Tu(n)esday

Love me some Cajun music...

Jesse Lége, Joel Savoy and the Cajun Country Revival







Listen to and purchase their albums here on Bandcamp or here at Valcour Records.

Summer Adventures, Part Two

In July, we took the girls to their first concert. We were keeping an eye out for a low-key, outdoor show with a band they liked, and when I saw this Hurray for the Riff Raff/Old Crow Medicine Show concert pop up, I knew it would be a good one. It was at the Shelburne Museum in Shelburne, Vermont, near Burlington on the banks of Lake Champlain. We made plans to drive up early in the day, see the museum, go to the show, and then spend the night in Burlington before heading home at our leisure the next day.

Listen to great music while watching the sun set over the Adirondacks? Yes, please!

The Shelburne Museum is an unconventional place. It's an art museum, but it looks like an old New England village, and the collections include both high art and folk art -- Impressionist paintings hung alongside handmade quilts. Electra Havemeyer Webb, from the art-collecting Havemeyer family, founded the museum in the late '40s on her husband's Webb family estate (the rest of which is now Shelburne Farms). She collected historic buildings and moved them to the property to house her art and crafts collections. Now, in addition to seeing the paintings and dolls and firearms and glassware and furniture and farm implements, you can also tour historic barns, a covered bridge, the Colchester Reef Lighthouse, a railroad station and train, replica shops and work buildings like a blacksmith shop, and the steamboat Ticonderoga, which is a National Historic Landmark.

The Ticonderoga was built in Shelburne in 1906 to carry passengers around Lake Champlain.

The relocation of the ship and it's dry docking at the museum was an engineering and preservation marvel in the 1950s.

Big chair (It's art.)

Relaxin' in front of the Colchester Reef Light

A rainbow of glassware

One of 225 carriages and sleighs and stagecoaches displayed in several antique barns. I also really liked the horse-drawn snowplow and the child-sized sleighs pulled by ponies!

The museum's famous Round Barn. This photo shows the entrances to all three floors of the barn. How else do you get animals and wagons up to the top floor and down to the basement?!

Kissy-faces (More art.)

Goofing around in the Jail.

The gardens were amazing, too.

Wishing Well

Maggie wanted to climb every single apple tree on the property and Kate really wanted to take that kissy lips bench home with us.

There is something there for absolutely everyone to enjoy.

And then we got to see a concert!

Hurray for the Riff Raff


Old Crow Medicine Show

I've never eaten so many snacks or stood in line for the portapotties so many times at a concert. The girls had such a good time, though, that it was worth it. Excellent first show!

Our tickets were actually good for two days, so we decided to go back the next morning because there was still so much to see. This was a tough call because it meant we didn't spend the morning hanging out in Burlington, which is one of my favorite little cities, but the girls were having so much fun - at a MUSEUM - so there ya go.

Ballet Dancer by Maggie (and Degas)

There's also an antique carousel. I'm just now realizing that we rode a LOT of carousels this summer.

Behind Maggie is a huge horseshoe-shaped building wrapped around the carousel which houses a 500 foot long, hand-carved wooden model of a circus parade. It took 30 years to complete the 4,000 pieces of the model.

The path through the woods to the train station and train cars.

The weather was totally gorgeous. Perfect summer day in the mountains.

On the way home, we took the scenic Route 125, aka the Middlebury Gap Road, through the Green Mountain National Forest to get back to the interstate. It was beautiful and cool and green, and even a city girl like me would love to spend some more time in the little village of Ripton. Next summer!

We even found the perfect farmhouse in a valley for my parents - it had this barn out back with a yard full of old antique trucks! Vermont is calling you...

Tu(n)esday

Shovels and Rope are coming out with their new album, Swimmin' Time, on August 26th. We already have our copy pre-ordered, so you're slackin'! Be sure to go over to NPR and listen to the album for free so that at least you know what you're missing.



Cary Ann Hearst! *swoon* I love her.

Tu(n)esday

HEARTBREAKING
"High Road" off of John Fullbright's new album, Songs:



FUN
"I Know It's Wrong (But That's Alright)" from Hurray for the Riff Raff's recent album Small Town Heroes:



PRETTY
"Are You Behind the Shining Star?" from Trampled by Turtles' upcoming album Wild Animals, due out July 15th.



Buy 'em all! Worth every penny, I promise.

