#treefort five

[blacklodgemusictx]

Salim Nourallah: Record Release Mini Tour - Dallas Finale

It's over.

I'm home.

Music from my YouTube channel rolls in the background while I try to get my thoughts in order.

I'm buried in thoughts. Pictures. Videos. I want to think on every word. I want to tweak each picture to perfection before sending it out in to the world. But I'm racing the clock. I have to get everything out while I'm awake. Tomorrow the fog descends again. I go back to being a zombie. I have to feel this weekend while I'm still capable.

Last night was "Old Home Week" (a phrase I've never really stopped to examine... homecoming I assume. That's how I've always approached it, but I suspect its origins are older than I am.) The venue was Sons of Hermann Hall in Salim's home of Dallas.

Everywhere familiar faces. I even recognized the woman who sat next to me at Rhett Miller earlier this month in Ft Worth. Rachel, she says. She has ties to Rhett and Salim. My own story is mirrored throughout the room (upstairs. We saw Salim & these same gents here in 2019. The Church as well in 2016). You don't see Salim by accident. At some point you are in his path and he pulls you in to orbit. It's gravity. Friendly faces, performers. Fan-Friends like us: Christian and his lady, Allen. Performer-Friends like Rahim Quazi. Chris Penn (our acquaintance predates mine with Salim. He and I know each other from the Flaming Lips' message board where I used to lurk and get my social fix back circa At War With the Mytics/UFOs at the Zoo) has stepped away from local haven of good taste, Good Records. He's there in his signature orange pants (red? orange? Whatever they are - they are as recognizable as he is).

Merch is in the back of the room. We take up our requested positions, but I warily eye the room as it starts to fill. My need to be upfront is ancient as the tides. I have worked my role as documentarian (taker of pictures, recorder of videos) in to that need. I must be up front. I must see. Band one - Ottoman Turks - take the stage early. Theirs is a country-tinged sound and therefore runs contrary to my essential musical make up. No ones fault. I had a similar reaction when finally seeing Rhett Miller with his Old 97s (solo Rhett is my only desired Rhett -- that's a thing I and my ears know now.) They are young and energetic. They wield their instruments with skill and the early arrivers at the show appear to love them. I perk up and even record a song, an excellent cover of Billy Idol's "White Wedding."

The need wins and pulls me up front. There's one seat left in the front middle. I end up sitting between a woman who actually remembers me from the Billy Harvey show where I brought pies and another woman I didn't even realize I follow on Instagram.

At one point, my view is ruined by John Dufilho once again urging everyone to get up and crowd around the stage. Tonight I am encased in a corset. My satin carapace tonight is bronze over my shades-of-purple dress. I have a closet full. I literally use them to lace my spine back in to place. My excruciating back pain improved briefly and I was able to abandon them, but they are back. I accessorize my outfit with them the same way I coordinate my wardrobe of glasses. It's ok. John doesn't know that.

I crowd watch. I see Rahim [Quazi]. He buzzes around hugging people like a friendship bee tending flowers. I hate the sea of backs and knees I'm watching, but I do take time to appreciate this. Not too long ago a scene like this was the stuff of sweet dreams. We all couldn't imagine when we would be able to gather and sway to music and hug each other again. It really is a thing of beauty.

The lady next to me asks me about the phone on stage for Buttercup. I tell her I'm pretty sure it's just...art. I have noted each night its presence as well as the special vintage luggage carrying case labeled "phone" it emerges from. Each night I have not noticed them use it. I am wrong. Erik uses it in the set similar to Salim and his ever present bullet mic. I ask Doug later if I am unusually oblivious (I wouldn't doubt it.) No, he assures me, this was the first time.

Joe [Reyes] appears next to me later. He lets me hug him. He tells me... something... I pull out my Ottoman Turks gifted ear plugs (master stroke. I pride myself on being constantly prepared and yet always forget something... RIP the phone charger I left at the Austin venue. Most of the time I forget ear plugs). Want conscientious music lovers to remember you? Ear plugs at your merch table! He yells, "THESE GUYS ARE GREAT" he says about the Deathray Davies. YES. I agree. "AND THEY'RE ALL REALLY NICE GUYS." I appreciate this. It seems to be a reoccurring theme. If you have been pre-vetted and Salim-approved, if you've made it in to this circle, you are worth knowing. As someone with a great deal of anxiety (social, free floating, you name it), I appreciate this implied safety immensely.

At some point, another face floats by. A smiling woman tells me how great I look. Am I just feeling like a goddess? Sure, absolutely. I smile in mild, pleasant confusion, but then she introduces herself as Princess. Of course. I've seen the name on Salim's facebook. We've probably been at shows together. I don't get names usually until we've been at multiple shows together. I think Salim thinks we all just know each other by default.

I remember our first show at Galactic Headquarters - Salim's listening room - a place I think of as home now. We bought tickets, but it was such a small group, I kept expecting people to turn to us and go, "who are you? you don't belong here" It was just too intimate. But it's become like a family. So Salim doesn't make introductions because once you are there, you've always been there.

