Las Tortugas IV | 10.29-11.01 | Yosemite
Words by: Dennis Cook | Images by: Chad Smith
Las Tortugas – Dance of the Dead IV :: 10.29.09-11.01.09 :: Evergreen Lodge :: Groveland, CA
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More days than I care to admit, I find myself empathizing with the Devil, wondering if humanity is, at best, a flawed experiment run amuck. It’s an unattractive perspective but one that’s cropped up for me more and more in recent years as wars, tea-bagging, general pettiness, and greed whittle away at our shared humanity. But it takes only four days each Halloween weekend to bring me around to a considerably more copacetic, hopeful outlook. Turning off Highway 120 onto the ridiculously peaceful, verdant seven mile back road that leads to Evergreen Lodge and Las Tortugas – Dance of the Dead music festival, one feels some of the world’s weight lift almost instantly. The air is moist and green flourishes wherever your eye falls. Take the road slow and drink it in and the last leg of one’s journey works like an elixir absorbed through the skin. Where you are going is not the “real world” but a happy, highly musical oasis where palpable community, good will, and great times abound. Yes, this is a gathering of bands and fans, but if one fully launches themselves into experience there’s a chance at something hearteningly humanizing that goes well beyond a badass set or blinding solo, though Tortugas IV had both in abundance.
Thursday, 10.29
One of the striking differences about Tortugas versus most other festivals is how immediate the transformation from workaday existence to exuberant shindig takes place. Thursday here feels like a Saturday at most fests, as the first of many costumes emerges, twinkling lights are strung, pumpkins carved, and seals on whiskey bottles are broken as virtually everyone in attendance stretches out their arms to everyone they see. It may come off as some sort of bunk hippie claptrap but just being in this environment for a short while triggers off a wave of general niceness and hospitality that runs through attendees, performers, and the exceedingly gracious staff that worked their butts off all weekend so the rest of us could revel without a care. Nothing is too far away from anything else, and as you wander past cabins and tents towards the music frothing in the distance you’ll likely be stopped by someone you don’t know and offered a drink, some candy, or all sorts of amusements simply because they felt like being kind and they liked your smile.
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And don’t just trust me on this. Listen up to Tortugas IV guest of honor Bill Kreutzmann, he of the Grateful Dead, BK3, The Rhythm Devils and more, who performed a couple quite epic sets with pal Papa Mali but also sat in with headliners Ivan Neville’s Dumpstaphunk and Umphrey’s McGee, amongst others. The man was a drumming fool, in the best sense, enlivening everything he touched with both his huge, deeply underrated percussion chops and general fabulous energy. So, Bill, did you have a good time Tortugas?
“Are you kidding? I had a GREAT time. It feels like a party,” says Kreutzmann by phone a few days after the event. “Festivals are really fun because I get to meet the fans. I really love talking to the people face-to-face and let them know I’m a real person and get to know what’s on their minds and what they’re thinking about musically.”
Izabella :: 8:00-9:15 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
You couldn’t pick a finer main stage opener than Izabella, a continually evolving Northern California unit that oozes positivity anchored to serious chops and strong songwriting. Archetypically “jam band” in nature, they encompass soul, rock, pop, and jazz as if all lived happily in one big bed. Yet, unlike many of their overly eclectic brethren, Izabella keeps refining their sound, which hums with ancestral echoes but ultimately carves their own path. “You all look pretty scary right now,” remarked lead singer-guitarist-percussionist Brian Rogers, “and that’s saying something coming from me.” The lost Village Person, shirtless with a cowboy hat and feather boa, spoke the truth, as the first night’s “Voodoo Circus” theme came to life with clown pants, duppy makeup, and other New Orleans/Ringling Brothers inspired touches. Izabella’s set flowed so seamlessly that one wondered how they’d brought us from a slow prog ascent into country territory and out into full-on funk. There was a real “diamond in the back, sunroof top” feel to some sections, and their cover choices were sublime – a hallmark of Las Tortugas acts overall. Wilco’s “Handshake Drug” rattled nicely and made Big Light groan because Izabella got to one of their picks first. Michael Jackson – a specter in many setlists – emerged with a solid rendition of “Billie Jean,” and the set concluded with a way above-par stab at Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” complete with Wayne and Garth look-alikes rocking onstage with the band. In between originals like “Beauty In The Journey,” a modern descendent of primo ’70s Robin Trower, began our collective elevation in earnest.
