Last Weekend's Fests: A Wrap Up by Dan with More Pictures by Dan (Part 2)

Saturday, 3/27/10: Fetzer Fest III, Allentown, PA

We made it home from NJ in four pieces, retired to our varying homes and awoke rested and ready for fest #2. When we arrived at The Sterling Hotel, it seemed clear that a) most people had way more information about anything going on than we did and b) we were going to have to learn some Avenged Sevenfold covers or something right quick. There is this genre of American hard rock that sprang out of the NuMetal scene between say, 1999 and 2002, that seems to permeate the lesser populated sections of most states. I do not know what to call it, it does not seem to have a name. I don't know how to explain it, just imagine if you based your entire band's style off of MTV's Headbangers' Ball and its immediate proteges, and then STOPPED taking in any new information. I think I may have just explained it. Trust me; like pornography, you know it when you see it.

I think I eventually found a roster on some swag-cluttered table that listed us as playing at 6:30pm on "The Chill Stage". Apparently, the stage is named this because it is on a sheltered, outdoor patio and is in fact much colder than the other stages, which are fully surrounded by walls.

At this point in our arrival (45 minutes or so), I am quite unhappy with a lot of things about the day so far. I am unhappy with the organizers for giving us almost no info about things like back line, running order, set times, etc. I am unhappy with James for booking us on this thing without bothering to find out what kind of fest it was. I am unhappy with the Hot-Topic-wannabe-metal-kids who keep trying to cadge cigarettes off of me. So I do what I do best: I go outside so as not to draw the rest of the band into my little spiral of unhappiness, and bring everyone down, man.

Happening upon a group of young musicians, I blend into the wall. They see me, but do not ask me for cigarettes, so I relax a little. I get drawn into their chat, and before I know it we're all talking about King Crimson records and guitar gear and general guys-in-bands stuff. These guys are in a band from Long Island called SingleSpade, and while I share very little in common with them musically, they were awesome guys and pretty much single-handedly turned my day around. So thanks, guys, wherever you are now.

Back inside at the bar, I get some JW and watch Brooklyn's The Whispering Tree, whom we've played with before. They have the unenviable task of being the first band to play for the day, and are doing it at the end of the crowded barroom while a much, MUCH louder band sound-checks in the next room. Here we have a female pianist and vocalist and a French male guitarist attempting to play their subtly gorgeous tunes and they are just getting swallowed. But they are such pros, they roll with it.

It becomes clearer to me that maybe I'm just being a huge alpha-control-freak about everything that day, and I should just re-fuckin'-lax. So I do. With my pal Johnnie Walker.

Playing in the slot right before us were The Dreamscapes Project from Fairfax, VA (coincidentally right around the area where we recorded "The Sobriquets Are Out of Style"). These guys were absolutely great, their wise-cracking, 3D glasses-wearing frontman Keith was the perfect amount of loud, boorish and energetic that keeps it fun. And any band that shows up to hard-rock fest with cellist and covers The Smiths at a hard-rock fest gets points in my book. They get us loosened up in order to play. It also helps that I think we're all a bit buzzed from drinking all afternoon as well. I run into some guys in a band called Kagero, whom we played with about three years ago. They are a gypsy-folk-punk band, and they are killer live performers. I'm starting to feel a little more amongst our element than I had earlier in the day.

By the time we start setting up, it's clear that we're all ready to play. The Dreamscapes Project has assuaged our fears that we do not belong here, or at the very least, we don't belong here right along with them. In an attempt to "bring the rock", I decide to turn my 30 watt combo amp all the way up in order to fill the room (they have not been miking amps). For about a minute, I'm getting sweet, tube driven tone. Then, with that familiar sound, I hear the tube fuzz out and die. I now have a dead amp and we have to play in about 60 seconds.

Luckily, one of the sound crew is watching the whole fiasco and runs out of the room to return with a 150 watt head that he puts onstage behind me on top of 4x10 speaker cabinet. You don't have to be a gear-geek to follow the difference: take my amp and multiply it physically and sonically by four. That's what I get to play through now. I am slightly ecstatic.

The set came off pretty well, great energy, the kind of locked-in playing we've been able to pull of consistently over the last several months or so. Kagero is on next, too! They get the whole crowd going, dancing in a circle up by the front of the stage. And now that the set is finally over, I find I don't mind hanging out here that much after all. See how the story arc moved me from one place to another, making me a better person and even learning something, too? Isn't it great we're all better people because of this?

But seriously, we had a great time. Our fest-weekend was a success, we met a lot of new bands and got to see some old friends. And all the food was significantly cheaper than in Cape May, which was a huge plus.

-Dan