I hope that Salim will issue a reverse Dufilho command, "It's ok... EVERYONE CAN SIT DOWN." But everyone stays up and picks a spot to camp at the stage for Salim's portion of the show (tonight as the Homecoming show Salim and the Treefort/Philistines, he is last). I aim stage right - Joe's side. I hope I can get a good view of Marty. If I got to his side, I'm afraid I'll be too close to him.

I was spoiled by last night's venue.

Sons of Hermann Hall is old. The stage is small. The sound is... old. The lights are... old. It has sort of a dance-at-a-school-gym feel. I actually made a point to write that down in 2019 when we came for the final Travoltas show. The feeling hadn't changed. I doubt it ever will. To change that would be to change its essential make up. Too many things bow down, are brought low in the path of progress. Still - every where I stand, every angle, something is obscured. I do my best.

At some point, I notice the woman next to me. She makes me question my very identity as a fan of Salim's music. This woman is transported. She's having a religious experience. She stomps, bobs weaves, squeal, thrashes. She puts my adoration to shame. I sort of want to cast my camera aside and join her, but I also remember my time with the Lips and how quickly stores of energy deplete when you throw your whole body in to the worship of music like that.

I see her later at merch. I tell her I admire how fervently she enjoyed the show. Music saved her life, she tells me. I can appreciate that. I know exactly what she means.

I love Marty tonight. Tonight he's there. He's starting to give himself for more distance away from his cheat sheets. He smiles, grins at times. He's proud of his solos. He's with them. He's dialed in. Present. I never doubted this, but I love that everyone can see it tonight.

Night one Salim had looked at Marty admiringly, "Doesn't Marty clean up nice?" He really did. All in black, beautiful sunshine orange guitar for contrast. Salim points out he's wearing long pants this time. He's right. I immediately cast backwards in my memory and only pull up images of him in shorts.

He's gorgeously and similarly attired tonight. What I don't realize until tonight is I will see him later after he's snuck off to reapply his shorts. Marty is from cooler climes abroad. I find Texas heat bewildering, every year is a surprise. And I've been here for most of my life. I cannot imagine what heat like this must seem like to him (another place I have found him two out of three of these nights is drinking in available air conditioning. The vent was in the ceiling at the Lonesome Rose and I after seeing him stop to appreciate it, I watch people all night stop in the same exact spot and pose for a minute as though for a Disneyland vacation photo).

I know the end is near. I try not to cheat, but just like skipping to the end of a book, I lean over to look at Joe's set list. "Friends for Life," "Let Go," and... 1978. And though I have sworn to stop contributing to the glut of available copies of 1978 on the Internet, it's also the finale. He calls Olivia, Erik (from Buttercup) and Paul Averitt up to join him. My friend is happy and triumphant... so I record it...

Again. (smiley face)

This ending is happy. I say goodbye to everyone. We'll see Marty and Olivia again soon we're sure. Doug talks music with John Dufilho and is all smiles. At some point, we even talk to Nick Earl - another person we've maneuvered near, but never actually spoke to until this weekend. Doug has something specific in mind. Months ago, Nick was in receipt of two console record players saved from when we auctioned off what would have been the contents BLM if it ever officially opened its doors.

Nick's face lights up. He has something to show us. One player now starts a red-sparkle paint job. He seems to be in the process of turning it in to a space ship.

"So you're a wizard in your spare time?" I ask.

He smiles. He does not deny this.

I will be glad to see him again in the future. He's a weird one. I love the weird ones - in life and in music - they're my favorite.

I hug Salim a few more times. He's grateful to us for our services this weekend. I'm sure he suspects, but I don't think he will ever truly know what it's all meant to me.

If only for three days... I could breathe again.

How do you thank someone for oxygen?

