Ramblin' Jack Elliot

(Writer’s Disclaimer: There’s not much journalistic integrity in writing a story in a “Gonzo” fashion—or writing myself and a Pulse photographer into this story that’s supposed to be completely objective—but in the case of the third annual Muddy Roots Festival held in Cookeville, Tenn., Aug. 31 through Sept. 2, it cannot be helped. There was too much going on for the two of us—together and separately—be it crazy women, close fights, rambunctious coverage of the performers (be they on stage or in the campsites), and at one point, a slip-and-slide that one could shoot a shotgun in the right direction for propulsion. Most of us had banjos, fiddles and any other instruments that could be tucked beneath an arm or carried on the back just to play until the wee hours of the morning, with pissed but uncomplaining neighbors around our campsite. As great as last year’s time was, this year matched it, if not surpassing it altogether.

Between pulling off Interstate 40 about an hour and a half east of Murfreesboro into the town that harbors Tennessee Tech University, photographer Jonathon Wesenberg and I spent most of our driving time reminiscing last year’s Muddy Roots Festival route figuring our way back into a gulch that, this year, would carry on the festival’s tradition of “Keeping Country Music Alive,” while festival organizer and Smyrna screen-printer Jason Galaz supplied an even bigger headliner series including Reverend Horton Heat, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott and Dr. Ralph Stanley, to just name a few.

Turning into the hilltop entrance of June Bug Road, coasting down into June Bug valley, there was an opening in the top of the trees, giving us a clear view of a Civil War general’s tent; but instead of there being a Civil War general, there was 2-time Latin Grammy-nominated musical engineer JC Monterrosa, (we befriended him as neighbors during 2011 Muddy Roots Festival) and after a couple of libations to celebrate setting up shop again, we made our way down to vendors’ row between two of the main tents holding the likes of Muddy Roots opening band Murfreesboro’s Hardin Draw at 4 p.m., Filthy Still at 3:30 and Lone Wolf OMB at 4:30 on Stage 2, and after that, all Mud broke loose as the festival’s personality began to take shape, and then literally a day and a half into the festival when it began to rain.

But before the rain came, Don Maddox, in all of his fiddle glory, and incredibly tight backing band played throughout the valley that first day. Once he finished, migratory patterns were documented as everyone walked over a quarter of a mile to the second stage—or tent—to take a see at Hooten Hollers before it was time to stock up on booze, see Little Jimmy Dickens, Dale Watson, and a Muddy Roots staple, Wayne Hancock, on the main stage for a great country block opening night.

Afterwards, the night went to hell.

Following on Stage 2 was the first of two burlesque shows that weekend which included fantasies such as a half-naked mid-twenties woman publicly bathing in a washtub as well as the lead madame performing with nothing but a chair, pasties, and a studded paddle that ended up reddening her tuckus to the howls and cat-calls of the crowd.

A couple of performances following Bianca 13’s House of the Rising Sun Burlesque, Jayke Orvis and The Broken Band took stage as a choppy bluegrass group with Orvis playing mandolin, fiddlist Liz Sloan, and an emaciated banjoist with a fish hook tattooed beneath his eyes, Joe Perezz, that personally spawned jealousy from myself because he plays a meaner claw-hammer banjo than I do.

The Legendary Shack Shakers, scheduled to headline Stage 1, Sunday the 2^nd, ended up playing Stage 2—the big white tent—that night, instrumentally bluesy in all aspects with an incredible standup bass and drum set while lead singer J.D. Wilkes wailed a harp into a handheld microphone perfecting the art of weird, skinny and shirtless contortionism the way circus sideshow acts perform seemingly dislocating their shoulder blades, yet better.

The night went blurry afterwards. This was the first year the festival vendors openly sold mason jars full of what they called corn shine with a variety of fruits stuffed into every jar.

Anyways, the best alarm clock isn’t just the sunshine peeking through an open tent atop a hill next to an old-fashioned beige Civil War canvas tent, but the lineup starting an hour before noon the next day beginning with Nashville’s Slim Chance & The Can’t Hardly Playboys and Wesenberg pushing pickled eggs out of a gator meat vendor. I have no idea how he found the stand or even got a job for an hour or so, but the man’s resourceful when it comes to exotic meats and pickled stuff.

Joe Buck Yourself

Joe Buck Yourself played later that night at 7:30 p.m. after another day’s worth of some great country music between the two stages and was followed by The Goddamn Gallows at 8:30, who was held together by Jayke Orvis on mandolin, bassist Fish Gutzzz and, once again, banjoist Joe Perezz, who I will not forgive for playing a better claw-hammer than myself. Hellbilly Casino and headliners Reverend Horton Heat did their unmentionables soon after, with highlights of the Heat being Mr. Heath standing on top of Paul Simmons’ bass drum soloing the beautiful custom-made Gretsch Reverend the guitar company makes for him.

After spent and slowly walking towards camp with a few folks, there was the following Sunday morning and the rain started coming down.

In the morning and afternoon, a church service was held followed by bands Rachel Brooke as well as Camptown Ladies playing on both stages while we were waking up and heading towards the bar on top of June Bug Ranch, Scooter’s, to have some delicious bar quesadillas  and a sip of some hair until four hipster folks—definitely not Southern—walked into the bar right after us.

“Hey, Bro, do you have me?” I asked in a goofy manner.

Walking up to them, beer in hand, cigarette in mouth, to hunker over these people that just walked peacefully in the bar during the daylight, I said, “Listen, I’ll buy all four of you a beer” (which I did), followed by the statement, “then I’m gonna take all four of you out front and beat your asses,” while my index knuckle pointed into the bar table. Then both Wesenberg and I walked outside next to golf carts parked at the edge of the building. Two other hipster folk were already posted outside smoking a cigarette while the four threatened followed us out eventually. The two outside passed the cigarette between themselves and all was well among the eight of us as we laughed, introduced ourselves formally and grew to be friends during the time we shared on top of June Bug Ranch.

O'Death did indeed make it out of the bar safe and sound

Those people threatened and smoking were New York’s O’Death, scheduled to perform later that night but not before Ramblin’ Jack Elliott dropped onlookers’ jaws and serenaded us with Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice” among other tracks from his newest album as well as old favorites the crowd eagerly sang along to. When meeting him at his van parked behind the stage out of the rain’s way, I accidentally called the American staple “Bro” during an interview where he spoke about Woody Guthrie in a mumble.

Banjoist Dr. Ralph Stanley, who has a performance coming up at the Cumberland Cavern’s Bluegrass Underground on Oct. 27, played afterwards and the man’s fingers were on fire, as usual.

New York’s O’Death’s set came right after that as they nailed it the same way they did during their 2011 performance in Cookeville, except I didn’t get to tune their banjo mid show this year. (These guys play hard and break strings.)

Bedtime came around once again in the wee hours of the morning as the final trek up that monstrous hill was conquered as both Wesenberg and I turned, bowed in appreciation overlooking the setup the fine organizers of the festival provided again this third annual Muddy Roots Music Festival 2012, and crashed hard with the flaps open on both our tents, waking up in pools of water and myself coming home feverish.

Details of the 2013 Muddy Roots Festival in Cookeville, along with the newly added yearly event Muddy Root Europe, played in Belgium, can be found at muddyrootsmusic.com. Ticket prices, news updates and eventually the line up for next year are there as well.

So get out there and keep country music alive. It’s well worth the time doing so, especially if it’s around a mass of like-minded fans with mud caked as far up on their bodies as you have on yours.

1 2 3 ►