SMILEFEST 2001: TAKING IT FURTHUR
By Dennis Humphries (October, 2001)

"Strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hand;
Everybody's playing in the Heart of Gold Band, the Heart of Gold Band"
-The Grateful Dead

It sure has come a long way from a hundred hippies in a field with a makeshift stage. But then again, it's really just a matter of scale. What began in 1995 as a small gathering of friends to remember Jerry Garcia and keep the local Deadhead scene alive has taken on a life of its own and is fast becoming one of the major music events of the region.

Smilefest 2001 happened June 7-10 at the former home of the Old Time Fiddler's Convention, Van Hoy Family Campground in Union Grove, NC. After several moves and six years of working out the kinks, it looks like it may have come home at last. The festival's previous semi-permanent address, Hodgin Valley Farm in Pleasant Garden, had to be abandoned after 1999 due in large part to the growing size of the event (that was the year we hit a thousand). Also, since it was a working farm, all the festival facilities had to be set up from scratch and taken down every time. And there was that one neighbor who kept calling the cops complaining of the noise... Still, it was a beautiful place, and I didn't know how we'd ever replace it. Last year's Smilefest was held at the South Mountain Acoustic Revival Theater near Morganton, and while picturesque, the site proved to have too many drawbacks: among other things, it was rugged and dusty and hard to get to, and there was a serious lack of shade, a major problem in 90+ degree weather. But this year - what a find! Not only are we back among the trees and rolling fields, but as the venue has a long history of sponsoring musical events, there are premanent structures and plenaty of room to spread out, with a network of dirt roads making it realatively easy to navigate from one area to another. The music arena is a large covered amphitheatre with a sand floor that is heavenly for barefoot boogiening.-*

I didn't make it for the whole weekend this year; I missed Thursday night altogether, arriving Friday morning. And as I had to leave for several hours Friday afternoon, I missed three good bands then as well. Maybe someone else (how about you?) could write about the parts I didn't see, as well as offering another perspective on the festival, which like anything else is going to be different for everyone.

The North Carolina acts I missed Thursday were three I've wanted to see for some time: Mad Dog Trio (a.k.a. MD3), a jazz/funk instrumental band; T.H.H.E. Mood Cultivation Project, a group of guys in their early 20s from Mount Airy who are starting to raise some ears around; and Bessie Mae's Dream, a band from Charlotte who play a sweet mixture of originals and Dead covers, and who scored a coup by bringing former Grateful Dead keyboardist Tom Constanten with them. I did catch some members of Mood Cultivation Project in an informal acoustic jam late Friday night, and one of their friends gave me a live CD of a recent gig at Ziggy's. I was impressed by the feel, the interplay, the songs and the vocals, which all combine to create a haunting, ethereal sound. The festival program compared them to the Allman Brothers or Widespread Panic, and yeah, I can see that too, especially vocally; but I'm also reminded of vintage acts such as Spirit. There is something special here; this is definitely a band to watch.

Anyway, after having my stuff hauled in by gator from the parking area on Friday morning (a nice arrangement designed to avoid traffic congestion) and setting up camp, I had time to catch the first act of the day before having to leave. Foundation Stone offered up a real blend of styles centered on, but not limited to, reggae. I've never been a rap fan, and the hip-hop elements of the band kind of left me a bit cold, particularly because the words were difficult to understand given the bouncy acoustics brought on by the high metal roof. (This was my one complaint about the place. The sound varied depending on where you were, but until you got out from under the roof, the acoustics made it hard to understand any vocals, or appreciate the full impact of the jams. I'm not sure what the organizers can do about it, but hopefully they can think of something for the next time.) Of course, rap is an integral part of reggae as well, so when the raps took on a reggae lilt I found it a lot more engaging. The vocals, by a woman who played sax as well (quite nicely, I might add), were very well done and added a lot to the overall effect.

I missed Braco, Snake Oil Medicine Show, and Blue Ridge, but here's what I can tell you about them: Braco "fuses rock and jazz influences with the pulsating rhythms of authentic Latin music" (I stole that from the program); Snake Oil, who also performed at the festival last year, plays seriously warped shitkickin' music and are a lot of fun to see; and Blue Ridge appears to be in the traditional bluegrass vein, but with a "distinctive edge", as the program states. The group includes two former members of IIIrd Tyme Out.