Poor Man’s Whiskey :: 9:15-10:15 p.m. :: Tuolumne Hall
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If there’s a band that loves getting onstage more than Poor Man’s Whiskey I’ve never met them. Yet, that seemingly sloppy enthusiasm hides some serious players who actually approach their craft with an earnestness that’s endearing. PMW picked up the “groove energy” put out by Izabella and rolled it in something gritty, pumping out their Whiskey-fied version of “Whipping Post” alongside their crowd-pleasing originals. For these guys rock and twang are Siamese twins, and their psychedelisized freak show slapped us around good.
Nathan Moore :: 9:15-10:15 p.m. :: The Tavern
Moore was a blessed fixture at Tortugas all weekend, sitting atop tree stumps rolling smokes and dispensing gentle wisdom like the riverbank, backwoods Buddha many of us know him to be. He arrived with his voice a bit tattered, which gave his first performance in Evergreen’s cozy bar a ragged, intense sweetness. He was bound and determined to give the people some songs and stories, and when Moore told us, “The world is really magic/ Nothing could be clearer,” the words sunk deep, a truth penetrating past whatever rigmarole we still had clinging to us from our lives beyond the tall trees, clear moon-filled skies, and moist Yosemite air. Like every time I’ve seen him before, Moore reminded me of the acute power one man with a guitar and the right material can have.
BAG of Trix :: 10:15-11:45 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
Three-fourths of ALO – Dave Brogan, Steve Adams and Zach Gill – cemented the festival vibe with a set that overflowed with sunshine and melody. These dudes are just SO enjoyable to take in, and it extends beyond the well-played tunes to their basic personalities, which positively glow through the notes. Dressed in fuzzy, indistinctly animal outfits – except for Gill’s obvious bunny hat – BAG were playful as pups armed with nasty piano stings, undulating bass, and lock-tight drumming. Drawing from their large ALO and solo catalogs, they swung like an alien piano/organ trio on a mission to sonically smooch everyone in the tent. I appreciate their fearlessness with covers because of the utter sincerity with which they render some genuinely unhip material. So, as Gill crooned Wang Chung’s “Dance Hall Days,” one truly felt compelled to “take your baby by the heel and do the next thing that you feel.” Rarely are serious musicians this playful, and it’s always a treat to see what they have up their sleeves.
New Monsoon :: 11:15-1:00 a.m. :: Tuolumne Hall
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When one hasn’t heard New Monsoon play in a while – and they’re off the road a lot more of late – it’s a lovely shock to hear their beautiful, wholly unique melange. Regardless of the time between gigs, something special happens when they assemble, and that feeling was particularly strong this night. Able to be merciless or smooth, equally convincing at both, they merge carefully composed songs (with increasingly strong vocals) and genre-busting instrumentals without apology. In some ways NM asks a bit more than your average band of its listeners, but, as stunning renditions of originals like “The Other Side” or covers like Zeps‘ “Poor Tom” showed, surrendering to their current always takes you somewhere cool.
Dumpstaphunk :: 1:00-2:30 a.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
There’s a lot of kinds of funk out there, but if you love, if you crave the stuff that’s sticky ‘n’ stanky, well, there’s none better than Ivan Neville and his hard-nosed bunch. Decked out in robber masks, they launched into a ferocious performance that gathered up ALL the loose booty in a five-mile radius. On their best nights – and this was surely one of them – funk is a mission for this band, and their pursuit of it is exhilarating. If you were able to keep your limbs from flailing rhythmically during this set I’d suggest you pick up a defibrillator pronto. What further separates Dumpsta from the pack is how everything isn’t bullet fast (or obviously derived from touchstones like Funkadelic, James Brown or Sly Stone), and their molasses is able to ease into a blinding cover of the Stones’ “Sympathy For The Devil,” serrated by Ian Neville’s jagged guitar cuts and the focused, endlessly exciting drumming of Raymond Weber. Their vocals, as a group, have matured, so it’s not just Ivan rockin’ the mic, and they’ve developed into excellent showmen, particularly the winking, leaping Tony Hall, who switched between bass and guitar with ease all evening. Towards the end of the set, they took us to church, Ivan exhorting us to gather up all the crap and trouble and worry and stress we’d brought into the woods with us and “put it in the dumpsta.” It’s a regular bit but there was a holy roller intensity here that made hundreds shout, “Put it in the dumpsta!” over and over and over in a way that really did liberate us.
