The sun-kissed, music-drunk afterglow of last weekend’s Doe Bay Fest still hasn’t quite dissipated for me.
I’m not the only one. For six years now the outdoor music festival, nestled on Orcas Island’s breathtaking Doe Bay Resort, has served as equal parts summer camp for grown-ups and ground zero for some of the most consistently rewarding live music experiences in the Northwest. And its laid-back, music-and-friendliness vibe renders it unlike any other outdoor festival out there.
This was my third year volunteering for Doe Bay Fest, and my fourth year of attending overall, so like a lot of my sun-baked fellow festgoers I’ve got plenty of fond memories to go with each iteration of the Fest: Late nights contemplating spectacular views of the San Juans; strolling through the lush trails that thread through the resort; partying until sunset with tassels of old and new friends; and most importantly, music. Lots and lots of music.
Enclosed, please find my complete (or at least as complete as my sun-kissed, music-drunk mind permits) rundown on Doe Bay’s musical highlights. Pardon the length, but there was such a smorgasbord of sonic riches I’d be remiss if I didn’t touch on everything I heard.
I spent much of Thursday en route to the Festival, which meant I missed that evening’s Conor Byrne-sponsored Open Mic Night (always a spectacular experience). Fortunately, Friday provided plenty of great moments.
Doe Bay’s programmers have always possessed an uncanny ability to find solo acoustic acts who transcend the confines of the solo-voice-with-guitar formula.
Recent Seattle Weekly cover girl Naomi Wachira brought that transcendence to the forefront, opening Doe Bay ’13’s Otter Cove Stage Friday afternoon with an absorbing set of redemptive, socially-aware folk songs infused with a smokily-tinged, soulful singing voice. The Passenger String Quartet stepped in to back her for the tail end of her set, lending gently-sweeping romance to her quietly commanding presence.
Thanks to a last-minute rescheduling shuffle, Star Anna wound up playing her solo acoustic set on the smaller Otter Cove Stage in lieu of the larger Field Stage. It turned out to be a real blessing. Star Anna is gifted — cursed, maybe — with one of those voices that seems to capture every drop of melancholy and emotional ache that a human can experience, all within the spontaneous upturn of a single sung note. Virtually hiding behind a black hat and dark sunglasses, she provided a darkly mesmerizing contrast to the scenic natural beauty of the surroundings.
Every year, there’s always at least one act at the Fest that comes roaring out of nowhere to blow the tops of festgoers’ heads off. This year, that act was You Me and Apollo, a scrappy Colorado quintet that had listeners on their feet and shaking tail feathers with an unlikely but incredibly winning blend of dirty guitar rock, Stax/Volt soul, and roots music. Lead singer Brent Cowles’ voice ricocheted between a garage-rocker’s bobcat wail and a Temptations-style falsetto on a dime, Tyler Kellogg’s drums and Dave Cole’s bass formed a potent rhythm section, and Jonathan Alonzo and Morgan Travis provided texture without overwhelming Cowles’ memorable songs. If there’d have been a roof to tear off of the outdoor stage, they’d a ripped the sucker clean away.
Seattle rock power-duo The Grizzled Mighty christened the main Field Stage Friday afternoon with a crushing collection of monster rock blues songs that fit the epic environs like a war hammer in Thor’s right mitt. I’ve heard Ryan Granger and Whitney Petty work their rough magic several times, and this was by far the strongest I’ve heard ‘em.
Smokey Brights stepped up to fill Star Anna’s mainstage slot afterwards, and they handled their last-minute ascension to the Field Stage like champs, selling their merge of Americana earthiness and R & B jump with dust-kicking energy. Ryan Devlin and Kim West delivered the most chemistry-fueled harmonies I’ve heard onstage this side of Fleetwood Mac.
Back in the day, Ken Stringfellow was one-half of the singing and songwriting nucleus of Seattle’s finest pure-pop band, The Posies, but his mainstage gig largely drew from his excellent solo full-length, Danzig in the Moonlight. Stringfellow’s new material delivered continental diversity in service to indelible melody, and true to the sophisticated but never stuffy nature of the material, he cut the Fest’s most dapper figure in a damned smart suit. Capably backed by most of The Maldives and Curtains for You’s Matthew and Michael Gervais, Stringfellow sang in an inimitable tenor gloriously untouched by time, and the guy’s so off-the-cuff funny he could teach a 101 Course in Onstage Banter (“We’re putting the end of the world in the middle of the set, where it belongs”).
Friday’s final two acts turned Doe Bay’s mainstage into a major dance party. Fly Moon Royalty delivered a pulsing set of electro-soul gems, with diva Adra Boo swinging confidently between icy cool and sensual heat at the front, and DJ/producing foil Action Jackson beaming in rich, baby-making sonics as the backdrop. Between Boo’s powerhouse presence, Jackson’s wryly inanimate persona, and three great dancers onstage, there was irresistible theatricality to bolster the grooves, too.
Shabazz Palaces, meantime, were a flat-out revelation as they closed out Friday’s mainstage. Anyone who’s heard the duo’s phenomenal debut Black Up understands the twisty brilliance of their sound sculptures, but live, they’ve sometimes seemed like mad geniuses very much in their own world, hiding behind their equipment while they crafted their musical pocket universe.
They offered an exhilarating fuck-you to that perception Friday night, with Ishmael/Pallaceer and Tendai oozing audience-engaging swagger to go with the immersive beats and melodies and consciousness-raising rhymes. Cue devotional extension of arms and chants of “We’re not worthy….”
Doe Bay’s Yoga Studio traditionally doubles as a packed after-hours music venue during the festival, and Friday night saw great sets from stripped down Seattle trio Lonesome Shack (whose wonderfully rough-hewn blues looks to be going in a slightly more sinister direction), and Bobby Bare Jr’s Young Criminals’ Starvation League. Bare’s ragged howl of a voice, his cluster of uniformly great country/rock/folk songs, and the YCSL’s ace instrumental backing were (and remain) an utterly irresistible force live.
As is customary, the partying (and the music) often trail well into the wee hours at the Festival, with spontaneous jam sessions sprouting all over the resort’s ample grounds like so much sonic foliage. Before the party (and sleep) carried me into the darkness, I caught Ken Stringfellow and the Gervais brothers bashing out Posies and Curtains for You songs on the porch of the Doe Bay General Store. And for the record, hearing Stringfellow deliver a stark and heartfelt cover of Big Star’s “Thirteen” under the stars is as close to dying and going to Pop Heaven as any listener can get.
[Stay Tuned for Part 2, coming Monday]
