#Highlights and lowlights full
When Christ-like poet Janea Kelly appeared in the pouring rain with a trash bag full of plastic-wrapped baguettes, passing them out to the hungry and stoned. Taking refuge for 20 minutes in the rain stage on Sunday, mostly empty, while the rain pounded down on the roof. The man pouring out his beer on his foot his friend asking, "Dude, why are you pouring beer on your wound?" April Camlin, world's best drummer, performing with Dan Deacon.
He then brought out a chorus, featuring Ami Dang, Cricket Arrison, and Abdu Ali, among others, for the first-ever performance of another grand, sweeping song. Dan Deacon bringing out a full band again, including about 10 brass instruments, for a performance of the "USA" suite. Not exactly a revelation, but it was funny to have this formally acknowledged. Fields, after all, is "like a big show at The Crown, outside," he said. After dealing with technical difficulties of his own, Dan Deacon said he would have to ride it out like a show at The Crown. Fluct, violently thrashing for the dozen or so audience members who could actually see them in the packed Dance Pavilion.
Ingesting some substances which all congealed beautifully, more beautifully than expected, during Prince Rama drummer Nimai Larson who was basically jumping up and down during the whole set realizing I was in love with Prince Rama thinking about the exchange between the performers and the audience feeling like the members of Prince Rama were having so much fun which made it so much more fun for us, too. Putting Emmanuel Nicolaidis behind the drum kit was a particularly good choice the way he pounded out the rhythms proved to be especially exciting live. With the addition of a drummer, bassist, and guitarist, the songs had a nice full sound, while also giving Dibb's vocals a more prominent place. Josh Dibb, aka Deakin of Animal Collective, playing for the first time since releasing his oft-delayed solo debut "Sleep Cycle." Despite some technical difficulties with the monitors onstage, Dibb's set translated well. A favorite line: "Bury me in ice/ I'll keep my cool forever." Sullivan's pastoral and quietly introspective poems felt like guided meditation (in a good way), or like a high in which every feeling you get is equalized, where you recognize life's beauty and humor and darkness and idleness all at the same time and feel just OK with it all at once too. In the poem, she describes an idyllic beach scene in Florida, which smoothly transitions like a daydream into imagery of bombings and geysers.
Raspi read a poem about Boca Raton and then the pool DJ maybe 100 feet away played seagull sounds, as if on cue. Stephens' slow words and droning background sounds created a sort of visual song the chorus involved, first, opening several small white umbrellas and tossing them aside, reading more, then picking up the umbrellas and smoothly, swiftly spinning around with them, turning them inside out. Stephens' multimedia poetry performance opened the set and matched the sleepy mood. Lying on the grass in the shade at the amphitheater on Saturday afternoon, for poetry by Michael Wasteneys Stephens, Lily Herman, Grace Davis, Suzie Doogan, Lindsay Raspi, and Brendan Sullivan.
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