Tu(n)esday

I was working on a post about a bunch of exciting albums that are coming out soon, but then I found out about this new Queens of the Stone Age video for "Smooth Sailing," my favorite song off their Like Clockwork album. I'm just gonna bump it up to the top. Yeah.



OK, so back to what I was saying about new albums...

I'm sure you can imagine the excitement over here at the Fowler household about the upcoming new Jack White album, Lazaretto, coming out June 10th. I think Mike is secretly checking the mailbox for it everyday even though he knows it won't be there. He's a member of The Vault at Third Man Records, so he'll get a huge box of goodies and a special blue vinyl copy of the record when it comes out. It's gonna be like Christmas in June for a certain special little boy Mike.



Maggie's totally fave band ever is The Secret Sisters, whose new album, Put Your Needle Down, comes out April 15th. She's so obsessed with them that we have had to insist that she choose SOMETHING ELSE, ANYTHING ELSE when it's her turn to pick the music in the car, because as much we love their last album, we can't listen to it EVERY SINGLE TIME for four solid years.

Here's Maggie's favorite song (a Hank Williams cover, she does have good taste) off the last album, The Secret Sisters -- "My hair is still curly and my eyes are still blue, why don't you love me like you used to do?"



Here's a video for a single off the new album:



And, finally, I'm looking forward to the new Felice Brothers album on June 17th, Favorite Waitress. Here's a preview they made:



This article in Esquire, an interview with James Felice, includes audio of a new song off the album called "Cherry Licorice."

Looks like we'll have plenty of good stuff to listen to on our big roadtrip to visit friends and family in the Midwest this summer! Can't wait.

A Bunch of Random Shiny Objects

Y'all know about Bitter Southerner, right?! If you aren't reading it every Tuesday when the new articles come out, I just don't know how yer livin'.

As it says right at the top of their website: One Great Story from the South Every Week. We're here for a reason: to shed light on what it means to be a Southerner. Not what it meant to be a Southerner 20 years ago, and certainly not what it meant 120 years ago. Instead, let's talk about what it means to be a Southerner today.

The stories are kind of random, but often wonderful. Food, music, literature, culture, geography, photography, the ghosts that all Southerners seem to carry around with them. They have a little of everything. Here's one of my favorites, "From a Distance," about leaving home and "the old Southern duality thing."

This week's post, "Acadian Azaleas, 1979," is about photographer Rick Oliver who traveled around Bayou Lafourche in the Spring of 1979 taking polaroids of Cajun people with their flowering azalea bushes. If you go to the BS Facebook page, you can look at all the reader-submitted photos they've collected in the last couple of days of people posing (usually in their Easter clothes) in front of azaleas. I love it, even though I have to say my folks are more like crepe myrtle people.

It gives me the Bourbon and Branch Water Blues.

***

 

One small quibble is that Bitter Southerner is mostly focused on the Deep South, and I'm a little Fringe South. So another website that has great stories that are specifically about Oklahoma is the alternative, Tulsa-based, online news magazine This Land Press. Here's an example of a very Okie-centric article that I particularly loved about the TV show Mazeppa Pompazoidi, which I have never seen, but know about through my parents. If you've ever wondered who let Gary Busey on the TV in the first place, you'll want to read it! I also learned about this website, WhatWasThere, from This Land Press. WhatWasThere has searchable maps with user-uploaded old photos that show what a place looked like in the past. I can spend hours there!! Don't look at it! Oh no.

 

***

Here's another great link from my dear friend, Val, who knows me like I know the back of my hand. (Or should I say she can read me like a book?!?! Oh, see what I did there? Well, you will in a second...) It's a company called Litographs that sells t-shirts, bags, and prints of images made out of the text of the classic books they represent. They are tremendously cool shirts, AND it's a local business for me as it's based out of Cambridge, MA.

So, should I get The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie

or The Great Gatsby?

I also love the Leaves of Grass design - perhaps for a tote bag?

 

***

 

Finally, are you listening to Parker Millsap yet? What are you waiting for? You're seriously missing out. Go here and watch this video of him singing "Quite Contrary" on a rooftop in New York City. You'll thank me.

 

Have a lovely Wednesday, you fine people.

Tu(n)esday

Come with me and follow a little trail of breadcrumbs through the forest of my mind, children...

