donavon follows in the footsteps of another surfer who has hit it big on the music charts, jack johnson. in fact, jack johnson and his new record label are producing donavon's first major album due to be released this month. further, donavon (along with G Love) are opening for jack during his tour this summer.
the show itself was stellar. donavon (much like jack johnson) has a lot of mellow songs that are better suited to chilling out than jamming out, and so the crowd was a bit mellow. however, he also has some high energy tunes that were great to experience in person.
here are a couple bootlegged clips of the action:
and while donavon may share a bunch of qualities with jack johnson, he actually looks more like dickie betts and seems to carry a bit more of a rock star persona than jack.
helping the cause is the fact that the rest of the band is totally polished. all of the players (drummer, bassist, keyboardist) have distinct "looks" and carry themselves with panache.
props to the opening band, ALO (Animal Liberation Organization), as well. they've got a groovy jam band sound that, at times, is reminiscent of the disco biscuits.
on the whole, a sweet night out on the town...
and as an added bonus, robert randolph (in town for the kfog kaboom) sat in with the crew and ripped on the pedeal steel guitar like nobody's business. damn, that cat has it goin' on.
caught a few clips of the action:
and, truth be known, a rookie mistake almost cost us the show. i opted not to buy in advance because the show had not sold out through day of. however, tickets went fast once the doors opened, and by the time we got there, tix were gone. we eventually got in, but we missed the opening set.
word to the wise: whenever possible, set yourself up in advance. the risk of having extra tix is no biggie when the alternative is missing the show.
off to a promising start...
navigating some rough waters...
but ultimately ending on a positive note...
a kenyan won the race in just under 35 minutes. four hours later, the tiki floats were still rolling [VIDEO CLIP].
a few of the Bojon contingent actually ran the race this year... and then we circled back, rolled in a keg and took in the madness.
we set up shop next to the model yacht pond and interacted with the crowd.
keg stands were common...
as were some funky parent/kid combinations...
gotta love the "anything goes" attitude of this event...
and the utter tolerance of the city (especially the police)...
much like last year, the SF Chronicle ran some great pictures of the race and caught a completely telling quote from a tourist. asked what he thought of the race, doug bennet from Crane, Missouri said: "I've never seen anything like it in my life. I'm a hillbilly."
asked what would happen if this event came to his hometown, bennet repsponded that there'd be throngs of people "with Bibles in their hands telling you how bad you are."
friends, can i get an AMEN to living in the city by the bay.
rumor has it that one could lose hours rating some hometown hotties. ah, the soft core that is maxim...
this just in from Saint Nicholas Beermonger, reporting on Bojon NYC's first bocce outing of the season (complete with gritty camera phone pix and all)...
Just because we have no jobs, doesn't mean we we're not working it.
87 degrees. Humidity off the charts. The mighty Hudson River beckoned us for a season-opening bocce game.
With a fast and flat artificial turf and paper-bags for the 40s, the game had a decidely urban flavor. We also had to play around the track team from a local high school and some toddler whose affinity for picking up and moving balls threatened to make it a very unusual game.
We worked around the hurdles and the game commenced forthwith:
In a 2 game to 1 squeaker, we took Round 1.
For Round 2, Nick G and Pinky teamed up and sprinted to an early lead. But Sho dug deep into his bag of shivs and stole the thunder. The Round was cut short with a wicked thunderstorm threatening... so end result, everyone left the field a winner-- which is why we love the game.
well done gents, though it must be said that bocce has no "off" season here on the west coast (agent kevles notwithstanding).
that's right, this year's jazz fest was wet, so wet that the fairgrounds themselves were closed on friday. TV news reports said this was the first day in 13 years that the entire day's shows were cancelled.
it didn't matter.
we only know one speed at jazz fest, and that's full tilt boogie. we took the rain in stride and did our thing (sort of the "we could have fun stuck in an elevator" approach).
here's a rundown of the happenings:
THURSDAY NIGHT ~ late arrival for most of the krewe this year. we all touched down in the late evening and congregated at the hotel (holiday inn express in the french quarter, of course). we then bounced out to bourbon street and reacquainted ourselves with a few hurricanes.
jah rasta made a surprise appearance, and we were off to the races. late, late night we hit a jam session that included robert walters and stanton moore. this took us to sunrise (if not to the moon).
the line between thursday night and friday morning did not exist. or perhaps it did, and that's why it didn't. hmmm.
however you slice it, friday came with a torrential downpour and threw our normal routine out of whack. we usually hit the fairgrounds early to set up shop, but one look outside told us this day would be different.
fortunately, the ever resourceful Artiste Formerly Known As Solo had us covered.
the Artiste led us on an Odyssey through the Big Easy on foot in the driving rain. no one questioned our destination or our leader. well, ok, we questioned both. but not really.
anyway, we got there: a community center auditorium where an african Zulu tribe was putting on a dance exhibition. killer. and then this was followed by the legendary South African trumpeter and jazz musician, Hugh Masekela. holy shiznit, we scored!!!
the rest of friday was spent hanging out in the french quarter and lounging around the hotel. some of the group took a bus tour; the rest of us got caught up on some sleep and/or Jerry Springer (Truck Stop Ho).
friday evening brought a stroll to a cajun restaurant called Michaul's. sweet family style spot with excellent grub and a down home attitude. exactly what we were looking for.
post-dinner, captain HazMat joined the fray, and this was just the jolt we needed.
late night took us to the F & M Club... late, late night to Tips to see Keller Williams and Spearhead. and, of course, a six pack of crystal burgers to top it off.
classic jazz fest. weather cooperated, allowing us to dial up a grand afternoon at the fairgrounds. early arrival led to some solid positioning that set us up to be in the mix all day.
awesome to be back in the thick of it. killer food, killer music, killer partying.
as always, was great to kick it with some old school banditos.
shout outs to some old friends and some new fest faces: KD, chef, fred flinstone, the jester (aka Vodoo Daddy), mel, twinks, markus, lisacurls, all our neighbors, etc.
we took in some great muscial treats all day. the line-up at the main stage included marc broussard, anders osbourne, the funky meters, and santana.
the night shows were jamming too. we caught jurassic 5 and then galactic at the state palace.
late, late night took us to bourbon street for some chess and quiet reflection. hard on the body, good for the soul.
we hit igor's on the way out of town for one last bloody, and that was all she wrote.
dearest jazz fest, always sad to say goodbye, but never too early to look forward to our next encounter...