I did make it back in time to see Bela Fleck and the Flecktones. It may have been partially due to the setting, but these guys were nothing short of amazing! The master of barrier-toppling banjo brought his indescribable band of funky bass, jazzy saxophone and synthaxe drumitar (an invention, I believe, of band member Futureman, this is an electronic drum kit that resembles an electric guitar without strings) to the already worked-up crowd, and proceeded to throw down a collection of tunes that included just about every form of American music known. Towards the end of the set, we were treated to some solo acoustic Fleck that showcased both his virtuosity and his sense of humor. This was a truly awe-inspiring set by the first of the four festival headliners.

Closing out Friday's lineup was Acoustic Syndicate, a perennial Smilefest highlight. We've seen AS evolve from a mostly acoustic, folksy sound to a highly creative jamband, still influenced by their native bluegrass as well as many other musical genres, unveiling along the way a collection of terrific original songs and inspired covers. I have reaved about this band in the past, and have defended their move to a more electric sound as a successful evolutionary experiment. Their September 2000 Cat's Cradle show with Yonder Mountain String Band remains one of my all-time peak musical experiences. By contrast, tonight's show was a straightforward, fairly predictable set of familiar tunes played with lots of polish. Too much polish, perhaps. The band was certainly not lacking in energy, I was up and dancing my middle-aged ass off pretty much the whole time. Yet what seemed to be missing this time was the reach, the sense of adventure, as well as the deep feeling many of their songs demand. Instead, they sort of came off like pop stars. The exploratory jams were missing altogether, replaced by shorter, still effective, yet relatively formulaic solos. The addition of a saxophone for the evening could have been the springboard for stratospheric jamming, but it was mainly used for color with an occasional brief solo break. I wonder whether some guy in a suit has told them this approach is the way to a bigger audience. And I suppose it could be, at least in the short run. But if they continue in this direction I fear they risk losing the qualities that made them special in the first place. Don't get me wrong; I DID still enjoy the set. However, I'm beginning to fear the possibility of "Rainbow Roller Coaster" being used to sell tickets at Carowinds. A little change never hurt anyone, but I do havea problem with style over substance. Tonight, I am afraid style won. C'mon guys, don't sell out on us...if I wanted to see a slick commercial act, I could got to a N'Sync concert. I've come to expect more than that from Acoustic Syndicate. I'm sure I'm not alone here; just remember the band that inspired this festival in the first place.

Following the show Friday night, all one had to do was wander around to find any number of jams and campsite parties of all kinds. There were the inevitable drum circles, and lots of bluegrass picking sessions. As is normal for this sort of gathering, the reveling continued pretty much until dawn before the last stragglers (the ones who bothered to crash at all) finally gave up the ghost.

Saturday morning brought the bleary-eyed campers straggling from their tents to either conjure up their own breakfasts at the campsites, or find nourishment from one of several food vendors up on the hill above the arena. It occurred to me the night before, seeing all the lights of the food court and the other vendors, that we had created our own little town here (This may be a familiar notion to those of you more accustomed to larger festivals like Hookahville, but I haven't yet been able to make those). The food vendors offered a wide variety to choose from at all hours of the day and night, from the famous garlic grilled cheese at Bearly Edible, to a filet mignon sandwich from another vendor, to burritos and other delights to please both vegetarians and carnivores alike. At breakfast there were way too many choices for me; after much deliberation I ended up with a gargantuan breakfast burrito and a tasty mug of coffee (looks like even hippies drink espresso these days, but I opted for regular brewed). After a bit more wandering around and hanging out with friends, it was time for the next day's music to begin.

The Saturday lineup began with the Jon Shain Trio. Shain hails from Chapel Hill, and has played the festival before with his old band Flyin' Mice. He is a gifted songwriter as well as interpreter of old songs, with influences ranging from bluegrass (imagine that!) to old blues and folk songs to more modern singer-songwriters. The current band, consisting of his guitar along with a bass and dobro, gave a nice understated backup to Shain's vocals. Shain was followed by Man Alive!, a group with an old-timey traditional sound that counts Joe Thrift, formerly of Donna the Buffalo, among its members. Sweet stuff indeed, perfect for a Saturday afternoon in the hills.

David Via and Corn Tornado was supposed to play next, but there was an unannounced addition to the roster. And because I couldn't hear the announcement, and the fact that nobody I asked could tell me, I still don't know the fellow's name. However, I do know he was an old banjo picker who played the Fiddler's Convention many years ago, and I believe he counted his grandson on guitar among the members of his band. At any rate, they played a very nice set of sparkling clean traditional bluegrass. The set was not particularly long, and we did then get David Via. If you've been to any recent Smilefest, you've probably seen Via, he's another regular. His band also plays more or less traditional bluegrass, but his songs stand out, lending a certain hard-to-define freshness to the familiar twang.