Continue reading for Friday’s coverage of Las Tortugas…
Friday, 10.30
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We woke to bucolic weather, hovering in the low 70s during the day and low 40s at night, which held throughout the fest. Gone, but not forgotten, were the torrential rains of Tortugas III, and the difference meant a lot of grateful, fully engaged folks who switched colorful outfits more often than a Cher concert. And it wasn’t just youngsters suiting up. Tortugas is a truly multi-generational gathering, where Steve Adams – always a sartorial treat at festivals – rolled alongside his painted up parents, who had as much fun as anyone here. There’s something, dare I say, a bit more civilized about Tortugas than most festivals. While not everyone had a cabin, the front porches and indoor plumbing were shared pretty freely and provided an extended, relaxed party atmosphere that wasn’t completely focused on the central area or what was happening onstage. One felt safe and able to freak as much or as little as their heart desired. Some of my favorite moments occurred while watching the parade of laughing, giddy people flow past my cabin.
Zach Gill :: 3:30-4:30 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
A solo set in name but Gill invited a few friends from New Monsoon and ALO to join him in one of the most disarming, honestly sweet sets this year. Looking like a comedia clown without the long-nosed facemask, Gill opened with a short, centering ohm chant, and then announced, “This song is about breaking through the ice.” The covers this round included Billy Joel’s “Vienna” (done straight and true for all the crazy children that needed to slow down for a bit) and Huey Lewis & The News‘ “The Heart of Rock & Roll,” which Gill explained afterwards, “Huey Lewis was the first concert I chose to go to, begged my parents to buy tickets to. Then I saw Kenny Rogers. He wore a silver jumpsuit and threw out Frisbees. And how I tried to catch those Frisbees.” That Gill sounded genuinely wistful describing what seems like a cornball moment strikes to the center of his music. His cover choices and originals that more than hold their own against established masters speak to his ambitions and loves, and whether behind a piano, squeezing an accordion, plucking a ukulele or just swaying to a melody, Gill exudes talent and goodness in a way one would be stupid and rough spirited to refuse.
New Monsoon :: 4:45-6:15 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
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In many respects, NM is the quintessential Tortugas band – stellar musicians and serious composers yet not a household name. This fest celebrates talent and drive, with a distinct slant towards working bands making music because something in them demands it AND won’t allow them to slack off in carving out their own identity, regardless of the easier, perhaps more quickly profitable paths open to them. NM exhibited a melodic flow that slipped between genres/styles in a way that bolsters the idea that there is simply music and all of it – past, present and future – longs to converse in a living conversation. Standouts this time included an expansive “On The Sun” and a gliding version of the Talking Heads’ “Slippery People” that seemed lubricated with K-Y it was so smooth.
Poor Man’s Whiskey :: 6:15-7:15 p.m. :: Tuolumne Hall
Dressed as Spinal Tap, the boys rollicked through “Big Bottom,” “Sex Farm Woman” and more, down to a tiny foam Stonehenge that was discarded for a bottle of whiskey. Control and abandon did a square dance onstage, making one feel like they’d wandered into a carnival ride of some sort. They wrapped the exuberant set by unplugging and playing Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show’s stardom loving “Cover of the Rolling Stone,” with the audience hooting the chorus with infectious glee. This band just knows how to put on a show that leaves one wanting very little in its wake.
Dun Four :: 6:15-7:15 p.m. :: The Tavern
Big Light and Nathan Moore teamed up for their folk-rock Voltran configuration, the Dun Four. With Moore’s voice on the mend, they still played in a way that made one lean in. One is keenly aware that they are part of what’s unfolding when this group plays, and with ringmaster Moore urging us through hoops and tickling us with feats of magic (the man made his own head disappear!) one wants to join in. The carefree character of Tortugas was well represented as they juggled their songs and played musical catch with wide grins and easy flowing laughter. This is a real peanut butter & jelly combination that’s only likely to get tastier with future outings.
The Mother Hips :: 7:15-8:30 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
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Blasting out like caged rock beasts, the Hips went right from zero-to-sixty with “Time-Sick Son of a Grizzly Bear” and “Third Floor Story.” Working in their comfort zone, they quickly assimilated into full festival mode and it seemed as if they’d already been playing in their minds and the audience had to just catch up. Anchored to the slinky, complex bass of Paul Hoaglin (dressed in Steve Adams’ Thursday furry suit and looking like the rockingest Ewok ever) and the relentless drumming of John Hofer (sporting black rim glasses with a penis nose), singer-guitarists Tim Bluhm and Greg Loiacono raged mightily, particularly on new ones “White Falcon Fuzz” and the rangy “Pacific Dust,” the title track from their new album released last week, which takes their early wild jam sensibilities and marries them to something more structured and ultimately more satisfying. Whatever they touched, it seemed their group throttle was wide open, which left many of us dazed and happily confused as they plowed into the giant size finish of “Can’t Sleep At All,” with the guitars racing all the way up to Heaven. My lord, what a tremendous rock ‘n’ roll band.
