Way Over Yonder 2014: A Friday of fine folks (and folk) capped by Local Natives and Lucinda Williams
Daiana Feuer on
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By Daiana Feuer
In its second year, Way Over Yonder is Newport Folk Festival’s California baby. On Friday, the Santa Monica Pier got lightly folked up with hay bales, Indian blankets and a bean bag toss, but for the most part the environment stayed clean and tidy. Nary a hippie in sight, save for the beach-bound ones sharing hot dogs with seagulls by the arcade. The smell of intoxicating meats had the audience drooling. Lobster rolls, chicken quesadillas, clam chowder and $25 rock crab wafted on the breeze, making us hungry and thirsty, and hungry again. The weather was perfect, sunny during the day and windy at night.
- ||| Photos by Carl Pocket, courtesy of Spaceland Presents
Newport Folk Festival has a long history stretching back to 1959, and is responsible for launching the careers of some folkies you might know … like this one guy, Bob Dylan?
So it was exciting to see what music their producers are digging. Although they brought a few out-of-town bands, a good chunk of the performers were West Coast residents and there were not too many surprises. The festival delivered some sweet country- and blues-influenced bands, but it glazed over the psychedelic and pastoral side of the loose genre that is folk. Then again, with a relatively small lineup as far as festivals go, the mission was likely not to paint the Sistine Chapel of folk music, but to serve a nice slice of warm Americana pie with a side of Moses Sumney. Here are some Friday highlights, both from the Main Stage and the Carousel Stage:
Fog rolled off the stage as Lucinda Williams appeared with a wry, sly smile. She gave the impression that she’s played in a tornado or for a sinking pirate ship, comforting the dying as they slug their last whiskeys into melancholic oblivion. When she announced a song called “Drunken Angel,†it was easy to imagine the booze as a hot, sweet gasoline fueling the fire in her gut, deep where experience churns in sulfuric bliss. Accompanied by a seasoned three-piece band, Lucinda Williams delivered that authentic country sound. To be honest, some of Friday’s lineup was all over the place, but Williams reminded us what we were there to see: upliftingly downhearted music that might inspire someone to start smoking cigarettes and get a tattoo. Her reflective, poetic lyrics connect to anyone who has ever had their heart broken or wanted to stomp on someone’s soul.
Local Natives headlined Friday after Lucinda Williams. Is it weird to follow up a country legend with an indie-rock band? A little bit, but the audience adjusted just fine. The older section left with their tropical shirts tucked into fanny packs and a younger contingency emerged from the catacombs of the Pier, arms raised in supplication. Some stopped to French kiss. A lot of making out transpired during Local Natives. The more demure simply held each other, eyes closed. Whoever actually looked at the stage risked seizure from these four ultra bright giant strobes that flashed the entire time behind the band. The lights had a mind-melting hypnotic effect. The music itself was charming, though not quite folky at all, but infinitely triumphant. It felt like the end of a race or disaster and we have all survived and luckily have time to ride the Ferris wheel while watching waves crash against the darkness.
Sumney’s soulful music harked back to traditional folk as much as any artist at Way Over Yonder – it’s the way he fashions it that is distinctly modern. Using looping pedals for background vocals, percussion and guitar, he builds his songs slowly. Ethereal and serene in his unique way, Sumney’s voice was a lot like the gentle ebbing of sea on sand, enhanced by delay pedal. He asked if anyone was still awake and said he was barely hanging in there, perhaps lulled by his own tranquility.
Who isn’t a sucker for a female drummer? Especially one with a chandelier in her bass drum, and no shoes. That Celeste Spina really banged the boogie out of her drums all the while exchanging knowing smiles with her partner Anthony Catalano. Adding to the overall charm, this good-looking San Diego blues-rock duo adorned the stage with a vintage nightstand and antique lamps. Catalano spent most of his time on guitar, had two mics with different effects, and no less than 15 pedals attached to a second guitar resting atop his keyboard, which he played with a slide. The sound on that slide guitar seemed directly from the coolest part of hell. A pretty place that’s dark beneath the surface. These folks were not from hell, where some believe the wellspring of country music lives. Drummer “Cece†smiles too much to be evil.
The youngest band on the lineup, this Los Angeles folk quintet had three female lead singers harmonizing songs of heartbreak, dreams and loneliness, wailing from the depths of softly trampled souls. What was even better, the first two rows of the audience consisted entirely of little kids swaying back and forth like they knew all the world’s sorrows. Best interaction: Singer: “Y’all know what it feels like to go crazy? Then you think, maybe you’re not crazy?” Child responds: “I am,” and he really meant it. As a bonus, half of these beautiful children in the audience seemed to belong to Lisa Bonet, standing behind them.
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