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

Seattle-based post-punk outfit Weep Wave released their full-length debut, 2019’s S.A.D.to critical praise from KEXP, Seattle Music Insider, Raised by Cassettes and Dan’s Tunes among others. In the five years since S.A.D.’s release, the band has been rather busy: They’ve gone through a lineup change, which has resulted in their current lineup: Dylan Fuentes (vocals, guitar), Mike Hubbard (drums, synth) and Mitch Midkiff (bass). They’ve released an EP and a handful of singles, one which was featured as KEXP’s Song of the Day that have gradually revealed an evolving and decided change in sonic direction. The band has shared stages with a handful of acclaimed and renowned acts including JOVM mainstays Los Bitchos, Blackwater Holylight, Gustaf, The Bobby Lees, Godcaster, Habibi, Reignwolf and Spirit Mother among others.  They’ve also made the rounds of the local and regional festival circuit, playing sets at Treefort Music Festival, Capitol Hill Block Party, South Sound Block Party and Off Beat Music Fest. They’ve done multiple tours up and down the West Coast — and they’ve even played few times here in NYC. Slated for an Friday release through Corporat Records, the Seattle-based outfit’s 11-song Dylan Wall-produced sophomore album Speck was recorded at Seattle’s 7 Hills Studios and reportedly sees the trio embarking on a kaleidoscopic sonic odyssey through the diverse array of genres they proudly call home. Thematically Fuentes’ lyrics oscillate between two contrasting realms: outward to explore the effects of the perils of capitalism and climate change — and inward, to scrutinize the self, in particular dissecting the ego and self-identity.  In the lead-up to to Friday, I wrote about two of the album’s previously released singles: The Low Praise-meets-grunge-like “Rebirth Mantra,” a song built around a pummeling, most pit friendly riff, thunderous drumming and a supple yet propulsive bass line within a classic, alternating loud-quiet-loud song structure that captures Fuentes at his most introspective and neurotic, with the song’s narrator expressing his fears of feeling into the same unhelpful — and perhaps even destructive — patterns that always lead to repeated failure and frustration. The song’s narrator envisions a transformed, evolved version of himself, a much more caring, courageous and empathetic self. Of course, are we able and willing to change and evolve? Or are we too stubborn, too blind to do what’s necessary to better ourselves?” “Phasing,” a decidedly grunge-like ripper built around the sort of feedback fueled, power chord-driven riffs reminiscent of 90s alt rock greats like Nirvana, Mudhoney, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, complete with enormous, arena rock-meets-mosh pit-like hooks and choruses.  “Conscious Dust,” Speck‘s latest single and opening track is a Jack Endino-like grunge take on post-punk that begins with a intricate punk-meets-cheek-in-tongue Motown-like drumbeat and a fuzzy bass line. Fuentes enters the fray with a punchy chant-like delivery before the song explodes into a hypnotic and noisy mosh pit friendly ripper. As a single, “Conscious Dust” sets up the album’s overall aesthetic and thematic concerns as a sort of bold, flag-planting moment for the band and the listener. For me, the song kind of reminds me of Pearl Jam’s “Do The Evolution,” as a sort of tongue-in-cheek takedown of humanity and human consciousness. “‘Conscious Dust’ is the first song I wrote for the album—and I intended it to be the first song on the album,” Weep Wave’s Dylan Fuentes says in press noses. It’s an ontological song that can function as playful mushroom-induced pontifications or absorbed as a reminder of the cycle of life. It speaks to a life cycle of having been here before but striving to do better than the last time.” “I like how the chill keyboards balance the heaviness,” Fuentes adds. “I tried to create songs that feel like a journey, something you can get lost in.?...

[zenruption]

Treefort Roaming 2024 - Wednesday and Thursday

It’s back, that time of year when the music permeates all of amazing downtown Boise for five days. Yes, it is my favorite time of year and so far it hasn’t disappointed.

This year is a bit of a different approach. Instead of just roaming, I am much more disciplined as my time is far more limited. Being a dog dad means tons of dog love but also a lot of responsibility, so the 12 hour days at Treefort are no more. It’s a worthy trade-off.

Still, there have been a few surprises that one can’t help but come across while enjoying one of the best festivals in the U.S.

Let’s start with Wednesday.

Wednesday

With my dog, Brahms, in mind, I didn’t head out quite late and only stayed a few hours, but those hours were filled with several great acts.

While heading to the Treefort Music Hall, I found myself diverted to something that just sounded fun. And it was. The Boise Brewing stage is a super cool stage that has had some excellent acts. Buddy Crime is undoubtedly such an act.

A single musician, Louisville, Kentucky based Buddy Crime is backed by prerecorded hard thumping electro-pop to which he adds his lyrical and guitar skills. He’s high energy, puts out some incredible sarcastic vocals, and keeps the audience moving. The crowd was absolutely engaged and I look forward to seeing him again someday.

While I truly desired to stay late and see excellent Boise musicians, Magic Sword, it’d be an early night with only one more act on tap, Neko Case, at the main stage.

Neko Case has been labeled as “alt-country” or indie-rock,” but she defies the labels, becoming almost otherworldly and emitting a chilling vibe in songs such as “Hold on, Hold on.” With haunting sound and lyrics, she grabs you, and you can’t walk away mid-song. Her long career in music has yielded a large amount of work, and she deserves your listen. Check her out on your music service.

Thursday

An annual tradition is watching the first Gonzaga NCAA Tournament game at the excellent Owyhee Tavern while eating a steak. Afterward, it was past eight, and it was time to get out there.

While I only caught the last three songs of Australia’s Blusher at the Treefort Music Hall, it was a blast, making me wish I’d been there for the whole thing. An electro-pop infused experience from three female amazing singers made it part girl band and part high energy indie. Let’s just call it what it is, a ton of fun.

Look for Blusher to be touring the U.S. this next year, as they told me they just got their visas and will be living in L.A.