Dumpstaphunk :: 9:30-11:00 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
A touch smoother and more relaxed than the nicely battering energy of Thursday night, Dumpstaphunk again got us to toss our woes in the dumpster, and showed they really know how to work Stones material when they put “Miss You” on low simmer and cooked it to perfection. Undeniably highlight of this set was a spirited sit-in by Bill Kreutzmann. It was hard to tell who was smiling the most – drummer Raymond Weber, Ivan Neville or Kreutzmann – but their musical chemistry put some serious fizz into the whole evening.
“They’re pretty cool, huh? Me and Raymond got along great and played good together,” says Kreutzmann. “Playing with Dumpstaphunk is quite challenging. You gotta be a pretty heavy hitter to hang out with those boys.”
Blue Turtle Seduction :: 11:00-12:30 a.m. :: Tuolumne Hall
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Wrongly viewed by many as just another jam band, Blue Turtle have far more in common with The Pogues, The Clash, and other rowdy, intense uniters of the people. This set overflowed with bonhomie, wickedly played instruments, nicely barking vocals, and a feeling of vibrant engagement with music (and perhaps life as a whole) that made the throng inside Tuolumne literally bounce and leap with uncontrolled pleasure.
Umphrey’s McGee :: 12:30-2:30 a.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
Not overly familiar with Umph’s oeuvre, I tend to take them in experientially, as if battered and tossed about by a powerful storm system. Their technical acumen is jaw-dropping, or put more colloquially by Blue Turtle’s Jay Seals as we stood stunned side stage, “These guys are a total Shredzillas.” True dat, and you could hear all the rehearsals and hours of solo practice that precede their performance, yet they managed to shake off the academic tang that can accompany such high end musicianship to create something that throbbed and breathed heavily in the moment. You can’t rightfully call what they do prog rock or jam music, yet those are in there. But so are the more violent, stimulating parts of modern classical music, jazz-fusion, deep reggae, goofy mainstream pop, and whatever else floats into their purview. With one solid block of time to work with in their Tortugas debut, Umphrey’s – bathed in the most exciting light show all weekend – ranged through familiar material (opener “Pay The Snucka” flipped our collective switch FAST and last tune “Partyin’ Peeps” sent us into the night festive as fuck) and an excellent cover of The Police’s “When The World Is Running Down…,” but it was the tidal rise and fall of the intercut “Utopian Fir” that most revealed what a powerhouse act they are today. As Tortugas continues to raise its bar on headliner talent, Umphrey’s McGee were a great fit that left the majority hungry for their Halloween night sets.
Umphrey’s McGee setlist
Pay the Snucka, Andy’s Last Beer > The Bottom Half, White Man’s Moccasins, The Triple Wide* > Syncopated Strangers, When the World Is Running Down You Make the Best of What’s Still Around, Utopian Fir > Glory^ > Utopian Fir > Masoka Tanga > Utopian Fir, Plunger
Encore: Women Wine and Song, Partyin’ Peeps
Notes:
* with Rhiannon teases
^ with Ivan Neville on keys
Continue reading for Saturday at Las Tortugas…
Saturday, 10.31
Big Light :: 3:00-4:15 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
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What finer, more succinct compliment can one give a band than to say that they’re a bit better every single time you see them? Big Light is surely that, and within a few short years they’ve developed into one of the most consistently enjoyable modern rock acts going. Their jam roots are pretty much behind them, especially with lead guitarist Jeremy “Swordfish” Korpas endlessly needling them forward into tougher, gnarlier terrain. A well-sauced bohemian youth asked me, “What is this? I like it but couldn’t say what it is.” I told her, “It’s rock that pops, pop that rocks, and rarely does it settle for doing things as they have in the past.” There’s a restless jitter to Big Light that recalls the basement jams of the Velvet Underground, except they play songs with considerably more heart and compassion than Reed, Cale, etc. Umph’s Joel Cummins manned the keys for most of the set, and his piano rolls and sumptuous fills beefed up the Light’s sound and revealed a simpatico comrade in Cummins, who is, in my opinion, the secret weapon in Umphrey’s McGee, where he slips between the many notes of the guitarists to provide gorgeous texture and a unifying glue that’s essential to their overall mojo.
Counter Clarkwise :: 4:15-5:15 p.m. :: The Tavern
So loose and fearlessly silly, this side project of Tea Leaf Green’s Josh Clark reminded me a huge amount of The Modern Lovers if they played their instruments better. Ditties for a smiling tomorrow offered with crooked grins. I’ll take it!
