This year’s edition of the Community Festival runs from June 22 to 24th. This being a Friday, festivities don’t really get swinging until noon, when Log take the Gazebo Stage at the same time Sugar Pill grace the Main one. And fortunately for us, some video footage of the latter set exists:
These guys are awesome. They have a loose, energetic vibe that is perfect for kicking off a festival such as this. They’ve got mad chops but don’t beat you over the head with them, and play a nice variety of styles. As an added bonus, they even debut a new song, although I can’t quite catch the title. Also Standing Next To God. During their last tune, he introduces the musicians. Once again it’s difficult to make out what he’s saying – Michael Stubbs on bass, I think, and beyond that I couldn’t tell you. The occasional artsier touches of this video are kind of cool, I guess.
Friday, June 22
Time | Performer | Stage |
---|---|---|
12:00 | Log | Gazebo |
Sugar Pill | Main | |
12:15 | Derek DiCenzo & Friends | Jazz |
12:50 | Poophouse Reilly | Main |
1:00 | Dr. X | Gazebo |
1:30 | Intermittent Animals | Jazz |
1:40 | Kingrods | Main |
2:00 | Zen Blues Band | Gazebo |
2:30 | Freak the Fun-a-potamus | Jazz |
Bloody Matt Dillons | Main | |
3:00 | Controversy | Gazebo |
3:20 | The Emerald Down | Main |
3:30 | Solar System Navigators | Jazz |
4:00 | Arnett Howard | Gazebo |
4:10 | Pfifer | Main |
4:30 | Lisa Clark | Jazz |
4:45 | Leeann McGuire | Arts |
5:00 | The Ark Band | Gazebo |
Pretty Mighty Mighty | Main | |
5:15 | Anna Sheer | Arts |
5:30 | Rodney McCoy and Deep Pockets | Jazz |
6:00 | Bob Scott | Arts |
Scott Gorsuch | Gazebo | |
As Is | Main | |
The Velveteens | Poplar | |
6:30 | Tim O’Connor | Arts |
7:00 | Fletch | Gazebo |
Circus of Cool | Jazz | |
A Planet For Texas | Main | |
Tim Easton | Poplar | |
7:15 | Columbus Sacred Harp Singers | Arts |
8:00 | Travelin’ Tom & Dr. Paul | Arts |
Spectre | Gazebo | |
The Shantee | Main | |
Hensley Sturgis | Poplar | |
8:15 | Sean Carney with Ms. Kitty’s Hot Box & special guest | Jazz |
8:45 | Joe Bob Billy | Arts |
9:00 | New Basics Brass Band | Gazebo |
Rancid Yak Butter Tea Party | Main | |
The Sovines | Poplar | |
9:30 | Paul Brown’s Science Gravy Orchestra | Jazz |
9:45 | Turkeys In The Straw | Arts |
10:00 | Flex Crew | Gazebo |
Howlin’ Maggie | Main | |
Ray Fuller and the Bluesrockers | Poplar | |
11:10 | Tony Monaco | Jazz |
The Kingrods are Kevin Spain’s new band. He quit Silo The Huskie last year to form this new group, with JD Dallas (formerly of Dog Rocket). They play a mix of their own material alongside some great old school hard rock covers.
Many, many of these acts are fantastic, though it’s always even more compelling to see some of the pairings, when two performers are playing at the same time – like The Ark Band and Pretty Mighty Mighty, across the park from one another during the 5:00 slot. Not much audio or video has surfaced from this year, although then again I’m somewhat surprised we have as much as we do.
Clintonville Community Market has a stall set up in the vendor area, of course, and there’s some guy selling “lucky bamboo” plants. People selling tie-dyed shirts, too, of course, although there’s not much need to mention this. And jewelry peddlers, framed works of art, and trinkets, etc.