Things mellowed quite a bit with French Cassettes, but they are a phenomenal band putting out their own harmony-driven pop, with a sound best (but very loosely) compared to Vampire Weekend. Check out their pre-release song, “Benzene.” It’s fabulous.

Then there is Karina Rykeman, who recently dropped her debut album, Joyride. There’s nothing like Karina. She is an incredible bassist, her guitarist is phenomenal, and her lyrics are silky smooth. In many ways, I felt like I did when at a Khruangbin concert but without all the reverb.

Karina is high-energy and keeps everyone dancing, and the crowd loves her. Listen to her track “Joyride” right now!

And that’s it. It was another early evening with absolutely amazing bands. This is why Treefort is incredible; you’re constantly discovering new music to fall in love with.

[scottbcrowley2]

Five Spokane acts to perform at Treefort Festival in Boise - Thu, 06 May 2021 PST

With the return of live music on the horizon, music festivals big and small have begun dropping top-notch lineups. It’s becoming apparent that this fall is going to offer an unprecedented schedule for music lovers. Five Spokane acts to perform at Treefort Festival in Boise - Thu, 06 May 2021 PST

[therunningeducator]

“The history of Treefort Music Fest” with Eric Gilbert

“The history of Treefort Music Fest” with Eric Gilbert

Summary Eric Gilbert, the co-founder of Treefort Music fest, explains his journey that leads to this fantastic music festival in Boise, Idaho. Treefort Music Fest is a five-day music and arts festival that brings hundreds of emerging and independent artists from across the world to downtown Boise, Idaho. The fest was conceived in 2012 as an extension of the current momentum in the Boise music…

[doomedandstoned]

A Grunge-Era Groundshaker Makes An Inauspicious Return

~Doomed Discoveries~

Here's something I unearthed over the weekend while I was doing some leg work for an upcoming podcast on the Seattle heavy music scene of the '80s and '90s: WILLARD. This dirty-as-they-come sludge rock machine should have probably been better known to most of us, planted as they were in the Emerald City at the boiling point of Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden, and Pearl Jam and releasing two well-regarded, lead-heavy records (an EP and LP, respectively).

Certainly, singer Johnny Clint, guitarists Otis P. Otis and Mark "Spiders" Shropshire, bassist Darren Peters (later succeeded by Tyson Garcia), and Drummer Steve Wied garnered a loyal following in the Northwest underground. Once they're fans responded with such a ruckus that the Seattle Police Department famously banned Willard from performing at Seattle Center...forever.

Add to that, their full-length debut was produced by none other than Jack Endino and released on Roadrunner Records, to great promise. Judging from the press clippings that accompanied 'Steel Mill' (1992), the label was trying to position Willard as the first flank of a new metal offense to counter the grunge occupation of the world (not that I was complaining any about it as a teenager).

So here's something else I learned: the band recorded a second album in '93, but it never saw the light of day. The full story about what happened has never been told. We do know that Willard's sophomore effort was to be called 'Bone Grinder,' but it was shelved by the record label for some reason or another. That or there was some disagreement within the band, because they called it splits after that.

Now some two decades later, eleven previously unreleased Willard songs have surfaced -- presumably from that very studio session I found out while searching for any trace of them on YouTube, which led me right to this previously unreleased song: "Moolg," which is a part of the previously unreleased material l issued now on a label called Black Guitar Records. (Truthfully, I was looking for some extant footage of that Pain In The Grass Festival riot that led to Willard's permaban.)

I was shocked, given the band's place in history and the power of this song, that it had less than 200 views since it was posted in January (I don't care who it's by, I would be excited about this album based on the strength of the material alone). Then again, the band doesn't have any social media or web presence that I could detect (well, not since Myspace) and the label scarcely has any aside from a YouTube channel. I saw some Ditch Witch stuff on there, so the label may be associated in some way with Seattle producer and Grunge legend in his own right, Tad Doyle, of TAD and more lately Brothers of the Sonic Cloth fame. Willard drummer Steve Wied also played in TAD, so he could also have something to do with the somewhat obscure label.

Here's something else that's interesting: rumors have it that the band has reunited and is recording new material, so we may yet have the big Willard splash that should have been. This rather cryptic entry was added to the band's Wikipedia page (without any quotation marks or reference, so I'm assuming it was either added by someone in the band, the band's manager, or their new record label):

Early 2018 -- 11 unreleased Willard songs recorded in Nov 1993 were transferred from 2" Tape to Digital By Stuart Hallerman at Avast! Mark Spiders and Aaron Skok are currently mixing the new songs as of August 2018. All original band members are on board!

Black Guitar Records is proud to announce the first new Willard Record in 25 years! Willard "Underground" is 11 bone crushing songs available at CD Baby, Amazon, and Spotify. First release is a limited edition pressing of 100 CDs.