Hot Buttered Rum :: 5:15-6:30 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
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Dressed as wild rag dolls, HBR presented a particularly fluid mixture of musics past and present, hot jazz snuggling with exploratory, highly modern acoustic music, hay wagon hick shaking hands with bubblegum pop. And underneath it all rode Matt Butler (Everyone Orchestra), the invisible drummer so marbled into the musculature of this music that you don’t often notice there’s a drummer at all. All of them are finding more and more ways to serve the songs and cut back on spotlight soloing, which just makes their open-armed sprint towards WHATEVER music turns them on work better and better.
Nicki Bluhm & The Gramblers :: 5:15-6:15 p.m. :: The Tavern
Dressed as a prima bonita senorita, Nicki belted ‘em out with the power and naked appeal of obvious touchstones Bonnie Raitt and Linda Ronstadt, looking especially happy next to her Sergio Leone cowboy husband, Tim Bluhm. There’s so much blues power soul to the Gramblers, and words simply sound better falling from Nicki’s tongue. Good songs and good players, they kick up real dust on their lonesome roads and homeward bound journeys. Love seems always on the edges of what they do, and in this way it always feels warm and familiar even if you’re hearing the tunes for the first time. Throw in the slow hand glide of guitarist Deren Ney and the whole shebang rocks.
Pimps of Joytime :: 6:30-7:30 p.m. :: Tuolumne Hall
New Fangled Wasteland :: 6:30-7:30 p.m. :: The Tavern
As the sun fully set, we had our choice of two varieties of funky soulfulness, either the polished, unbelievably tight, endlessly rolling grooves of the Pimps or the Beck-inspired swing of New Fangled Wasteland, which includes TLG’s Trevor Garrod, ALO’s Dave Brogan and Steve Adams, and holy-jeez-this-guy-is-amazing guitarist Chris Haugen. You couldn’t lose no matter which path you chose, and not a few of us kept sprinting back and forth between the two, finding that the proverbial “good foot” lay on our left and our right. Both bands offered up something fresh in a field that’s frequently tired as can be.
The Mother Hips :: 8:45-10:00 p.m. :: Tuolumne Hall
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Easily one of the hardest, heaviest Hips sets ever, and this coming from someone whose total exposure is swiftly moving towards triple digit attendance. In a smaller room and Halloween infusing a pervasive mischievousness in most folks, the Hips absorbed that vibe and issued forth a dirty sweet exhibition that had guitars rattling, drums nailing us in the gut and the bass taking the feet out from under us. I said it aloud a few times during this set, but it bears repeating here: The Mother Hips are a perfect classic four-man rock outfit. The material is as good as it gets and they play with a rich skill that doesn’t refuse the immediate inspiration of the moment. I and others screamed ourselves hoarse throwing in on gems like “Rich Little Girl,” and if you weren’t already in love with them it was almost a sure bet you were by the end of this barnstormer.
Umphrey’s McGee :: 10:00-11:15 p.m. & 12:15-1:45 a.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
Umph’s split two-set Halloween show was more focused and overtly clever than Friday night, with a plethora of smarty-pants mash ups, both in the music (see setlist below) and their costumes, continuing a tradition started last year on Halloween. However, it was the second set that really put the hammer down, the sort of performance that doesn’t wait for you to join in but instead just grabs you by the collar and screams, “You’re coming along NOW, motherfuckers!” So intense, so heavy that I can only say I felt vaguely violated in a fine way. And Kreutzmann jumped up to get a piece of it, and though a somewhat odd pairing it seemed all were having fun jostling about together. Umphrey’s are the sort of technical wizards that Guitar Player Magazine readers adore, but their willingness to hang their asses out, both for a laugh and the thrill of it, makes for music that totters on the edge of collapse almost constantly but rarely if ever really crumbles. Cool.
“The more work that people put into their music the easier they are to play with,” says Kreutzmann on playing with Umphrey’s. “Years ago I was playing in a jam session at this guy’s barn in Kauai and I kept listening for songs or melodies until finally I said, ‘Do any of you guys know ANY songs?’ and not one of them did. So, the opposite is quite preferred.”