I’ve never seen Rancid Yak Butter Tea Party before now, but this is a ferocious set. Things get off to a fiery start – and with this solid wall of orange light and smoke, you might be forgiven for thinking you have accidentally wandered into hell. Or at least a raging forest fire. And then the very next song is named something to do with fog and fire. I detect a theme of sorts emerging here. It’s always a funny, jarring contrast to hear a vocalist shrieking his head off, but then speaking in the most polite, docile voice imaginable between the tunes. Bonus points for swigging from a gallon jug of Gatorade too. The mellow little breakdown and crooning turn is unexpected but makes for a most appreciated breather. These are some interesting changes all around. I can’t get a good look at the drummer, but this trio up front are about as different in appearance as three young white dudes can be. Not that this matters, of course, although the singer’s woolly looking shorts are a nice touch. And for that matter the caveman skirt the guitarist is wearing as well. Some of this tuneless shrieking I could do without, but overall, I’m digging them early on.
These guys rock, and they can certainly play their instruments. They make for a compelling enough live spectacle (and I can only imagine what an unholy racket they must make in a place like Ruby Tuesday, which they mention playing soon). But there’s ultimately not much here to make these songs stand out from one another. If you ask me do I like these guys, after seeing this, then I would say yes – but nothing much stronger than that. To get someone to admit that the bass player in a band is kind of interesting to watch, well, you’ve really accomplished something there, no joke. It’s difficult to imagine throwing on one of their discs around the house, however.
But there is this almost jazzy breakdown, right before some wrench-handed robots besiege the stage! So that’s something. And I guess that song does stand out from the others to some extent, with its floating keyboard finale and all. And the same applies to the squiggly synth madness, that banjo sound Tyler’s dialing up during the middle section of their closing number. Overall I would give the drummer and bass player an A; guitarist and songwriting and stage presence a B; singer probably a C. As far as the video, it’s very professionally shot. Some of the artsier touches, like the swirling BACKSTAGE PASS legend, are puzzling at first, although somebody mentioned to me that portions of Comfest are broadcast on TV. I’m guessing this was one such segment.
Starting a half hour later over at the Jazz Tent, Paul Brown’s Science Gravy Orchestra positively light up the stage. Awesome stuff. Paul Brown himself is the dude shredding on guitar, and often has his eyes closed while ripping off these amazing runs. The sax player gets lost in the mix most of the time, though. He’s got Foley on bass, which admittedly works better than seeing him as a band leader, and then Tony McClung on drums (who is also no slouch, it must be said). Then some guy in Robin Hood attire, feather in cap and all, gets up to announce the next act.
Saturday, June 23
Time | Performer | Stage |
---|---|---|
9:00 | Sipra Pimputkar & Yoga Workshop | Arts |
10:00 | Feng Tai Chi Workshop | Arts |
11:00 | Leslie Zak | Arts |
11:45 | Village Dance Studio | Arts |
12:00 | Two Feminist Chix From Hell | Jazz |
The Big Creak | Main | |
Gil Mantera’s Party Dream | Gazebo | |
Open Mic | Poplar | |
12:15 | Sabrina Hughes | Arts |
12:45 | In Situ, Jr. | Arts |
12:50 | Moodswing | Jazz |
1:00 | Fenster | Main |
Planet 12 | Gazebo | |
1:15 | Kids Of Broadway | Arts |
Vena Cava | Poplar | |
1:45 | Derek Mortland | Gazebo |
2:00 | The Review featuring Jon Coleman | Jazz |
Blatant Finger | Main | |
2:10 | Annie Finnerty | Gazebo |
The Midnighters | Poplar | |
2:15 | David Krohn | Arts |
2:45 | Arise Dance Co. | Arts |
3:00 | Columbus Percussion (all ages drum circle) | Arts |
Grafton | Main | |
Terry Davidson and the Gears | Gazebo | |
Lords of the Highway | Poplar | |
3:10 | Tenors Head On | Jazz |
4:00 | Crouching Ro-z, Hidden Darryl | Arts |
Yumbambe | Gazebo | |
Barry Chern | Poplar | |
4:10 | Silo the Huskie | Main |
4:20 | Madrugada | Jazz |
4:30 | Raks Shadan | Arts |
Bob Sauls | Poplar | |
5:00 | The Wahoos | Gazebo |
5:10 | Flipping Hades | Poplar |
5:15 | Columbus Police & Fire (pipe and drums) | Arts |
5:20 | Watershed | Main |
5:30 | Kelly McLennan | Jazz |
6:00 | Columbus Alternative High School | Arts |
The Mullins Band | Gazebo | |
