Langerado Music Festival
Words: Michael Rabinowitz
Photos: Michael Rabinowitz

Appeared:
March 9 – 11, 2007
Markham Park, Sunrise

Upon entering Markham Park I noticed the smells of patchouli, nag champa, and sensimilia in the air. As the little festival that could, organizers were smart to schedule Langerado as the first shot fired in fest season (beating out SXSW by one week). The market is still fruitful and the youngsters are still hungry for live outdoor music and 6 tapped beers. Located on the corner of Interstates 595 and I-75 (Alligator Alley), with the largest mall in North America to the East and the Everglades to the West. This is literally at the edge of civilization. Its as if park officials are saying to the hippies we want you and your money but more downwind.

On Saturday night, Michael Franti and Spearhead performed excellent intro music with the “Sesame Street” theme. Sunny days were definitely heading my way courtesy of the ever-present contact high. In college, I always fretted about weather I could “score” at a concert. Of course, success back then was always at least one joint. Now, thanks to a much lower tolerance, all I need is for someone to say the word “THC” and my eyes glaze over. Who says growing old sucks?

My Morning Jacket followed and fucking lit it up. Expecting the long languid jamming known to prior shows, like Lolla 2006, the audience thinned when the Louisville quintet stuck to the rock script recently found on their new live album, Okonokos. Applying E Street keyboards and post punk bass lines, Jim James belted out a raucous version of “The Way He Sings” and “Lay Low,” sidestepping the original Allman Brothers intentions. James had difficulty keeping composure, laughing between sets when the audience crowd-surfed a female blow up doll replete with all of its orifices plugged with glow sticks. Somewhere on the campgrounds a raver cried himself to sleep.

I headed toward the media area and, applying my finely tuned “Jewdar,” I was able to locate Mr. Matisyahu backstage. He denied me an interview for his 40-days/40 nights sized craving of Thai food. Is green chicken curry even kosher?

A quick visit to the press tent reveals the typical food (gourmet chocolate chip cookies) and shwag (key chains). But, the ultimate combo of both goes to Big Bambu chocolate flavored papers, an official sponsor of Langerado! Who needs N.O.R.M.L.?

Cat Power seemed suitably nervous for the first five or six songs of her set. This must have been the first time she’s been in South Florida since being committed to Miami’s Mt. Sinai psychiatric ward. Yet, once she delivered an empowering cover of “Satisfaction,” she settled in to a groove rolling off “Willie” and “The Greatest” with a sultriness and confidence not expected from a woman plagued with suicidal ideations. Yet, the festival circuit is not her best platform. She needs to go either: A) small, performing only at intimate theater venues, allowing the intimacy of her voice and piano to be absorbed properly; or B) go really fucking big like Joplin or Jagger and belt out numbers. Unfortunately, for Cat Power there are no in betweens. And, this probably why she got Baker Acted in the first place. Life is ironic, no?

If there is one unlikely beneficiary of the “indie” festival boom is Los Lobos. Granted they scored a #1 hit (off someone else’s song!) “La Bamba” back when, for like five minutes, Lou Diamond Phillips was considered the multiracial Richard Gere. Four years ago they were playing support at state radish fairs. Now, the soulpatches seriously consider them hip. Go figure.

Despite the hippie frivolity in the air, there are more true music fans than at Lollapalooza or Coachella or SXSW. For all the nebulous meanderings of reggae or jam rock, there is a true love from the crowds. I don’t know what these people can possibly grab onto as music appreciation but it is an unconditional love they express. And, even among the crystal shards and hemp skirts, that feeling was contagious . . . even for a guy like me who prefers his songs 3 minutes and 15 seconds at a time.