Words and photos by Bill Foster
I am certain that this will truly shock folks, but social media is full of complainers who sometimes exaggerate things. High Water Festival has some issues this year, no doubt, but day two saw improvements. The beer vendors opened on Sunday out of 50 percent of their stock, and the merchandise tent – sold out of everything – might as well not have bothered. The crowds didn’t develop until late, but when they did, they were still massive. But lines were shorter, there were five trash bins everywhere there was one the day before and the festival organizers obviously did what they could.
It’s a shame that so few folks took them in because the early shows were a prelude to what overall was the single best day of music I’ve seen at a festival in a decade. Every single act on Sunday was spectacular, and all of the artists played sets at the top of their respective capabilities. Thanks to a 45-minute wait at Lewis Barbecue, I missed Jeremie Albino. I’m sorry, but I think Jeremie might have skipped his own show for that food. By all accounts, though, I missed a great set.
I got to the venue in time for Palm Palm, who seemed awfully energetic for that early set, and they grabbed the crowd by the throat with a cover of “Vaseline” by Stone Temple Pilots and never let go. J. Roddy Walston is a hell of a front man, and his new set of songs with Palm Palm are catchy and fun. Over on the Stono Stage, it was wonderful to see a whole new crowd figure out what East Tennesseans have known for a while: Amythyst Kiah is an amazing talent. Backed by a fantastic bass player and drummer, Kiah had the crowd in the palm of her hand as she played a selection of songs from her new record “Wary + Strange” and a cover of Tori Amos’ “Sugar.” She closed with her Grammy-nominated hit “Black Myself” as the crowd sang every word.
I’d never seen Shannon and the Clams, but I loved their mixture of girl-group sounds and punk. I was not disappointed, as this was as excellent of a debut as I’ve been lucky enough to see. I thought that Shannon was the clear frontperson, but in fact she and guitarist Cody Blanchard, sharing nearly indistinguishable voices, split the vocal duties. Imagine surf guitar, Texas psychedelic punk and doo-wop all tossed in the blender, and you’ve got an idea of the Oakland quartet’s sound. Back on Stono, Mavis Staples put on what may have been the show of the day. The 82-year-old civil rights activist from Chicago had to be helped onto the stage, but once the microphone was in her hand, it was like she was 20 again. Honestly, it overwhelmed me. It’s hard to describe, but seeing how the young crowd responded to this full-of-life grandmother was the most affirming thing I’ve seen in ages. Staples opened with a cover of “Stop Children What’s That Sound,” and highlights included her own “My Country Too” and The Band’s “The Weight,” which showed off her band’s collective vocal abilities.
Jade Bird was up next on Edisto. I’d rather she had had a band in tow, as a lone girl with an acoustic guitar seems an odd choice for an evening slot. But at 24 years old, the English singer-songwriter has been performing for nearly a decade, and she had the crowd on her side from the first note. Personally charming and already featuring a small arsenal of hits, Bird had the crowd singing along to every word. Old Crow Medicine Show was back on the main stage next. It’s hard to believe, but OCMS have been at this for over 20 years now, and they are accomplished, even with only two original members remaining in the current fold. Newcomer Mason Via (from East Tennessee) on guitar brought a welcome bit of virtuosity and onstage liveliness. They opened with “Paint This Town,” the title track from their new record, followed by “Tell It to Me” and “Alabama High Test.” Someone near me remarked that it was the “Dollywood version” of OCMS, and that’s a fair criticism. Still, by the time they closed with an unexpected cover of “Rock and Roll All Nite,” I was pretty satisfied.
Sharon Van Etten was next. I must confess that I am unfamiliar with her, but she blew me away. She is an intense performer who acts out her songs. At times, looking through a 600 mm, I felt scared and wanted to shout, “I’m not the dude you wrote the song about!” With a contralto voice that can soar or lower to a growl and a noisy yet sharp backing band, she reminded me a lot of Nick Cave, and I look forward to exploring her catalog. (Editor’s note: I have known Bill for roughly 13 years and have been telling him to give her a listen for at least 10 of those.)
Black Pumas have been getting bigger and bigger since playing small rooms and bars like Barley’s in 2019. On this night, lead singer Eric Burton leaped onto the speakers and thrashed on the floor during the first song, and he only got more active from there. This was a set for the ages, as the Pumas refused to let the crowd calm down for a moment. Highlights included “Ain’t No Love in the Heart of the City,” “Black Moon Rising” and, of course, “Colors.”
Normally, Shovels & Rope sit in on several sets or lead a jam, but they were curiously absent until their evening set on Edisto, closing the proceedings at that stage. It’s charming how, as the band grows, they refuse to compromise their aesthetic by adding members or extravagant stage sets. They still perform every show as a duo, mostly looking into each other’s eyes as they switch instruments and vocals.
Finally, back on Stono, Jack White took the stage to a recording of “Kick Out the Jams” and proceeded to do just that. Opening with a trio of songs from his new album “Fear the Dawn,” his music was complicated, aggressive, loud and deeply, deeply weird. After the opening trifecta, White played the White Stripes’ “Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground,” and after that it was crowd-pleaser after crowd-pleaser with the occasional bit of loud strangeness interspersed. Every song had a guitar solo, and every song was loud, raw and fierce. Highlights were “We’re Going to Be Friends,” “The Hardest Button to Button” and “Carolina Drama.” The encore featured a plethora of Stripes songs, including “Fell in Love With a Girl,” “I’m Slowly Turing Into You” and epic versions of “Ball and Biscuit,” “Catch Hell Blues” and “Seven Nation Army.”
It was a long yet satisfying day. Hopefully, the festival organizers will expand the space a little next year or sell fewer tickets and the vendors will be better prepared. A little bit of the small-town charm is gone, but High Water remains one of the best festivals in the country.