Last summer, I watched most of the Newport Folk Festival streaming online from NPR's website, primarily because I wanted to see Beck, Old Crow Medicine Show, JD McPherson, Andrew Bird, The Felice Brothers, Justin Townes Earl, and actually a whole bunch of other people, too. It was an amazing year for the festival that I was sad to have missed in person.

But I did happen to also catch the set by Shovels and Rope, and had my socks knocked completely off by their great songs and incredible stage presence. I did not realize that I had totally missed out on the set by Hurray for the Riff Raff from the same concert. However, the couple from S&R had covered a HFTRR song that day and are friends of theirs and have mentioned them fairly often since, so I eventually found my way over to them, too. And from THERE, I've now landed on The Deslondes, who are friends of and record with the folks from Hurray for the Riff Raff (Remember this video for "St. Roch Blues" that I already posted? It has members of both bands in it).

Are you keeping up with me here? Do you need to sit down and rest for a minute? Push on, push on, friends, we're getting the part where you can sit and watch some videos soon, very soon. You're doing great.

So then I recently read this article in American Songwriter about the growing country music scene in New Orleans, home of HFTRR and The Deslondes, who feature heavily in the article, so I had to get over here today and get some videos of theirs up so you can love on them, too.

SIDENOTE: I gotta admit that calling this music "country" makes me a little twitchy. They describe themselves as "country-soul, swamp-boogie." I like that much better! I suppose it IS country music, technically. Like the way tomatoes are "fruit." I just happen to have PTSD linked to the word "country" and I'm probably in denial. (Shut up.)

Here, have look and listen and make up your own mind:

Tu(n)esday

Oh, yeah.







St. Paul and the Broken Bones

Tu(n)esday

Sh-sh-sh-shot through the heart, baby/I'm gonna love you forever

Now THIS is how you do motherhood like a badass...


Brody Dalle (featuring Shirley Manson), "Meet the Foetus/Oh the Joy"

You can see the actual video here. Warning: anime, umbilical cords, aliens, heavy bass, women with children rocking out. NSFTS (Not safe for the squeamish.)

I  LOVE the punky, riot grrl final chorus:

Oh the joy
Oh, oh, oh
I'm in love.

Your mother wears combat boots.

Tu(n)esday

Parker Millsap's new album is out today. I already have it, and it's great. Buy it here or here. You can also listen to a preview of it over here.

I'd also recommend his first album, Palisade, which you can get here.



Love that gravelly voice!

Another album you should definitely check out is Hurray for the Riff Raff's, whose new album, Small Town Heroes, comes out on February 11th. You can preview it over at NPR, too.

Travelin' Music

My granddaddy had his first heart attack when I was in kindergarten. The doctors told him he had about six months to live if he didn’t change everything about his life: quit smoking, take early retirement, start exercising, and eat better. With too much good life left to lose, he did all these things and more. Coupled with the fact that in the 1980s cardiac medicine made a great leap forward and many new treatments and medicines were soon available to him, he actually lived until I was a teenager.

But his eminent death loomed in every shadowy corner of our lives like a boogie man. It shook my parents, who are both extremely close to their families. Desperate with the idea that today might be the last, my parents shaped our lives around time spent “at home,” meaning their hometown and not one of the string of places where we were living.

We trekked back and forth across the state about every other weekend from the time I was in fourth grade until I was a sophomore in high school. Sometimes when my grandfather was particularly ill, we went every weekend. And then he would bounce back as the result of some new treatment and our visits would slow to once a month or so during the calm between storms. Add in holidays and birthdays and other traditional family-get-together times, and we racked up a lot of miles.

I grew up in the car. The sound of tires on the highway is as familiar to me as my own pulse. To this day, I’m fairly certain I could make my way from Pawhuska to Okmulgee without a map – just on muscle memory, or like a homing pigeon – and it’s been more than 25 years since l lived there. I can spend days on the road before the long hours of sitting and not being able to read start to wear me out. In fact, speeding down the interstate at 75 miles an hour, headed into the unknown, lost in my own thoughts as the country whips by my window, is probably when I feel most at peace.

My brother was my companion in the backseat, but we always joked that he was asleep by the time we pulled out of the driveway. When he finally got his license at 16, my parents teased him that he didn’t know how to get anywhere because he always just woke up wherever we were going, like he’d been beamed there by Scotty. Sometimes my parents up in the front seats would get into one of their epic debates on current events or philosophy, and I would chime in if I felt brave, but mostly we listened to music.