6:10 | X-Rated Cowboys | Poplar |
6:30 | Suade | Main |
6:40 | Ibada | Jazz |
7:00 | “Stereopoe” | Arts |
The Shakewells | Gazebo | |
7:10 | 84 Nash | Poplar |
7:30 | Bread & Circus | Arts |
7:40 | Soul Fu Villains | Main |
7:50 | Lennox Avenue Express | Jazz |
8:00 | Burpee’s Seedy Theatrical Co. | Arts |
Mendelsonics | Gazebo | |
8:10 | 13 O’Clock | Poplar |
8:45 | Full Frontal Nudity | Arts |
8:50 | Johnson Brothers | Main |
9:00 | Message | Jazz |
Jack Neat | Gazebo | |
9:10 | The Bygones | Poplar |
9:15 | Pants & Cheese Theater | Arts |
9:30 | Michael Kent | Arts |
10:00 | Foley | Main |
Willie Phoenix | Gazebo | |
10:10 | Scrawl | Poplar |
10:20 | Cooper Quartet | Jazz |
11:30 | Flypaper | Jazz |
The weather is a little nicer early on today than it had been Friday. Mid-day, there’s a five piece at the Jazz Tent playing an extended version of Herbie Hancock’s Cantaloupe Island. The key attractions here are the black dude in dress shirt and slacks, wailing on the trumpet, and this somewhat odd acting white guy with a moustache, rocking the keys. He is great, too, but makes these strange expressions while soloing, almost like talking to an imaginary friend. It’s an interesting sight. The bass player they’ve literally stuck into a corner, which we might expect. The drummer also has mad chops, and while I guess that’s true of the older gent on guitar, something about jazz to me makes guitar a less than ideal instrument most of the time. Although Paul Brown yesterday was a notable excepion, it often just doesn’t seem to really work. They sound top notch, though, overall.
Elsewhere, Crouching Ro-z and Hidden Darryl have half an hour on the Arts stage to talk about tai chi. Paul Brown (he of the Science Gravy Orchestra) and Andy Woodson provide background accompaniment. Meanwhile, as this woman reads from her prepared essay, a couple performers demonstrate some of what she’s talking about. Followed by a couple other speakers on the mic. I don’t know, they seem to be enjoying themselves up there, and their set is oddly engaging, more than I would have expected. Some people even spontaneously (I think) get into the spirit of things out on the lawn.
A 1970s feel persists when some other larger ensemble takes the I Wish You Jazz stage, performing among others the old Skylark jam Wildflowers. They’ve got this smooth vocalist in a Hawaiian shirt, horns, keys, you name it. Killer stuff.
It begins to rain in the early evening, though eventually clearing. Bob Fitrakis is here, in a white Comfest tee shirt, hanging out at one point in the wine tent. Darryl Mendelson is cruising around in a golf cart with some other guy, and holding a dog. There’s an orange sign taped to the front which proclaims him “Mr. Entertainment.” Probably not the first guy to call himself this, although he is one of the Comfest organizers, so that certainly counts for something. As twilight approaches, some bluesy trio at the Jazz Tent is positively tearing it up – though I’m unable to figure out who this is. The guitarist, this older, well dressed white guy, is a total animal on the guitar.
Saturday is by far the longest, beginning early and running late. John Mullins used to be in Ekoostik Hookah but quit back in ’96. They are playing this weekend too, though, of course. I feel we’re a bit over-Hookah’d here and that the festival organizers should have picked one or the other – then again, maybe there just aren’t that many good bands here in town. Maybe they were struggling to fill slots.
I kind of doubt that, however, and anyway I don’t mean this as a knock. This John Mullins stuff is totally fine and I might even prefer hearing him at this point to EH (talk about some great initials! They’re just about writing their own conversation: “hey man, you wanna drift over and catch the Ekoostik Hookah set?” “EH? Do I have to?”) My biggest complaint really is that these jammy bands tend to sound the same after a while. Totally fine material for kicking back in the grass on a summer afternoon, though, it must be said. I do really like the keyboard solo in the middle of the 2nd song too, Harmonic Convergence. Actually, the next one, Mississippi Steamboat, is pretty cool also, where Mullins is singing about playing cards with his grandpa. Then the whole band’s really flying along on Heavens To Mergatroid, a much more aggressive pace than you expect from an outfit like this, an effective contrast that works twice as well in this setting. The entire six song set is pretty killer, really, if I’m being honest.