After listening to the old fashioned five-second samples on CD Baby, I did find, to my delight, the new Willard spin 'Underground' (2019) streaming in its entirety on Spotify (I had to shovel past another Willard of some kind to find it). I need to get myself a physical copy, because I really liked their first two records (though they, too, seem to have suffered from distribution and circulation problems). Still soaking it all in, but digging what I hear so far.

This much I do know: if you enjoy the likes of Soundgarden, Melvins, Helmet or crushing music in general then, son, you need to get you some Willard in your life!

Give ear...

Addendum:

After hastily publishing my article, Seattle contributor Chris Schanz hit me up with this: "Remember when I went to Treefort last year? I mentioned Willard in the article. John R. Clint and Darren Peters we’re both in H-Hour. Steve played drums for us in FUZZBUD after Willard."   A fascinating "Where are they now?" tie-in, indeed. Check out his piece, Doomed & Stoned in Boise.

[radioboise-goes-to-treefort]

It’s certainly NOT the final Treefort Music Fest but these limited edition, custom jackets from Radio Boise underwriter MAVEN have been going like hotcakes. High five anyone you see wearing one for us! -dig #RadioBoiseAlive #Treefort2018

[bringinbackpod]

Interview with K.Flay

We had the pleasure of interviewing K.Flay over Zoom video!

Alt-rock’s artful enigma K.Flay (the stage name of Kristine Flaherty) hurls fistfulls of theoretical paint at the modern music landscape by announcing her forthcoming EP ‘Inside Voices’, dropping June 11th via BMG. The GRAMMY-nominated musical changeling throws caution to the wind on the forthcoming collection, instead choosing to scream a primal roar of self-confidence across five tracks of fresh, biting self-expression.

Kicking off this next phase in her already varied & exciting discography is the first single “Four Letter Words” - birthed from a very real moment in her life (cue the first line “I drank a liter of tequila in my bedroom, it’s taking every ounce of power not to text you”), the song kicks off with a chugging guitar before erupting into a cathartic sonic explosion that evolves the manic loneliness felt post-breakup into finding the strength to confidentially say “FUCK YOU” to the one that didn’t doesn’t deserve you.

In a fitting visual accompaniment, the artist rages out in her bedroom while two cartoon characters, IV (representing the 'id') and OV (representing the 'superego') wreak havoc on her psyche.

It’s a shape-shifter of a song that perfectly encapsulates the forthcoming EP’s sonic variety and expression. Throughout the collection, K.Flay offers up a smorgasbord of colorful alternative art-pop -- unexpected, exhilarating, and truly one-of-kind, be it via “Dating My Dad” that features Barker on drums and examines how we repeat the same tired behaviors of those who raised us, or via the snarling “TGIF” that asks the listener to rethink society’s tendency to “tune out” the bullshit going on in the world and boasts a heaven-sent solo from Tom Morello. The EP also features the clever and irreverent rap closer “My Name Isn’t Katherine” (a comical reference to her issue with constantly being misnamed), and “Good Girl”, a co-writing collaboration with Dan Reynolds and an infectious punk-tinged singalong about reaching your breaking point when it comes to politeness and finding the courage to not give a fuck anymore.

The Chicago-born K.Flay’s near-undefinable amalgamation of dark-electro soundscapes, art-pop sensibilities, spitfire rhymes, industrial rock backbone and versatile chameleon-like vocals has led the songwriter/artist/multi-instrumentalist to two GRAMMY nominations (Best Engineered Album, Non-Classical for ‘Every Where Is Some Where’, and Best Rock Song for "Blood in the Cut"), tours alongside Grouplove, Imagine Dragons & Thirty Seconds To Mars, and festival spots at ACL Fest, Bonnaroo, Coachella, Treefort, and Riot Fest. She most recently dropped the three-song cover collection ‘Don’t Judge A Song By Its Cover’ that included off-the-wall remakes of songs by Limp Bizkit, The Offspring & Green Day, and appeared on songs by Arkelles and Jax Anderson.

We want to hear from you! Please email Tera@BringinitBackwards.com.

www.BringinitBackwards.com

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[blacklodgemusictx]

Salim Nourallah: Record Release Mini Tour - Night One

Standing in front of the Lonesome Rose honky tonk in San Antonio, I am keenly reminded of what it was *not* when I last stood here. When last here it was January. It was not 95 degrees.

I’m starting to sweat. I gravitate to available outdoor seating: a row of what appears to be old movie theater chairs… stuffing coming out through loose cushion stitches appears to be *squint* hair…?

Jason Garner is there. I’ve never actually spoken to him, but with his bare, tattooed arms and cheerful blue mohawk, he’s recognizable to say the least. He’s crouched over taking pictures of a cactus by the stairs. The cactus is smiling.

“We’ve never actually met. We’re LizNDoug (run it together. All one word. Can’t have one without the other… like peanut butter and jelly)… Salim’s friends.”

Sure! He’s seen us at shows. The same way we’ve seen him. He disappears inside to see if a Salim could be located. No, he’s gone off to eat.