Classic rock radio. Your FM station for the greatest hits of the ‘50s, ‘60s, and ‘70s. Doo-wop, rockabilly, the blues, Motown, swamp rock, British invasion, Laurel Canyon, funk, and singer/songwriters. The glove compartment was full of cassettes that we played until the frayed tape snapped. The Beach Boys, the Hollies, Patsy Cline, Roy Orbison, Eric Clapton, Bonnie Raitt, Paul Simon’s Graceland. We listened to Jan and Dean in a Sonic Drive-In in Bristow while we watched the classic car clubs cruise Route 66. Plus, my dad loved bluegrass and my mom had a thing for hammered dulcimers, so they compromised on a set of tapes of old time music called Shakin’ Down the Acorns that they referred to as “the Travelin’ Music.” My brother and I referred to it as Kissin’ on Your Sister and dreaded having to listen to it, but now I’d love to get my hands on a copy just for old time’s sake. And heaven help him if my dad tried to slip a side of Flatt and Scruggs past us, even if it seemed like we were all asleep! But it was a great coup for me when I was finally able to convince them to play my copy of U2’s Rattle and Hum and my dad admitted it wasn’t too bad really.

I received a valuable education in the car on those weekend migrations. I can recognize “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” by the Band from just a couple of the opening notes. I know the difference between western swing and rockabilly. I can sing the lyrics of almost any Beatles song you know. I can name that tune in less than five notes. While they had me trapped in the car, my parents passed down their love of songs and a sprawling knowledge of the American musical canon.

A strange tangle of “negotiations and love songs” (Paul Simon) shape us, make us who we are. Circumstances beyond our control, emotional reactions, the decisions of others, fear, love, death, and whatever song plays next on the radio. Sometimes we give up one thing to get another. Often when we feel that we are losing something, as it slips through our fingers we are actually gaining something else – two hours in a bubble with you and Emmylou Harris as we hurtle into the heart of America.

Mississippi and the cotton wool heat
66 a highway speaks
Of deserts dry
Of cool green valleys
Gold and silver veins
Of the shining cities

In this heartland
In this heartland soil
In this heartland
Heaven knows this is a heartland

-- "Heartland” Rattle and Hum, U2

Tu(n)esday

I was going to post this video for today's Tu(n)esday post, "St. Roch Blues" by Hurray for the Riff Raff...



But then I heard this morning that Pete Seeger died yesterday, so then I wanted to post this video instead...



Instead of resting in peace, I hope Pete continues to inspire others to work for peace with his everlasting songs.

(And I think he'd like Alynda Lee Segarra of Hurray for the Riff Raff, so I'm leaving their video up here, especially with it's rather appropriate second line footage.)

Tu(n)esday

A rather amazing number of great (primarily country/folk) musicians have come out of my home state of Oklahoma: JJ Cale, Wanda Jackson, Gene Autry, Vince Gill, The Flaming Lips, Leon Russell, Patti Page, and of course, Woody. So many greats, in fact, that I can't even list them all here.

However, because I didn't listen to a lot of pop-country music as a kid, there really weren't a ton of local acts that I followed when I lived there. We mostly had to go to Dallas to see shows, and Austin was just heating up as a premier music hub when I was in college. It's somewhat of a shame then that I'm missing out on this recent boom in amazing acts that are pouring out of Oklahoma.

One of the handful of Okies who are currently getting a lot of attention in Americana circles is John Fullbright. His second and most recent album, From the Ground Up, was just nominated for a Grammy for Best Americana Album. He's a talented lyricist, and I find the stories and places in his songs very compelling.

"Satan and St. Paul" is my favorite song off the album at the moment. It's such an Okie kind of song, full of fatalism, self-recrimination, religious paranoia, and escapist fantasies: I can relate.



"Well it took me twenty years
Just to find myself a pen
For to write down all the words
Just to scratch them out again
I could use another twenty years
To fix the last fifteen
But it never seems to work to my advantage"



He performed this song, "Jericho," at the Americana Music Awards, where he was nominated for Emerging Artist of the Year and Album of the Year.