As far as the rest of today’s performers…this Foley obsession by certain people around town is perplexing to me. Then again I’ve only seen him one other time, that I recall, and maybe it was just an off night back then. I feel like his prominence is more due to his having played with some famous people back in the day as opposed to what he’s actually doing now, however. As though some influential locals can’t get over that fact.
Sunday, June 24
Time | Performer | Stage |
---|---|---|
9:00 | Feng Tai Chi and (same time, same place) Sipra Pimputkar | Arts |
10:00 | The Shireinu Trio | Arts |
10:45 | Hillel International Dancers | Arts |
11:30 | Columbus International Folk Dancers | Arts |
12:00 | Chief Johnny Lonesome | Jazz |
Todd Stahl’s Jazz To Go | Main | |
Blue Level | Gazebo | |
Open Mic | Poplar | |
12:15 | WOW (Womyn of Wisdom) | Arts |
12:45 | Terina & Tasia | Arts |
1:00 | El Ritmo | Arts |
Sirens | Gazebo | |
1:15 | Listen to the Jazz All-Stars | Main |
Kim Crawford/New London | Poplar | |
1:30 | Solo Tango | Arts |
Backstage Quartet | Jazz | |
2:00 | Thoissane West African Dance | Arts |
Uncle Sam’s Dream Machine | Gazebo | |
Terry Keller | Poplar | |
2:30 | Tony West and the Imani Folk Theater | Main |
Ricki C. | Poplar | |
2:40 | Kim Pensyl | Jazz |
3:00 | Selah | Arts |
Men Of Leisure | Gazebo | |
3:15 | Ukelele Man | Poplar |
3:30 | S.P.I.R.I.T. with Tavaris | Main |
3:45 | Bob Weisenberger Lipetz | Arts |
3:50 | Moxie | Jazz |
4:00 | Bob Fox & Edward Lense | Arts |
Patrick Woods | Gazebo | |
4:15 | The Hellbound Truckers | Poplar |
4:30 | McGuffy Lane with John Schwab | Main |
Kenny Ruffin | Gazebo | |
4:45 | Phil Minor | Arts |
5:00 | Mas Bagua | Arts |
Joe Diamond | Jazz | |
Jason Clayton | Gazebo | |
5:15 | The Marbles | Poplar |
5:30 | One Riot One Ranger | Main |
5:45 | Is Said & Advance Party | Arts |
6:00 | American Gypsy | Gazebo |
6:10 | Keith Henson Octet | Jazz |
6:15 | The Media Whores | Poplar |
6:30 | Dan Dougan | Arts |
Ekoostik Hookah | Main | |
6:45 | Umar Bin Hassan | Arts |
7:00 | Afrorican Ensemble | Gazebo |
7:15 | Sean Woosley Band | Poplar |
7:40 | Brian Olsheski | Jazz |
8:00 | Hoo Doo Soul Band | Main |
Fred Haring and the Franklin County All-Stars | Gazebo | |
8:15 | The Randys | Poplar |
9:00 | Grinders | Jazz |
Jive Turkeys | Main | |
Donna Mogavero Band | Gazebo | |
9:15 | Johnny Rebel | Poplar |
The day starts out innocuously enough, anyway, even if eventually becoming one that I know I will never forget. For tragic reasons, mostly, though at least a few good ones as well.
Alan left a message last night, about us hitting day three together, and so he and I have ridden here in his truck. We even somehow manage to land a prime parking slot right along the street, on the north side of Goodale Park. One of the first noteworthy developments, though we don’t know this at the time, occurs soon after he and I have entered the park. We’re standing just off the paved pathway, which slants diagonally toward the intersection of Buttles and Dennison, facing that direction for some odd reason as we appraise the action. At roughly the same time, our eyes settle upon this figure walking away from us. I haven’t seen this character in over a decade, since he moved away from our school district, but he has a very distinctive shuffling gait and I know immediately who it is, though only glimpsing his profile. And so does Alan.