Via was followed by something completely different: Ancient Harmony. This is a band very much influenced by the style of the Grateful Dead, though they play exclusively (or at least predominantly) original material. Songs are largely vehicles for improvisation, which they do extremely well, one song flowing into another to create a continuous groove tapestry, keeping the crowd happily shaking their bones. This was the hardest I danced all day long.

After Ancient Harmony's dose of psychedelia came another return to tradition, this time in the form of The Larry Keel Experience. Yet another Smilefest veteran, Keel's bluegrass band added genre icons Vassar Clements on fiddle and Curtis Burch (aka "Dr. Dobro") to the mix. Burch was probably Saturday's busiest musician, appearing onstage at one point or another with most of the day's acts. The band gave a tight and dynamic performance; I was just about boogied out by the end of the set.

Up next was a special surprise (well, it was in the program, so it wasn't REALLY a surprise): the Smilefest kids, about 30 or 40 of them by the looks of things, took the stage, some in self-made bug costumes, to sing "There Ain't No Bugs On Me" with the accompaniment of the adults who taught them the song, and with a special appearance near the end by a certain Mr. Grisman himself. It was hard to tell how excited the children were by all this, but I had fun watching. Oh, to be a kid again...

The David Grisman Quintet followed soon after, and in many ways this was to me the highlight of the festival. One version or another of the Quintet has been around for 25 years, and the sound has changed with the members, but the vision and personality of Dawg himself has always been the driving force. Grisman has done for the mandolin what Bela Fleck has done for the banjo; namely, release it from the stereotype of a backwoods hillbilly instrument limited to a single genre. What we were treated to here was a set of silky smooth acoustic jazz, quite varied in mood and flavor but always elegantly and precisely played. Grisman was clearly enjoying himself, telling stories and talking to the audience about individual songs. He also revisited his bluegrass roots, playing a couple of songs he composed around the time in 1964 when his band won the Fiddler's Convention contest.

Finally, closing out the evening and the festival were Leftover Salmon. I was aware of their personnel changes, but had not seen them since the addition of a keyboard player. This has altered their sound considerably, and at first I was somewhat hesitant about the fuller ensemble. But a few songs into the set convinced me that these were the same carefree fun-loving guys I had seen before; the keys deepened their sound while taking nothing away from their trademark "polyethnic Cajun slamgrass" approach. If the dancing on the floor was a bit less frantic than it might have been, well, it WAS the third night of the festival; many of the crowd had slept very little and partied hard for more than two days. I know I was slowing down, and I'd only arrived Friday. Still, Salmon kept the place rocking until 2 AM (or so I'm told; it's my policy to take off my watch at Smilefest, and allow the flow of the scene to follow its own rhythm), and provided a fitting sendoff for us all. As the arena began to clear following the final encore, strains of the theme from the Andy Griffith Show wafted over the P.A., as a sort of "That's all, folks!' coda to the whole thing. How fitting.

I wanted to note that the weekend was unofficially dedicated to the memory of John Hartford, who pretty much single-handedly invented the Newgrass movement by combining old traditions with modern sensibilities, and by writing songs that broke barriers at the same time they honored the past. Hartford had died a few days earlier, and many of the musicians played tributes to him during their sets.

After the show, it became clear that the crowd was winding down a bit; the jams were fewer than the previous night, the parties more subdued. Still, there were plenty of people trying to squeeze out just a little more festival. Sunday morning was the time most of us had to think about returning to the real world (though some of the staff I was hanging with were going to stick it out another day, I suppose to clean up the debris). The only thing I hate about Smilefest is that it has to end. I want to live like that ALL the time.

All in all, I would call it the most successful Smilefest to date. If there were any hitches, they occurred out of my sight. Amazing indeed when you consider that at 4,500 people in attendance, the festival was 3 to 4 times larger than ever before. Smilefest has always been about the scene as much as the music; and I was a bit concerned that as it grew bigger the vibe would suffer. But then I remembered that for 35 years, the whole movement has been about the fact that we're all family, whether it's a hundred hippies in a field or 35,000 in a stadium.

I began this article with a quote from the Grateful Dead, and I'll end it with one. To Smilefest mastermind Bob Robertson and all the staff who worked so very hard at a labor of love, and to all the musicians, and to all of you who attended and shared your weekend with the rest of us: "Thank you for a real good time."