Reggae Rising @ Eel River

[Drunk Monk]

Reggae Rising @ the Eel 8/3-4-5/007

It was the 9th year of the annual Dub Lounge at a Reggae on the Eel. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. The 'big t'ree' LB, HO & DM were broken since LB dropped out. Ho & Dm both went down for the count at the start, Ho with a nasty bite and Dm with pink eye - the sequel. We recovered, but Dub Lounge #9 was dedicated to LB with the lammy that read "W.W.L.D?" adorning a ninjafied LB that no one could recognize at first. RR is as if JAH hit the reset button on RotR. I&I still grinning (and still coughing....)

Friday: I hae a note to myself that says Queen Omega. I don't know why. I remember watching her but I don't remember why I made note of it. She must have impressed me but the reason why is completely erased. Abysssians caught me chillin w/chillum, rocking to Abednego (you know what I'm talking about Bob) and suddenly realizing this is my fav song from a vaf band. I should go watch it. Collie Budz was highly anticipated due to one pop track, but not overly impressive. Richie Spice jumped up a day and was totally missed. Fantan Mojah, nothing. Anthony B still enjoyable. Heavyweight Dub Champion, the set that rocked us last year, was mellow, not so dissonate, good fun really, with fire dancers to boot. The VIP dancehall was bumping and the domebeach bus grinded until dawn.

Saturday: Tanya Stephens still has it. Morgan Heritage too. Sly and Robbie tore up until they were fronted by this white rapper chick. She was really good, but she took the vibe from heavy roots to some place else that wasn't nearly as groovy. Ziggy was fun. Again, the dancehalls rocked the night away and the dub lounge was in the perfect sound clash.

Sunday: Richie Stevens did Maniac. You know, 'she's a maniac, maniac on the floor!' Some songs just don't reggaefy well. Freddie Macgregor still delivers and Steel Pulse has such a singular yet satisfying pop spin on reggae that they are always a crowd pleaser. But it was all about Steven and Damian Marley. It's all about Damian. The anthemic power of Jamrock is being followed up with some very tasty work. He debuted One Loaf of Bread, 1st time in the U.S. If you want to see real authentic reggae and dancehall right now - if you want to know what it's all about - check out Damian Marley when he headlines. The mandate of JAH rides with the Jr. Gong.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

So...did you have a good time and listen to some music? I can't read your crazy moon language.

[cranefly]

Speaking of moon language, have you considered moonlighting as a writer for one of those music magazines?
I'm being more serious than nonsensical at this point -- though the teeter-totter never goes far in that direction.

--cranefly

[Drunk Monk]

:butthead: :butthead: :butthead:

that's moon speak morse code.

teaching a yeti jamaican patois is up there with teaching a pig to use the proper salad fork.

yes, i saw more music and got more rest than i have at a reggae on the eel in years. we had a fair amount of business in our dub lounge psych dome (at reggae, we have a silver geodesic dome for out talkdown space - this year, we added a live feed from stage in the dub lounge).

yes, i've thought of writing for music mags, or even newspapers. unfortunately there's not much call for it anymore, especially with everyone doing reviews on blogs. honestly, i'm pretty burnt out to write beyond what i have to do for work.

[Drunk Monk]

My 10th year supervising the psychiatric health of this community and little worse for the wear. But still, something is different here on the forum. Maybe my mind took some permanent damage. Suppose that was inevitable. Yeah right, Reggae Rising, never did come all the way down from that.

The music was frightfully uninspired this year. Nobody caught my ear. Clinton Fearon was notable, but mostly because he busted out old Gladiator riddems, which echo Marley and Spear and other rootsy types. Total Studio One. Roast Fish and Cornbread. Ya mon. Nevertheless, I had a irie time. I might break it down lickle mo' latah.

[Drunk Monk]

Year 11 begins as Dub Lounge psych supervisor and I'm totally bummed that I didn't elaborate more on last year. I can't remember it now. So much for my notes.

This year, DM is the last one standing of the big t'ree: DM, LB & HO. LB & HO had to bow out.

I'm trying to decide whether I should leave late tonight and plan to arrive on site around 4:20 AM (it's easiest to penetrate that scene when no one is looking) or if I should get some sleep and try to leave here at 4:20 AM to get ahead of the Bay Area traffic.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

Sleep and early up/out. Driving in the morning dark/cool is one of life's pleasures, esp. when you know it will be a hot day...

[Drunk Monk]

And we're back, at least physically. I'm in that post-RR haze now, having a hard time focusing, it's very ADD. The weekend was extraordinarily over the top, as RR is wont to be. I left early Thursday morn, around 5:30 My original plan was to leave at 4:20 and arrive promptly at 9:00 AM, ready for work, but I wound up an hour late. I blasted up without a spot of traffic, all the way watching the creeping commute on the other side, laughing at those losers on their way to work. I overpacked. I got on scene with ease, breezed down to vol check in and picked up my fully loaded packet with an all access lam and special parking privileges. then I drove down to the site, found a nice spot and set up camp.