“That’s Josh ____,” he says.
“Yes it is,” I concur.
But he appears to be leaving the park, possibly, and is already a good distance away from us. Plus plenty of other distractions await at every turn, none more so than this onslaught of eye candy. These hippie chicks glimpsed everywhere, walking to and fro, most wearing tank tops and not many bras restraining them underneath. Therefore we forget about spotting our old friend and continue onward into the festival.
We pay $2 apiece for Comfest 30th anniversary mugs, 32 ouncers, then fill these up with $6 worth of Rolling Rock draft. A bit steep, to say the least, but what the hell. There are little white triangular Rolling Rock flags everywhere, so they must have contributed some advertising dough. Anyway, right around this time, I think soon after we have our beers in hand, Tawnya calls him, says she and Megan are driving down to meet us here.
While awaiting their arrival, we continue wandering around. This could be the best weather of the weekend. Quite a bit of chalk art on the pavement in at least one section. The art cars are of course on full display here, like the one with a bunch of glued on objects and the license plate TOY ART. Among today’s Jazz Tent offerings, the all-female ensemble Moxie is holding court here, and they are on fire! Actually the one kindly grandma looking woman they have on guitar, in a colorful blue and purple shirt or whatever, she sounds way better to me – seems to fit the music more – than that guy in the five piece from yesterday. Both guitarists, really, because they have another on the left, this group counts eight members. A trumpet player, two saxes (the chick with the long brown hair, in white pants and grey sleeveless top, is especially sharp) (she plays her instrument very well, too, ha ha). No but seriously, they all rock. Once again the bassist isn’t given a ton of room, not based on what I’ve seen, but the drummer and black lady on keys are both killer too. And even the girl on bass does get to lay down a cool little funky groove on this one somewhat slower offering. The keyboardist stands up to sing a little later and shows she has some pipes, too.
Meandering around a bit, Alan and I encounter some reggae guy on steel drums singing about “bills to pay.” Then the girls get here and we’re watching some strange but interesting band on the cabana, a 3 piece consisting of violin, bass, and 12 string guitar – the two hilarious hobos dancing in front are apparently not regular members.
More beers, we visit the shops. Then Alan and Tawnya are in line for gyros at this one stand, while Megan and I are randomly, independently combing through the tents and tables selling all kinds of exotic trinkets. I’m about three vendors down from her and am looking at these African masks. I happen to turn to glance down the midway, and bust Megan out, just standing there staring at me, checking me out from afar. She tries to turn away abruptly, but has already been caught. It’s flattering, to be sure, but I’m hoping she doesn’t get any crazy ideas.
This strange late 70s vibe persistently wafts across the proceedings today, as though this exact same festival were transpiring in 1979 or something and we somehow stepped into it. Although I suppose it helps that a large percentage of the attendees are dressing the part, and the music often fits.
At some point, we wind up over by the main stage, just hanging out watching the bands. I’m not sure how many acts we witness here, but believe it was at least two. More beers are consumed. Then Alan and I happen to notice that Josh is standing within earshot of us, off to the right, and call out his name. We meet somewhere in the middle, as he smiles and approaches, along with some chick. They are here with others, I believe, but it’s just the two of them drifting over to shake our hands. She’s his girlfriend, I think.
He moved away in like 1989 or ’90, something like that, so we’ve got some catching up to do. Then again, although we were close friends at one point (Alan and I were actually at a birthday party at Josh’s house in the 3rd grade, which would have been ’83 or ’84), were not at all by the time he moved away. So he’s friendly, seems somewhat curious what we’ve been up to, but is not overly chummy or anything. Says he a doctor now, then Alan tells him he’s a pilot, compared to which when I shrug and confess I’m just a lowly meat cutter, I guess it does sound hilariously lame by comparsion. Josh smiles and raises his eyebrows, tells me that’s cool, but I feel the condescension dripping off him is palpable, that he always knew I was an idiot and this merely confirms it. The moment is so awkward that Alan interjects a comment explaining that, “well yeah, but you’ve written some books, too!” So I have to talk a bit about that. Then again, the major reason I don’t have a more glamorous job is that…I don’t give a fuck about having a more glamorous job. I have no intention of working some stupid job for the rest of my life.