I continue wilting. It’s 15 minutes to the announced door time, but there is no one around. Absolutely no one. The key to walking in where you may or may not belong is confidence. Just walk in. So we did.

The difference between the bright sunshine and the low light dazzles my eyes. A benevolent shadow form coalesces and hugs me. My eyes adjust. Olivia Willson-Piper. There she is being happy to see me again - still getting use to that: kind people being happy to see me for no other reason than my basic existence. She’s there with Marty having a bite to eat.

Marty is a vegetarian. He informs us while delicately unwrapping his… wrap (?) that he also doesn’t like peppers. He tweezes them out while we chat.

Olivia and I end up under a light source comparing tattoos. I start naming off the menagerie of animals that dot my arms. And let slip that my favorite chicken - an artistically rendered Lavender Orpington on my left forearm- is called Olivia. She seems delighted.

John Dufhilo appears. I haven’t really ever spoken to him before, but just like Jason Garner, he is immediately recognizable. We are Salim facilitated Facebook friends and not too long ago, I added my voice to those on said social media platform rejoicing as he recovered from a massive heart attack. He surprises and delights me with a hug. It is wonderful seeing him well and hearty.

Joe Reyes is there. We know him a little better than some of these satellites we have met in Salim’s orbit. He has the best smile. Seems genuinely delighted to just be in a room with air. The addition of friends and the opportunity to play music? Even better.

At some point Salim appears. It’s hard to talk amidst the bustle of a bar waking up for its nightly duties. Something upsetting happened to him the day before. I hug him. I got nightmare family news (related to the nightmare of my family… namely it’s toppled, usurped, disgraced patriarch. Daddy issues? I’ll have a lifetime subscription) this very day and have spent a good portion of my afternoon crying.

He’s going to play, “Let Go” from his new album, he tells me. I like it… this is an excellent idea. The *only* thing that would give me peace right now is that very [impossible] action.

Time passes. Positions shift. Marty dons glasses and moves to a different table. He looks like a stern bookkeeper going over accounts. In reality, he’s making a setlist.

More time passes. I don’t mind the wait. To get my fix in the vicinity of musicians, I used to queue up first thing in the morning and spend all day without food or water to be first in, front row for The Flaming Lips. My only reward for that might be a faraway wave from Steven or a chat with Kliph.

Sitting inside the dark and cool, talking to these fascinating people - my friends - this is heaven.

Early on, Doug is recruited to run merch. I’m not surprised. The merch table has become our station. Doug is in his element. Me? I’ll helpfully point at the records. Tell people after the set where the songs they thought were catchy originated. Tell them ‘A Nuclear Winter’ yes, that’s the newest one. But I stand here next to him proudly. Whatever you need. Whatever helps.

Salim and the Treefort Five are first to play tonight (he tells me later their new name is ‘Salim and the Philistines.’)

I am deeply deeply biased at this point… but they sound incredible to me. Seeing Salim backed by a full band… he comes alive in a completely new way as a performer. I’ve been lucky enough to behold this two other times - Sons of Hermann Hall in Dallas in 2019. Then this year (2023) opening for the Old 97s. I love my friend as an energetic front man.

This time is different and monumental. This time Marty. Marty Willson-Piper formerly of Australian band The Church (this man is the whole reason we were brought in to warm regard of Salim Nourallah - he and Doug share a mutual love of The Church.)

Marty and Olivia came over in 2018 to be enfolded in to the Nourallah musical family. Recording, producing has happened even with a global pandemic to work around.

This is work coming to fruition. Nuclear Winter finally birthed. Marty is finally on stage by Salim’s side. I know this is monumental for him and I love it. I love witnessing this. I love being here. Love that he wants me here. Love that these amazing people jam packed in to this tiny room are our friends now too.

The amassed gents rip through a mix of Salim standards and a heavy dose of things from the new album.

The set end nears. I’ve snapped my pictures. Taken my videos. All in the name of seeing; witnessing; presence.

Olivia is on stage. I know ‘Friends for Life’ is coming. That’s one she started playing on during the shows 6 mos ago. This one makes me sad. I have a dear dear friend who allowed me to turn him on to Salim (there is no greater compliment than to let me show you the music I love… then love it to). This is his favorite. My friend is in Greenland. I haven’t seen him in months.

Friends for life… if I had to sum up my time with Salim it would be with those three words. If you are lucky enough to ever be on the receiving end of Salim’s regard, you have a friend for life. Just shut up and enjoy the ride.

But then it’s time. Time to ‘Let Go’ - another song made more achingly beautiful with the deft application of Olivia’s bow.

I cry. Bitterly. Let go, he tells me, surrender to the things I can’t control. Best advice possible… I’m so far away from that right now, all I can do is feel sorry for myself.

The set is over. Back to husband in the merch nook (we’ve seen many incarnations. This one is nice. Padded booths made into their own cozy corner.)