Quickly dm found himself showered with gifts - local produce, a cool test-tube like jar to carry local produce, vanity lams including one that could get a a free meal at the backstage diner (best eats in RR), lots of beer, lots of food, several t-shirts (for psych crew and some special ones for DM) and even a pair of newly tie-dyed underwear. Life is good at RR. In fact, it was all a little too good. By the evening, Dm was feeling nauseous, perhaps from too much beer, or some bad fruit salad, or maybe that funky zuchini chocolate mmedbread. He decided to go down early and on the way nearly puked on his tent. Ironically, that was the patio of DM's right hand man, dirty Hoel, who asked if Dm was ok. Dm replied he was ok, all things considered, and the crew left him to puke in peace. It was a rough night - abdominal cramps, had to get up to puke more and had some diarhea, didn't sleep much, but felt much better in the morning. There were some discreetly offered concerns, but once DM got it all out of his system, he felt much better. He apologized to dirty hoel who replied 'it's reggae' which made both laugh, and then dm admonished DH for placing his tent a bit too close to Dm's and that the whole event was dm's way of marking his territory. That also got a good laugh. Puking is funny at RR. The dub lounge was given two night crew vehicles, a mule which the owner lent on the provision that it got decorated with stickers and a balck hyjet, which looked like the bastard child of a mitsubishi minivan/truck/batmobile. That had a shift stick on the left and steering wheel on the right, very confusing to drive. Nevertheless, dm managed to work it out so he never made a single long walk, was always driven.

[Drunk Monk]

Musically, I wasn't expecting much from RR. None of the acts held too much appeal for me. There was no one I had to see. RR has this history of having the best music during the DJ intermission interludes and the dancehalls, simply because that's all selected.

Friday, I caught Ras Michael and The Sons and Daughters of Negus which was enjoyable - a rasta elder backed by a nyabinghi circle chanting old Marley riddems. Love those big drums. Luciano closed and I remember thinking that was ok. There was nothing else of note.

Saturday, Ishi Dube sounded good but I didn't really get out to hear him. I was saving for President Brown, but then had this frustrating succession of piddly tasks that prevented me from getting out to the bowl for the entire set. Caught the beginning of Rootz Underground as a consolation prize, which was ok. Chezidek, Lutan Fyah, Capelton were all ok. Toots brought it home and many really loved that set, but for me, it seemed a bit slow for Toots. He still looks in great shape and has a phenomenal voice, but was playing more soulful and slow, and I was hoping for something more upbeat, like the old Toots, more high energy. Still, he has so many anthem tunes, it can't but be amusing.

Sunday, I didn't really tune into until The Original Wailers, which are always mediocre to me. As much as I love old Marley tunes, they have yet to secure a front man that can carry it. I felt I could have sung those better. Marcia Griffiths however looked fantastic and finally put some soul in the bowl, sweeter than Toots in a fashion because she was sampling tunes like Dawn Penn's No no no (covered by Beyonce & Rihanna), Eek a Mouse, Yellowman and even Jr Gong himself with a mellow spin on Jamrock. That was the best live performance. Aswad was funny. I totally forgot about Don't Look Back, which typifies the 80's UK pop reggae sound, all synths with a lazer beep accent. They also did my all time fav, Mossman Skank, which is a heavy heavy dub, made even more delicious since one of the top RR people and a dear friend is nicknamed Mossman. Gentleman was a lame closer but I had to run across the pit in front of stage for that to get to a nekkid tripper stage diver. I was nearly blown into the audience as I dashed past the subwoofers. It felt like being on the space shuttle when some one opens the hatch.

In the dancehalls, I had the most fun in the Cook's dome, which is incomveniently located about as far from the Dub lounge as physically possible. It was slamming. Club Umoja was the special VIP pass and was the lamest, filled with poseurs. South Beach was more traditional, just a bus, a sound system and a parachute tent. The speakers were positioned so I could hear it all night, even through my earplugs as I tried to crash. They went all night. In fact, when they stopped, I think that's what woke me up.

As for the trips, we got hammered on Friday and Sunday, the beginning and the end, the alpha and omega. There was a nekkid cowboy, a huge dude with ugly full body prison tats making gravel angels in the hospital, then sitting like a buddha in the middle, a borderline who claimed to suffer from traumatic induced personality disorder (wtf?), a kid that we found a friend, then the friend abandoned him, then got him to his tent, then he got up, then he ran to the sheriff and said "i had bad acid trip" and sat on their hood (bad move) - he was about to be tazed when a angel of a friend drove up and rescued him. This started a rumor that I got tazed. There was a dude that wanted us to rub his electroshock therapy scar and then claimed it was where he was growing an antler and another dude, 6' 6" who demanded Obama bring him a glass of water. Also, someone poured gas in a porta potty in a foiled terrorist attempt.

FUCK! I just got a call from the site. We had a death. FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!