Well anyway, they kind of drift back over nearer their people again, though we’re still within earshot of one another. This is right around the time that the Hoo Doo Soul Band graces the main stage and begins to play. So we’re all digging them, although this collective buzz somehow begins to circulate through the crowd, about one listener in particular. It’s a very mysterious process, how this transpires. Probably starting as isolated pockets of conversation, then the next group over realizes they’re talking about the same thing you are, and these clusters expand, grow louder. Until we’re all one giant mass, united behind the same cause.
Anyway, the observer in question is this older guy, I would say in his 50s or maybe early 60s, reclining on the ground. With his head propped up, facing the stage, near this tree over to the right of us. We have a clear sight line to him and I would say he’s easily less than a hundred feet away. As this set plays out, we all begin to notice that this man hasn’t moved in quite some time. People begin to wonder if he’s just asleep, followed by discussions about possibly shaking him to check. Then a few brave souls agree to do so, which is when they’re then calling for a doctor. And Josh is the closest, immediately responds to their pleas.
The four of us are riveted to this scene, but don’t move any closer. I can’t even remember if the band stopped playing or not. Off in the near distance, a wailing ambulance begins to trudge its way through this crowded park, but this is understandably a mighty slow process. When you’re picturing this sea of bodies, half of them drunk or high or whatever, blankets everywhere, dogs, lawn chairs, quaint little hippie lunch spreads, you name it, or just plain dumbasses, staring at the emergency vehicle and not exactly swift to respond.
Whatever the case, they eventually make it here, as EMT workers hastily descend and attempt to revive this fellow. This is when Josh returns to our loose congregation, with sad resignation, and tells us this person is dead. He was alive and moving when we got here, he just died right in front of us.
I don’t want to get carried away claiming that this traumatized me for months or anything, but nonetheless, for me (and I’m sure a whole lot of other people), this is the first time I ever witnessed somebody die right before my eyes. I’m admittedly getting a little teary eyed and choked up, while we continue to watch them load this unknown soul into the ambulance. Once they are gone, suddenly nobody feels like being here any longer.
“Well alright,” Josh says, shaking our hands, “now I know what you look like as adults. In case I see you at the mall or something.”
No attempt is made at exchanging contact information, but that’s really just alright. Alan asks me if I can drive us back to his place, since he’s feeling fairly wasted. But then Tawnya immediately shoots him a stern, reproachful glance – I have no idea what this is about, since I’m not the least bit wasted, though maybe she just considers me too shaken up to get behind the wheel. So Alan says he’s fine to drive, actually, on second thought, and makes a joke about being the best drunk driver around. We walk to our pair of vehicles, to finish off the night with a cookout at his place.
If not leaving when we did, there’s a good chance we would have seen or at least heard some of this set by The Grinders below. Or maybe some of these notes were wafting over to our eardrums, I’m not sure. They would have begun playing, albeit down at the jazz stage, right around the time that we were leaving. I don’t know anything about these guys, but they certainly sound proficient on their instruments, and I’m guessing I would have enjoyed seeing them. The jazz organ is always an appreciated touch, and if nothing else, this bass player has mad chops, more of a funky edge to his playing than anyone else I’ve heard on this stage from this weekend. And the sax player is totally blowing the (canvas? vinyl? plastic?) roof off at various junctures. They mention Oldfield’s, so I don’t know if that means they’re playing there later or what. But then rip into a searing, terrifically loose version of Stevie Wonder’s I Wish, with vocals. Here I must say the guitar shredding does work, although then again I also wouldn’t quite classify this as jazz.
I just happened to stumble upon this set, which one of the band members posted on Soundcloud, while trying to find as much out as I could about the 2001 edition of Comfest. It has always kind of bugged me, thinking about this day every now and then, that I never learned the name of the guy who died, or what actually befell him. And all the more frustrated in that I could unearth absolutely nothing about it online today. So if anyone out there knows anything and/or remembers this day, it would be great to hear from you.