And if you're playing along at home, you'll know that I've written here before about JD McPherson. He's just incredible. My favorite song is still "Signs and Signifiers" off his album of the same name (which I already posted last time, along with "Fire Bug" and "North Side Gal"). Here's a couple more songs:




*Ten bonus points if you can name that Oklahoma landmark!*

And rounding out the Okie triumvirate is Parker Millsap, another bluesy, Prairie Gothic voice, but coming out of a face that seems much too young and sweet to know about such dark things. His first album, Palisade, is available on iTunes, and the band is working on another record right now.

Collect all three artists' albums and have the complete set for the win!



Besides just making music that's really great that I love to sing along to in the car, these guys make me feel something... it might be... I think it's possibly... Pride. I hope they write the name of our homeplace large across the face of the music industry, just like those old greats did. You're making me proud, boys, and I'm not really quite sure what to do with that strange emotion.

Hopefully now people will stop asking me where Oklahoma is... "Isn't that somewhere near Iowa?" *Sigh*

Tu(n)esday

In honor of the one-week birthday of our new niece, Caroline Virginia, born last Tu(n)esday, November 5th, in NYC, here are a couple of great songs called "Caroline" (No, not that one. Different ones!):

Brandi Carlile, with backup vocals by... Elton John!



and Old Crow Medicine Show



Welcome to the family and the all-girl band, Sweet Caroline!

Tu(n)esday

Norah Jones and Green Day's Billie Joe Armstrong are putting out an album of Everly Brothers' cover songs. I can't tell you how much I love this! They sound amazing together.

Me and My Dad in the Grand Canyon at Sundown

I think I must’ve been about fifteen years old. The fields alongside the highway were spring green with new wheat. The sun through the window was blazing even though the chilly air outside was keeping the glass cold. It must’ve been February or March in Oklahoma. The car was growing increasingly stuffy, so my father flipped on the air conditioning, probably for the first time that season since I remember the smell of Freon filling the air. Dad had checked me out of school early, and we were headed for an orthodontist appointment in a nearby suburban town.

My memory of that afternoon is nearly photographic and enables me to recapture the exact feeling of being the young teenage girl I was then. The brilliant green wheat, the vibrant blue prairie sky, the hot sun, the cold air, the chemical smell of the air conditioner, the exact location on the old back highway we always took where the road rises up to cross the railroad track, the angst and irritability of my teenage self in the passenger seat next to my father.

We were on our way to get my braces tightened. My sweater was too warm and my head was achy. If I could have seen my own face, I’m sure I would now also have a vivid vision of my scowling eyes. I can remember the feel of my frown. There’s no doubt that I was a lovely travelling companion.

My dad reached over and punched the button for the radio. He had been listening to one of the Bob Dylan Bootleg Series tapes before I go into the car, and the middle of a song jumped out of the speakers with no introduction as Bob wheezed away between shrill harmonica screeches.

I can feel myself roll my eyes in the hugely exaggerated way that only teenage girls can. I can feel the irritation rise in my chest and burst out. I can hear my snarky voice taunting my dad about how terrible this music is and why must he torture me this way? Isn’t it bad enough that he’s dragging me to the dentist? He has to assault my ears as well?

Bob and I were having a whining contest which I initially won, but what happened next changed me.

My dad turned the stereo off. He sat beside me in silence for a moment, but I could sense him gripping the steering wheel, seething, collecting his anger and his words. I waited for the backlash. Quietly but fiercely, he told me that I disappointed him. He told me I was too smart to not be able to understand what I was listening to. He had tried and tried to tell me that this music was important to him because it had a realness to it and an old soul. It had the Truth. He said that very few people in my whole life would ever just offer me the truth straight out. Most people want to tell you what they want you to think, some version of the truth that suits their own purpose. He told me that when I came across the Truth, I needed to be able to see it for what it was. I needed to learn to accept it from whomever was there to give it to me. I had to learn to hang on to it. I had to smarten up and recognize that this music was offering me the Truth and I was refusing to hear it because the delivery wasn’t as pretty and soothing as I liked. He told me to stop acting like a silly little teenage girl; he knew I could do better than that, be better than that.

My hot anger froze into indignant silence. I sat stunned, staring straight ahead, watching the highway disappear under the hood of the car.

I will play one more thing for you, he said. It’s not really a song. You should try to actually listen to it for once, and if you still don’t like it, I won’t make you listen to any more Bob Dylan. He fast forwarded the tape until he came to the beginning of Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie. Bob’s shy speaking voice explained about being asked to write a short piece for a book about Woody and how he ended up writing five pages which he had with him and wanted to read aloud. I listened, really listened, as the words rolled out of the stereo speakers and washed over me.