Umphrey’s McGee Set I: JaJunk% > 2×2& > Q*Bert& > 2×2, Cemetery Walk, Padgett’s Profile, All In Time%%, Cemetery Walk II, Sweet Sunglasses*
Set II: Jazz Odyssey > Nothing Too Fancy > Hangover > Night Gambler** > Nothing Too Fancy, FF > Professor Wormbog^, JaJunk, Mulche’s Odyssey, Land of Wappy$
Encore: 40’s Theme, Nemo’s Fat Bottomed Good Times$$
Notes:
% with Smooth Criminal > Heartbreaker jam
& with Late In the Evening jams
%% with Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ jam
* mash up of: Sweet Dreams (Eurythmics) + Sunglasses at Night (Corey Hart) + Electric Feel (MGMT)
** mash up of: The Gambler (Kenny Rogers) + Night Fever (The Bee Gees) + Rapper’s Delight (The Sugarhill Gang) + Bring the Noise (Public Enemy; with Andy on vocals)
^ with Bill Kreutzmann on drums
$ mash up of: Wappy Sprayberry + Land of Confusion (Genesis) + Seek & Destroy (Metallica)
$$ mash up of: Nemo + Fat Bottomed Girls (Queen) + Good Times Bad Times (Led Zeppelin)
Sean Leahy :: 11:15-12:15 a.m. :: The Tavern
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What a goddamn tone master is Sean Leahy! His guitar work throbs with the massive fullness of blues greats like Freddie and Albert King, where things build and build and are then sliced ‘n’ diced with sharp slashes and wicked, finger-cramping runs. Playing in a neat trio setting with a crisp, intuitive drummer and bassist Mark Calderon, one of the hardest working men at Tortugas, performing with even more bands than Steve Adams (which is saying something), Leahy was a fount of good rockin’ after midnight (even before the clock chimed 12) and secured a spot on my list of “Under-sung Musicians” that I will continue to champion. The dude was every bit the player of anyone who picked at six-strings all weekend, satisfying in a really visceral way. And his songs are damn catchy and he sings well, too. So there!
Papa Mali featuring Bill Kreutzmann :: 3:30-7:30 a.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
With a delayed start, a decent amount of the crowd had dissipated by the time Papa and company took the stage. Bone weary and tired of my costume, I made it through the first wave of thick, off-footedly funky swamp music, and it was only sheer fatigue that made me leave. With eyes rimmed by cool makeup, Kreutzmann swings in a different way with Papa’s music, and even the Dead covers sprinkled throughout their set have an organic newness to them despite their familiarity. They began playing as if the music had been hanging in the air waiting for them to deliver it. No warm up, no ascent, we were just suddenly sky high and flying fast. By all reports these blues-rock-jazz-Dixieland explorers stayed near this altitude until the sun was firmly in the sky, digging into songs only Papa Mail knew by Van Morrison and others, with the ensemble thrusting ahead with a shared confidence that they could pull off whatever they tried.
“This all came about because Aimee [Kreutzmann's significant other] introduced me to Malcolm’s [Papa Mali] music. I’m from New Orleans, and she knows I love the music. My mother was born there. And then lo and behold – it’s now two or three years ago – we were playing the Oregon Country Fair and he was one of the headliners on the main stage. I heard him and went, ‘Uh huh,’ and went up and introduced myself and we didn’t part until the end of the Fair. We were connected at the hip. We actually closed that weekend playing from 1-4 in the morning, though we outdid that at Las Tortugas ’cause I hear we didn’t finish till 7:30 in the morning,” chuckles Kreutzmann, who with Papa Mali showed more raw stamina than even most of the hardened festival vets this year. “Music does that to you. It kinda gives this energy to keep on playing, keep on going, especially when it’s not a job and you’ve been in the band for 40 years and you’ve done it over and over and you’re still playing the same old songs. Then you don’t get the energy from it.”
Continue reading for Sunday at Las Tortugas…
Sunday, 11.01
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The slow exodus began this morning, and while there was considerably less flailing and exotic dancing on Sunday, there was one of this year’s overall strongest days of music, with a distinctly Dead-y undercurrent unifying things. Where the final day at many small festivals feels like a cobbled together afterthought, Tortugas consistently delivers MANY great reasons to stick around for the full load.
Trevor Garrod :: 12:00-1:00 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
In what’s become a Tortugas tradition, the Tea Leaf singer-keyboardist kicked off the main stage’s final furlong with heartbreaking originals and an unerring instinct for deep covers that suit him to a tee. A tender, exposed artist in this setting, his willingness to parade emotionally naked before us generated more than a few tears amongst the lounging, largely shagged out troopers sticking around for Day Four. If Tom Waits sang ‘em sweet instead of sour it might come out sounding a bit like Trevor solo.
Tracorum :: 1:00-2:00 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
A somewhat archetypal jam band, Tracorum wandered styles looking for what truffles they could find. While rangy as hell, they artfully explored whatever avenues turned them on, and acquitted themselves well in the blues, reggae and traditional rock areas. Gospel touches kept cropping up, and they delivered a particularly melancholy reading of Dylan’s “You Ain’t Going Nowhere.” Against all belief, Kreutzmann hopped onstage and knocked it out of the park during his sit-in. If he slept after his arrival on Friday afternoon then few of us knew when.
