Alice's Wanderland - Friday
Waking up the next day in an enormous puddle does put a slight damper on the day (the opportunity for puns here is endless) but although the ground was wet, the sun was shining and I was in a good mood when Allison Moorer kicked off my afternoon; although in my infinite wisdom I had mistaken her in my mind for Alison Krauss so was somewhat intrigued by Krauss’ apparent facelift when what transpired to be a completely different person took to the stage. To my delight, she covers Patti Smith’s ‘Walkin’ Barefoot’, one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite artists, so I can’t even hold her perfectly curled Tresemme-quality blonde locks against her. My three-song limit means I miss her husband Steve Earle’s appearance onstage alongside her, but I am more excited about Sharron Shannon; one familiar artist, amongst a handful of other Cambridge favourites that includes name-drops like Kate Rusby and Eliza Carthy, who always seems to make it to a stage near me at least once a festival. As always, she is undeniably likeable; shy but unable to contain her smile, and easily one of the most talented musicians I have ever seen.
From this, I hear rumours of Kate Walsh’s impromptu set by the MOJO signing tent, and head over there to photograph her set which is not amplified and as such quite intimate, with a small audience straining around her to hear what is a very lovely set. I have since checked out her album and now consider myself a devotee to her soothing and sweet love songs. After this comes one of the more unusual items that only Cambridge Folk Festival could bring us; Under One Sky, a collaboration between a list of musicians more prestigious and impressive than I could give credit to. This is the only band of the weekend that I take the time to watch fully, and their talent as professional musicians shines through as they seamlessly work through a wonderful set despite a few technical glitches. Roddy Woomble is as unexpectedly well-suited as he was as the front-man for Idlewild on Stage 2 a few years back, and each member of the collective has his or her moment in the lime-light, even Graham Coxon, probably the most universally-recognised face at the festival this weekend, merges into part of a very solid group for the largest part.
The rest of the night is spent running from one outstanding performance to another, grasping my camera. Show Of Hands are, as always, entertaining yet moving; and I can quite literally feel the audience’s excitement as Steve Earle takes to the stage, looking much more like Allen Ginsberg than the festival program would have us believe. His lyrics are intense and outspoken, like any good folk songs should be, and the audience is full of devoted fans hanging onto every word in rapt attention. Meanwhile, I have the opportunity to step from one intense atmosphere almost directly into a very different one; C J Chenier’s band bring the deep south party; complete with an enormous Hells Angel look-a-like with a washboard bib that reads ‘TEXAS GATORFEST’ and a bassist who could have walked out of Metallica; together they make up part of the Red Hot Louisiana Band, who tonight are tearing up what is probably the furthest away you could get from a Louisiana bar; but nonetheless the audience are partying much harder than you would probably expect from Cambridge, England (although the hot cider stall probably helps).