I feel wrung out. Physically. Emotionally. An older gentleman asks me if I’m ok. Brings me water. Oh good. I look as bad as I feel.

The Deathray Davies are next. I know John Dufilho fronts this configuration, but I’ve never seen them. I also don’t know how many people are in the band. Musicians appear - to tired eyes - to swarm the stage like clowns from a tiny car.

They tear in to their first song and I like them immediately. Their energy is palpable and consuming. Nick Earl appears to be old school Seattle grunge: rakes his hands across an artfully battered Jazzmaster, long hair hanging in his face.

That energy is catching. I spy my first dancer of the evening. This woman gives no fucks and it is a scene to behold. Her shuck and jive is part Ministry of Silly Walks part scraping-gum-off-her-shoe. She gyrates with an oily self aware sensuality. At one point, her untethered breasts seem in danger of escaping. Not so fast. She doesn’t miss a beat: stuffs the offending mammary back down through the armhole of her sundress. Not today, titty.

She. Is. Magnificent.

Salim is with us at this point. I start relaying what I have seen to Doug. Salim wants in to the conversation. I smile thinking about how I will pay tribute to her, “Just getting inspired.”

It’s at this point, the night takes it’s massive, sudden toll. I’ve got a stabbing pain in the back of my head. Great. When I fantasize about death, it’s quick. I don’t want to stroke out. Here I come, it’s The Big One.

… or I’m hungry and tired and dehydrated.

Salim says it’s ok, you don’t have to stay. Marty and Olivia are already gone. The place has cleared out in a hurry. Even those disciplines of rock have to get home at a reasonable hour on a weekday. There’s work in the morning.

I hate to miss Buttercup, but I don’t think Joe will blame me for feeling poorly.

So we sneak off to the healing powers of Whataburger.

I will live to rock another day.

[zenruption]

Treefort Roaming Saturday and Sunday (Better Late Than Never)

Treefort Roaming Saturday and Sunday (Better Late Than Never)

The thing about Treefort is you want to spend time roaming, not writing, so this is my Saturday and Sunday captain’s log, and it isn’t finished until Thursday. You may feel free to whip me now.

All I can say is that it was damn cold (the coldest Treefort ever), but damn worth it. To all of the performers that performed through the cold and had their hands feel like they were being pierced by icicles, I salute you. You were all fabulous.

Saturday

Saturday was a new experience that I am grateful to have had. Along with my buddy Tim and his two five-year-old twins, Sydney and Dillion, I got to experience Boise’s unique festival from a kid's perspective. I am happy to report that Treefort is truly kid friendly.

We began by walking down the Greenbelt to the park with Uncle Brian, regaling them with\ stories about the kid-eating trolls that hide outside the tunnels. Five-year-olds love collecting swag, and they did, most notably little cow key chains from Simplot company, but Kidfort was their jam.

I had no idea. Kids get to color their own t-shirts, volunteers show them musical instruments and how they are played, and it’s generally excellent kid mayhem. While we only checked out a few bands in the park, and eating the best corndog ever was spectacular.

Getting Out of the Cold

Once kid frivolity time was over and we returned to the car, it was time to drop me off downtown and get out of the cold. One of Boise’s most favorite venues was plenty warm for a guy totally unprepared to freeze. Nuerolux never disappoints, and it was a reverb day. Perfect.

I went for Disco Doom, a fantastic band out of Switzerland, but caught 20 minutes of Boise-based Porcelain Tongue. To my liking, Porcelain Tongue brings it loud and is undoubtedly a tremendous local act to see if you like to feel your reverb and watch it cause ripples in your friends’ beers.

Switzerland-based Disco Doom released its first new album in eight years, Mt. Surreal, in September 2022, and it was well worth the wait. The band has toured with such greats as Dinosaur Jr, Built-to-Spill, and the Breeders and was a worthy addition to Treefort.

Like so many Treeforts, Disco Doom doesn’t fit in a simple box. Between the guitar distortion on their new album’s title track and the infusion of electronic elements, these guys are outstanding. Gabriele de Mario’s lyrics are laid back amid pulsating sounds, kind of like a grittier version of Beck.

I hope to see these guys again.

The Jackpot

With some time left before going to watch the disaster that was the Gonzaga-UConn basketball game, I stayed to watch You Said Strange, who I’ll be emailing and checking in on today.

I love these guys! Hailing from Normandy, they were pleased when I told them the next day that they were 2023’s Radiohead. Their guitar work is outstanding, with a psychedelic twist. It’s glorious reverb with incredible lyrics and vocals from Eliot.

Even better, they’re fantastic guys! I couldn’t wait to watch them again on Sunday at the Hideout Stage. With their full-length album on the way, I genuinely believe they have the potential to be much bigger and will undoubtedly be doing a longer and larger U.S. tour next year on bigger stages.

Older

As I get older, the nights out until 2 am become far fewer, but after watching a Zags game that nearly brought me to tears, I was off to spend the night at the Olympic, and watch Joe Hertzler and the Rainbow Seekers.