Guitarmageddon :: 3:00-4:00 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
Full-on groin thunder ‘n’ lightning is what the Josh Clark/Sean Leahy led Guitarmageddon delivered with one of the best surprises all weekend, a set of nearly all AC/DC covers (capped by a blistering assault on Iron Maiden’s “Aces High”). Opener “Sin City” seethed like The Stooges of “Down In The Street,” and like most of their takes on AC/DC’s tunes, they put subtle spin on fairly straight renditions, making things just different enough to tickle your ear but sacrificing none of the lusty, nasty pleasure of the originals. “Dirty Deeds,” “Jailbreak,” slow blues deep cut “Ride On” and “Whole Lotta Rosie” (both with make-ya-scream shredding from Big Light’s Korpas), and a ballsy “Highway To Hell” amped up our flagging Sunday energies and made a number of us act the fool at the lip of the stage as we punched key lines and threw the horns with real abandon. Little touches like Clark’s Survivor (the band not the TV show) t-shirt and Leahy’s Thrasher Magazine shirt planted their tongues firmly in their cheeks, but the music was all muscle backed by one of the most powerful rhythm sections all weekend. At one point between songs, Leahy further added to their classic rock cred, saying, “I walked into a wall and gave myself a black eye last night. Good times.” I was glad to offer up the bottle of Jack Daniels in my cabin for their onstage lubrication.
Dave Brogan Band :: 4:00-5:00 p.m. :: The Tavern
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Hands down, one of the most baldly, immediately enjoyable sets at Tortugas IV. With TLG’s Scott Rager laying down a clean, sharp drum line, Garrin Benfield ripping up lead guitar (including some mouth watering slide runs that compared favorably to Derek Trucks… really), and Brogan (ALO) out from behind the kit with an acoustic guitar, the whole combination just worked. Brogan’s got a classic pop voice and killer falsetto, and he used it on his very winning originals and a splendid, appropriately sleepy cover of the Stones‘ “Waiting On A Friend” that hit the spot on our final afternoon. This was the dance party that filled our limbs and heads with enough new fuel to push on through to Tea Leaf’s late night finish.
Front Street featuring Stu Allen :: 5:00-6:30 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
Comprised almost entirely of well-chosen Grateful Dead tunes, the JGB guitarist-vocalist shined away from Melvin Seals, running his handpicked band through their paces and radiating a sort of liquid sunshine to a crowd that drank in every ray they beamed out. This was the “comfort set” of the weekend, and it continued Tortugas tradition of honoring Jerry, Bobby, et al. and their cornerstone position in this scene. “Truckin’” was pure pleasure and came across with the same bravado it had when first recorded. “New Speedway Boogie” followed, bolstered by yet another sit-in from Kreutzmann, who flowed with easy confidence, each stick strike exactly where it should be, the man flowing with the music and in turn bringing everyone else’s game up. Superb takes on “St. Stephen” and angry Bob classic “Throwing Stones” took this one over the top and made the old slightly new again.
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“I like doing a few Dead tunes, especially in BK3 because we do them so outrageously different, but I don’t like doing a whole night of them,” says Kreutzmann. “My favorite stuff that’s coming up is with Malcolm and it’s called Seven Walkers, and it’s all brand new [Robert] Hunter songs. We have all the basics recorded except for one. We’re just putting on the final touches. It’ll be called Seven Walkers and that’s also the name of the band. We’ll still play as Papa Mali but we’ll have this other band that plays Hunter songs. These songs are terrific. I read ‘em and they brought tears to my eyes they’re so terrific.”
“I guess I hogged the stage a little bit [laughs]. I love playing with other musicians. I play all kinds of music; it just depends on the musicians I’m playing with” continues Kreutzmann. Over here [in Hawaii, where he lives] I play with a lot of jazz musicians. I loved playing with all the bands [at Tortugas], even not knowing their material unless they were cover bands, and that was even fun playing in the Grateful Dead cover band [i.e. Front Street].”
Tistrya And Friends :: 6:30-7:30 p.m. :: The Tavern
Beginning with an a cappella version of traditional “I’ll Fly Away,” Tistrya proved a folksy songbird of great, simple potency, inviting pals from many bands to sing and sway with her, delving into heart warming original material and inviting covers. This was music to gather around and absorb with a smile. Real nice stuff.
Hot Buttered Rum :: 7:30-9:00 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
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“Bye, bye grey skies/ Everybody’s ready for the blue.” HBR sang what many of us were thinking and delivered another top notch commingling of elements that on paper don’t gel but in their hands move together with the solidity and swiftness of mercury. They exploded their thing to include a nifty mid-set Everyone Orchestra interlude with Matt Butler as the hopping conductor out front. And few in attendance will forget the gaggle of Dolly Parton costumed gals who joined them during a cover of “9 to 5.” A very Talking Heads style take on “Take Me To The River” furthered the sense one was at a slightly naughty revival meeting.
