Following up on Mark’s view of Lou…the scene from the side of the stage during Reed’s set was pretty interesting. Carlos Santana jumped up to take a gander while Reed was slashing away at “Sweet Jane,” the members of the young Athens outfit The Whigs were eagerly checking the action, as was Cat Power drummer Jim White. More fascinating was the fact that Reed was using a fairly sophisticated teleprompter system to sneak a peek at the lyrics – 36 years of playing it and he can’t remember the words to “Satellite of Love”?  Although it was a pretty solid set with some real peak moments, the one missed opportunity came at the end, when the teleprompter showed “Pale Blue Eyes” as the closing number, but Reed called an audible and capped the set with “Magic and Loss” instead.  

As the announcer says, we are at the center of the blues universe. Which for all anyone knows is the center of the real actual universe. Here’s Watermelon Slim’s opening number at the Tennessee Lottery Blues Tent and you can bet it’s a slice of heaven, yes it is.

Backstage at the Blues Tent, the venerable bluesman Pinetop Perkins sits quietly and somewhat luminously as Watermelon Slim goes through his sound checks. Mr. Perkins dispenses conversation and autographs as those who know who he is stand a bit away, shyly, somewhat in awe. This is the way it went.

 

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Lou Reed has things mighty mellow as the clock strikes 10 p.m. at the Cellular South stage. With three guitars, a round, sweet electric standup bass, and various loops and synths, Reed’s band paints a sophisticated New York backdrop for the singer-songwriter’s deadpan poetry. After opening with the kissoff tune “Mad,” Reed counted off the distinctive chord riff of “Sweet Jane.” A rousing “I Wanna Know (The Pit and the Pendulum)” gave way to the tender “Guardian Angel,” which featured Reed showing off his seven-string guitar.

A lot of folks are taking a load off, sitting on the curbs or on tarps to give their dogs a rest. It’s getting chillier out too, but I bet Santana’s upcoming set will keep everyone warmed up. Speaking of warmed up, I can hear Santana’s trumpet player warming up right outside our trailer in the backstage area. At 58 degrees, that’s a cold piece of brass to be blowing into …

We were standing around, shivering on a cold afternoon. “Is there anything to DO?” I groaned. Now, a music freak would have jumped all down my craw: “What the h— do you THINK you’re supposed to do at a music festival?” 

And I would have answered, “You mean, besides drink?”

Let’s face it. There are times when whatever’s on the music menu isn’t to your taste. And judging by the scantness of the early crowds, I wasn’t the only person wandering aimlessly without a mud-free place to sit my booty.

If I could ask one accommodation of Memphis in May it would be to allow folding chairs. But then, you know what would happen. People would show up at dawn, create a No Man’s Land of folding chairs in front of the stages and then yell “sit down!” at those who dared rise to dance, and if there’s anything worse than not being able to sit down it’s not being able to stand up. Annoying folding chair sitters: hate them. 

So with a dearth of bands I’d stand for, my pal Barry and I perused the part of the festival that nobody really blogs about: the sponsor exhibits. There, swag is traded for e-mail addresses. 

Our first stop was a trailer with a combined marketing campaign of Sharp televisions and major league baseball. It provided one alternative to music: video games.

An employee offered to take a special photo of Barry and I. Then she gave us a card to visit a website and retrieve our free picture. To get the free picture I needed to provide my e-mail address, and as I’d prefer less rather than more spam, the pic is destined to be swallowed by the matrix unless some great person would like to retrieve it for me by going to www.sharp.fotozap.com and enter the following code: 354-3013158. Barry thanks you.

The BP trailer has a more utilitarian function. Bathrooms. Nice(r) ones than those provided by the Fest. The idea is that BP’s bathrooms are better than Port-a-Johns. When ya gotta go, go in style. 

And when the bathrooms run out of toilet paper, you can request one of the t-shirts they were giving away. Let me describe it: a man in a pink car, flowers spewing from its tailpipe, drives circles around your torso. You figure out the target demographic. I never wear green and I never wear pink, so if there’s some emo kid out there who wants this…

Our music critic Bob Mehr says it’s really “British.”

The audio blogging continues! Michael Donahue’s still down at Tom Lee finding the interesting audio and delivering it to you. Well, I suppose I’m delivering it to you, but you get the idea. We’ll have another Where’s Donahue photo in a short time, but sate your Donahue curiousity below:

Saturday Podcast 1

Podcast Numero 2

Another one!

One more

I would like to officially apologize to the Memphis Police Department for speeding here to catch Oracle and the Mountain. I’m sorry, but I only break the law when it’s really, really convenient for me.

I had to catch the only band here who is from Memphis, who is not a rap group, who is somewhat representative of what currently, really goes on around here. (In my tiny head/world anyway.)

I mean seriously, where is all the Memphis music?

(I’m not talking about the Jerry Lee Lewis kind.)

We didn’t have 40 minutes for the Noise Choir? or Vending Machine? or even Lucero or Snowglobe or The Glass or whatever? Adios Gringos maybe? Joint Chiefs? Mouserocket? The Warble? The Subteens? Arma Secreta? I’m nothing that even approaches a music critic, but come on!?

In my head its early Saturday afternoon at the Tom Lee Park BSMF, most people are waiting around on the headliners, and this is the best time to wander and discover something. Preferably from Memphis. We have such an amazing, diverse music scene and it’s lame for it to just lie here dormant at our big “showcase.” I guess Muck Sticky and Saving Able is what the kids want to see.

But I’m not so sure. Maybe I just don’t get it.

Anyway Oracle and the Mountain was great.
We should have more acts like that.

Now that I’ve gotten my single, solitary gripe out of the way; I’m going to have some fun.

Maybe wander over towards the Buddy Guy, Lou Reed area. You guys should come hang out. I hear the draw today is 60,000, but it doesn’t really seem that crowded to me…

(I have pictures, but this computer is bobo… you’ll have to wait. I know you can hardly stand it.)

A corn dog is calling my name.

Cheers.

Time to play everyone’s favorite game: Where’s Donahue? Check below for the image (we’ve managed to make things slightly harder). Test your visual skills!

The rap master whooped that trick for the crowd Saturday afternoon at the Budweiser Stage. And afterward he dutifully thanked the Good Lord for keeping the light on him. Amen to that.

I tell you, that sun feels wonderful  after a chilly afternoon. It’s just low enough to cast long shadows over the stages, so you can still see without shades, but there are plenty of sunny spots to warm up — and a few green patches of grass to lounge on.

I was just doing a bit of back-and-forth between the Cellular South and Sam’s Town stages, where Cat Power and The Whigs are playing, respectively. Both acts have played in Memphis at the Hi-Tone over the past year, so this was an opportunity to catch both of them on a much bigger stage. Also, both have deep Memphis connections. Hank Sullivant of The Whigs is a former member of Accidental Mersh, who regularly filled the New Daisy Theater back in their high school days. His former bandmate, Andrew VanWyngarden is, of course, one half of it-band MGMT. Cat Power showed off some of the Memphis-grown talent that backed her on her 2006 breakout album “The Greatest.” Hi Records guitarist Teenie Hodges and keys man Rick Steff sat in this afternoon on selections from that record.

Another hot festival cover version: The Whigs blazing through The Who’s “The Kids are Alright.” Power trio covering power trio was the way to go.