The Olympic is an outstanding venue for any band, but especially those bands that just emanate fun, and that’s Joe Hertzler. If you’re ready to groove, this is your opportunity. The lyrics are fabulous, and the saxophone is spectacular. 

Fun, dancing, and smiles resulted from 70 minutes of Bliss. Let’s hope they’re back in town soon.

That’s a wrap

It was time to head home and sleep for what would be a cold Sunday.

Sunday

Sunday wasn’t just cold; it was freezing and the coldest Treefort I’ve ever experienced. Oh man, I felt for everyone playing outside. Having missed my Seattle friends Smokey Brights set, I’m still tempted to email them and ensure they survived.

Heading back for round two of You Said Strange, I started with Plastic Picnic on the main stage. This incredible Brooklyn-based band made up of PNW transplants froze their asses off for our pure enjoyment. How any band could lose feeling in their hands and keep going is beyond me.

Plastic Picnic is dream rock at its finest, navigating happiness and sadness with aplomb. You couldn’t help but just dig in for every song and feel the expressions of love, anxiety, and sorrow. The lyrics can be haunting, the harmony between members is outstanding, and Emile Panerio’s vocals are outright angelic.

Round Two

It was time to watch my new favs, You Said Strange, a second time, and I was so fortunate to spend quite some time with them in the artist’s lounge after. Regardless of whether or not I get to help them develop their North American presence, it was an honor.

I cannot encourage you enough to check them out.

By the way, the free patty melts we ate (I had mine earlier) were so damn tasty. I never knew we get free food!

Finally

Leikeli47 was phenomenal and more than deserving of placement as the ending Main Stage act.

Fun, cheering, dancing, and positivity surrounded you as the crowd pulsed with her totally original rap that felt like a celebration. If there is a fantastic artist that I’d love to meet, she’s it. Please give her finalized trilogy of albums a listen.

Home

Freezing wears you out. A little walking and checking in on the incredible sounds of Space Moth at the new Treefort Music Hall was an excellent finish before heading home to sleep off the cold.

Just a note on the Treefort Music Hall, it’s spectacular. Almost perfectly designed for music, with 180-degree viewing and excellent acoustics. Love it!

As I think about this year’s Treefort, Boise has developed an outstanding music scene. We’re the friendly city where everyone participates and loves to jam. There are no barriers to enjoying the music and no crowd of any certain type or age. It’s everyone, and it’s outstanding.

As I start Psycho Gecko Talent Management, I can’t think of a better city in which to do so.

Brian McKay is a founder of Zenruption Media, a professional writer, and has recently founded Psycho Gecko Talent Management to advance his passion for music. Treefort is his favorite yearly event.

[theboisebeat]

(via Treefort Music Festival In Boise Is Bringing Music, Food, Comedy, Talks And More For Five Awesome Days)

[therunningeducator]

All things Tree Fort- click the link. Podcast comes out Monday 4/19.

Website:

Tickets:

News:

Socials: @treefortfest

Treefort Music Fest is a five-day music and arts festival that brings hundreds of emerging and independent artists from across the world to downtown Boise, Idaho.

The fest was conceived in 2012 as an extension of the current momentum in the Boise music scene and art scene at large. Its vision is that Treefort will provide the opportunity for Boise to play host to the national and regional music scenes while showcasing the local up-and-coming talent. Treefort was the first music festival to become B-Corp certified in 2016 and was proudly recognized as the Cultural Ambassador for the City of Boise 2015-2017.

In 2020, Treefort became the first fan-owned festival.

[shambolicccfinds]

Band’s Album Cover I was tagged by the wonderful @davidmont and my resulting cover is hands-down the most ridiculously emo thing I have ever seen (the photo is actually an amazing and heartbreaking photo called "Sidewalk Dreamer" by Rick del Carmen, but the random quote that I got made this thing look like an actual crap music cover for a 2009 teen angst band 👌). This was fun though, 10/10 would do again. P.S. pls forgive the bad font choice; I'm on mobile. 😂 Rules: Go to Wikipedia and hit “random” (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random) The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band. Go to Quotations Page and hit “random” (www.quotationspage.com/random.php3) The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album. Go to flickr and “explore the last seven days” (www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days) Third picture, no matter what it is, is your album cover. Use Photoshop or similar to put it all together. Post it to show off and tag some friends to post theirs! @iambird @somethingterriblyclever @mangorosie @hrathe3rd @dysperdis @thorins-treefort @supruler @pineappleoceans @sailor-minivan and all of the other people I'm inevitably forgetting to tag (looking at you, lovely mutuals and regulars) I see y'all in my notes and I figured why not, let's bug 'em (pass if you want obviously, but if you come up with something hilarious tag me!) Have fun!

[ghostsapling12-13]

This first one, I would have been five? playing with ninja turtles in my treefort. Second one I was thirty two and crying about israel