Contrary to popular Australian belief, Splendour in the Grass is not the only music festival in the world taking place on the last weekend of July. Steeped in history and with a backdrop as impressive as any, the Newport Folk Festival has seen generations of folk music heroes play to dedicated music aficionados for over 40 years.
The two-day festival kicks off on the main stage with Canadian quartet the Wailin' Jennys. The three-pronged female harmonies make for a beautiful soundtrack to a day of 35 degrees. Newport Harbour is resplendent in yachts, canoes, speed boats and other waterborne folk taking advantage of the festival's prestigious location (in an old military fort with views of the seaside town), and the crowd is treated to versions of classic Julie Miller, Emmylou Harris and Dolly Parton tunes.
An early highlight comes in the form of New York's Gogol Bordello. With blood lines stretching as far as Siberia and Ukraine (moustachioed frontman Eugene Hutz every part the immigrant son), in fitting with the folk vibe the set is an acoustic one, but that hardly prevents their fans from spontaneous bursts of circle pits and screaming joy. Throwing in sing-along tracks Wunderlust King, Alcohol and finishing with the crowd-pleaser Purple, Gogol are amazing, and smiles abound throughout the crowd.
Country Music Hall of Famer Earl Scruggs has less gusto than the guy from Weekend at Bernie's, but his banjo-picking fingers seem to remember what they have to do, as his band, fronted by his son Gary, belt through some classic bluegrass, including Scruggs' own Ballad of Jed Clampett.
Songstress Gillian Welch, accompanied as always by guitarist Dave Rawlings, gets the crowd all misty-eyed as she croons to the late afternoon sky. Playing songs like Time (the Revelator) and Miss Ohio, it's a picture-perfect way to watch the sun play upon the clouds.
Headliners The Decemberists make sure that they finish the day off in style. Dropping tracks from their latest album The King Is Dead as well as old favourites, their set is played with gusto. Opening with the apt July, July! and singer Colin Meloy the epitome of enthusiasm, this is one of the sets of the year – bar none. Finishing with the 15-minute epic tale of Mariner's Revenge, complete with stagecraft sessions and huge crowd interaction, it is a highlight only topped by the re-emergence of Welch & Rawlings to complete the encore with the beautiful Springville.
Day 2 isn't as hot, but the heat handed out by surprise packet Trampled By Turtles is palpable. Every music festival has 'that band' that leaves its discoverers in awe of a killer set, and for Newport 2011, Turtles are it. Combining the harmonies and instrumentation of Mumford & Sons with a ramshackle, bluegrass delivery, they have the crowd bawling tears one minute and hoe-downing and guffawing the next. So much so that they come back for a unprecedented mid-afternoon encore of the Pixies' Where Is My Mind – classic.
Justin Townes Earle is also at the top of his game, telling stories and singing songs like Christchurch Woman (dedicated to NZ's troubled town), My Mama's Eyes, and finishing with Harlem River Blues. Supported by slide guitar and double bass, on the side stage it's a poignant hour-long set.
One of the few (if not only) non-North American artists on the bill is Elvis Costello, and boy does the guy kick out a set. Belting his gravelly voice to the crowd on the grass and on the harbour, Costello succeeds in getting nearly everyone on their feet, dancing to (The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes, A Slow Drag With Josephine and a killer version of Johnny Cash's Cry, Cry, Cry. Finishing his encore with Peace Love And Understanding, the man in a very polished grey suit and hat leaves no one disappointed.
Finishing the night on the smaller stage is M Ward, whose tender, acoustic songs aren't the best way to finish the day (even if he does include a version of Bowie's Let's Dance), although with backing band, Dawes, he kicks up some dust and gets some last minute booty-shaking happening with a cover of Chuck Berry's Roll Over Beethoven.
And the sun goes down over Newport Harbour. The folks in their cars spend the next two hours getting back into town, while those on their boats just lie back and soak it in. It's a brilliant festival with a hippy vibe, and it's hard not to think; You can keep your Splendour, Newport, Rhode Island, has its own.
- Dylan Stewart
