Let's Chill

If last year's party stuck out because of the people I recognized from the year before, then this year will stick out for the caliber of music I heard. I'm talking about ChillFest VI, the annual pickin' party tucked away in the hills of Appalachia that I've been going to in August for the last three years. That's right, different name but same great taste. The annual shindig has evolved, somewhat organically, into a happening that is more than the sum of its parts, not unlike our entire weekend spent in and around Boone a couple of weeks ago.

For the last two years I have driven with a friend specifically to attend what was then called SwillFest, but this year ChillFest was but one of our "must-do" activities in a weekend full of what I consider the High Country's best. When a friend mentioned his interest in visiting Boone and asked when a good time might be to go, I could think of none other than the weekend of ChillFest VI. What used to be a kid-free overnight getaway for a girlfriend and me turned into a two-night, balanced blend of hanging out with my kids and extended family and adult-only (David, me and another couple) time in a gorgeous cabin while the kids slept at Aunt Kate's.

I purposely reserved a cabin that was only a few miles down the road from ChillFest, and every time we passed Ben and Cherie's driveway, I felt like I was sharing a special secret with myself as I was the only one in the car who knew what lay ahead on Saturday in their backyard.

We arrived at ChillFest after 8:00 PM, but before dark, and I had just enough time to greet the hosts, set up our chairs, and scan the surroundings for a sense of who was there and what the mood was like. Like last year, there were kids, dogs and tents sprinkled liberally up the grassy bank, through the wooded path, and in front of the expanded deck-turned-stage. None of the listeners perched their chairs or blankets right up front, though, intimating less of a concert performance atmosphere and more of a laid-back talk-amongst-yourselves environment.

Even so, I was more engaged with and tuned into the music this year than I seem to have been the last two. Upright & Breathin' sounded hotter, tighter, more versatile, more confident and definitely more polished than last year. The foursome's synergy was palpable, (especially during the give-it-all-ya-got fast-paced finger picking), and I just felt like these guys have come into their own. Apparently the local bluegrass community thinks so too or you wouldn't see their names on music festival bills with the likes of Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas. I have to admit that my bluegrass ear is not sophisticated enough yet to discern whether the instrumentals played were originals or covers, but when lyrics were sung, I found myself filling in more gaps and making more connections than I'd done in the past. Like for instance, when they played one of my favorite traditional tunes-- Shady Grove--I wondered if the lyrics in their version "going back to Harlan" referred to Harlan, KY, the region I studied last fall as I researched the life and work of Katherine Pettit, a social worker who practiced settlement work in the mountains of eastern KY in the early 1900's.

If imitation is the best form of flattery, I was impressed by the ways Upright & Breathin' and Co. chose to flatter some of my favorite musicians. Their up-tempo version of Gillian Welch's "Tear My Stillhouse Down," unique delivery of the Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil," and unsuspected rendition of The White Stripes' "Now, Mary" all succeeded in venerating these originals while at the same time putting something new into the world through their individual and collective musicianships. I was further pleased when I heard Ben's nephew singing an Amos Lee tune and sounding pert near as good as Mr. Lee himself!

This year I noticed more people in the crowd vying to get on stage at any cost. When Ben came to speak to me during a set break, I overheard him talking with a tatooed, mohawked, listening fan. This guy wanted a chance to get on stage and show the crowd what he could do. With the extraordinary interpersonal skills of, say, an insurance agent, I heard Ben explain with kind firmness (or firm kindness) that the evening's musical performance line-up was already off schedule and there was no way he'd be able to fit another act on stage. The tatted guy persisted. He said he played the harmonica and would be so happy as to just get on stage and play back up with U & B. Ben added--with great panache--that his band is what it is and communicated that what it isn't is a band whose sound would easily accommodate a back up harmonica!

That's right, Ben. Once again, ChillFest was what it's always been: a great party full of southern hospitality, Appalachian mountain glory, kickin bluegrass music, and laid-back chilling for the young and old. I was proud to share this experience with my friends from the Triangle area and definitely think that it's earned a rightful spot on the top-ten list of fun things to do in Boone on a weekend in mid-August. Oh, and one more thing: My mom used to always say you didn't have to be drunk to have a good time at a party. You know what? She was right!