Papa Mali featuring Bill Kreutzmann :: 10:00-11:30 p.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
When Reed Mathis finally arrived from the Bay Area, Papa’s quartet that’s been recording in Austin blindsided us with one of the strongest, most gripping 90-minutes this year. Backed by perhaps the most conversational drummer of all time – yes, Kreutzmann keeps marvelous time but his sure cymbal strikes and dancing tom strokes are in constant chatter with his bandmates – they developed a kind of voodoo swing, going deep into freaked out caverns and outwards onto riverboats full of jazz bounce. Garcia faves “Deal” and “Goin’ Down The Road Feelin’ Bad” were offered up with serious gusto, and the music danced with us and the musicians making it. New Hunter composition “New Orleans Crawl,” about the heel dragging post-Katrina though decidedly more joyous than that sounds, was marvelous and makes one hungry to hear the whole lot of new Hunter tunes performed by this group. Overflowing with bounteous soul and blues dirtiness, Papa Mali and his band knocked it out the park late in the game.
Montana Slim :: 11:30-12:30 a.m. :: Tuolumne Hall
Like a modern day descendent of Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks or a contemporary aware cousin to the Cheap Suit Serenaders, Montana Slim are a primo string band that roams around way beyond the hills of bluegrass and folk low lands. There’s flashes of humor, which is always appealing, but they play with seriousness and a real engaging sort of back-and-forth between players. They were a lovely way to simmer down after Papa Mali rolled over us, and set up the remaining festivarians nicely for the finale.
Tea Leaf Green :: 12:30-2:30 a.m. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage
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Beginning with Bowie’s “Moonage Daydream” (likely in honor of the nearly full moon beaming down on us) and finishing the main set with Ziggy’s “Starman,” TLG proved the ideal closer for this festival. They are tight as hell right now, dovetailing beautifully together, and working up fine new material that speaks to a promising future for this lineup. Older faves like “Ride Together” had swaying hips in this set, and they attacked every cut like a headliner, pushing and slicing in ways that kept even the wobbliest of us on our feet.
Tea Leaf is always buoyant, bubbly even, but this night they were like a fizzy lifting drink, and I let myself float away from the crowd so I could wander the moon-lit grounds one last time before the alarm clock, duty filled world of home beckoned once again come sunrise. And in this stroll I felt something break loose inside me, in a good way.
For all the darkness and negativity of this world – the myriad things that have me empathizing with the Devil – I realized that human beings are also capable of something outrageously lovely like this festival. It’s not practical or reasonable for such a thing to last more than a few days, but it’s encouraging in a fundamental way that the collective efforts of many people could create this temporary paradise. Music is the unifying element, but it’s so much more – days of extreme fullness and peace filled with stories and laughter and kisses and gentler things. Leaving Tortugas behind is always a bittersweet sting but that it happens at all, that four days can be made into this delightful thing, is reason enough to not give the Devil his due and strive to bring some of this magic home with us to share with others.
Continue reading for more images of Las Tortugas – Dance of the Dead IV…
 Bill Kreutzmann
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 Tea Leaf Green
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 Dumpstaphunk
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 Bill Kreutzmann with Umphrey’s McGee
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 Kris Myers – Umphrey’s McGee
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 Brendan Bayliss – Umphrey’s McGee
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 Joel Cummins – Umphrey’s McGee
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 Ryan Stasik – Umphrey’s McGee
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 Brendan Bayliss – Umphrey’s McGee
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 Jake Cinninger – Umphrey’s McGee
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 Vince Iwinski (manager) & Joel Cummins – Umphrey’s McGee
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 Kris Myers & Brendan Bayliss – Umphrey’s McGee
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 Bradly Bifulco – Big Light
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 Steve Adams – Big Light
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 Steve Adams & Nathan Moore – The Dun Four
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 Paul Hoaglin & Tim Bluhm – The Mother Hips
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 Dennis Cook – Your Fearless Scribe
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 Blue Turtle Seduction
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 Matt Butler – Hot Buttered Rum
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 Matt Butler
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 Jeff Miller – New Monsoon
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 Trevor Garrod – Tea Leaf Green
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 Reed Mathis
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 Poor Man’s Whiskey
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 Bill Kreutzmann & Raymond Weber – Dumpstaphunk
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 Dumpstaphunk
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 Ian Neville – Dumpstaphunk
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 Zach Gill
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