The words said everything I had ever thought or ever felt. Bob spoke to me about all the things that lived inside my mind and heart. He went on for seven minutes describing life exactly as I experienced it, and I knew that these things I had thought must be true. My mind cracked. My understanding of everything shifted. I grew up in that car in that moment on that day.

It might seem silly to place so much weight on a song (or a poem) or on a change in my taste in music, but that experience of a piece of art sharpened my worldview. Today I am a fierce fan of Bob Dylan because his words describe the world in a way that I can trust.

I’m also grateful to have had the opportunity to sit next to my father, listening to music, knowing that for a moment we were both experiencing the universe in the same way, together.

And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when you’re layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it

Read the whole poem here.

Tu(n)esday

I first heard about J.D. McPherson back in the summer when he did a song with Pokey LaFarge to benefit the Oklahoma City Community Fund's tornado relief endowment. The song is "Good Old Oklahoma" by Bob Wills, and I assume McPherson was chosen to partner on it because he is from Broken Arrow.

When I was born, my parents were living in Broken Arrow, which is a suburb of Tulsa and not far from their hometown in Okmulgee County. We only lived there a few years, so I don't really consider it to be home, but when I found out that McPherson is from there, I felt a connection. He's also an OU grad, a former school teacher, and a fellow fan of '50s rockabilly and rhythm and blues - so we're practically twins. Sure.

Since then, we have seen J.D. and his band on NPR's live stream of the Newport Folk Festival and on the Americana Music Awards show. This guy is obviously on the move. If only we were going home for Christmas this year instead of Thanksgiving, I'd definitely want to catch his show at Cain's Ballroom on December 27th. Be there or be square, daddy-o.







And if you can't make it to Oklahoma, just throw on your saddle shoes and have yourself a little sock hop in the living room. This cat's the real deal.

Tu(n)esday

An oldie but a goodie... the Raconteurs with Ricky Skaggs and Ashley Monroe.

Tu(n)esday

Last week, Shovels and Rope won Emerging Artist of the Year and Song of the Year (for "Birmingham," below) at the Americana Music Awards. They are a husband and wife team who perform Americana folk-rock (or whatever you wanna call it) as a duo. I can't stop thinking about Dolly Parton when I listen to Cary Ann Hearst singing. I wish I had half her sass. She's amazing.



Sometimes Michael Trent plays guitar and drums at the same time.



Sometimes they even swap instruments completely.



Their voices blend beautifully together.



Buy their album, O' Be Joyful. You won't regret it.

So Then This Happened...

Last weekend, Mumford and Sons descended on my little hometown for one of their Gentlemen of the Road Stopover tour dates and I wasn't there. Tears!

The State Capitol Publishing Museum

Downtown Guthrie, OK

Between a great line up for the two-day GOTR concert stage (Mumfords! Alabama Shakes! Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros! Justin Townes Earl!) and a street festival that brought in local bands and some heavy-hitters like the Del McCoury Band and T-Bone Burnett, the town was expecting 40,000 people and hundreds of thousand of dollars of revenue. By all accounts so far, it was a very successful weekend for my little town on the prairie.



My mom and dad's 38th wedding anniversary was on Friday, the 6th, so they went downtown for the street festival and got to see Marcus Mumford perform with the Del McCoury Band! I think they were glad that they didn't have tickets to the GOTR concert on Saturday, though, because the temperature got up to 100˚F. Oklahoma weather is brutal.





Mumford and Sons donated $109,000 (ticket sales from the first 1,000 tickets) to the Regional Food Bank of Oklahoma.

They auctioned off a signed-by-the-Mumfords Deering banjo with the Guthrie Stopover logo on it for $5,200 to benefit a local Logan County charity, Logan Community Services.

They hung out with Grammy-winning fiddler and Guthrie resident, Byron Berline at his Double Stop Fiddle Shop.

newsok.com

And in the spirit of a festival which is meant to bring musicians and fans and small-town communities together, the show closed out with all the bands on stage together singing "With a Little Help From My Friends."



This may go down as one of the big regrets of my life. *Sigh* Rock on, Guthrie, Oklahoma.