We're still recuperating from a bludgeoning of music, so our mind's still foggy. We roughly recall one Julia Markowitz as photographer (height? weight? age? still too foggy to guess) so many thanks to her for strapping a camera around (yes, all photos copyright JM) and dragging us around by the ankle. The first thing we remember about that whirlwind of a day was this:
These folks opened the main stage, and if you've kept up with us the past six months, you'd know we adore them (and their 2011 full-length) most immensely. Without further ado, MorganEve with that short 'do:
We're honestly not trying to spam you guys with pics, but we liked this one.
last year's mayhem.
Unfortunately, their set overlapped with Alabama Shakes. They say you only get one first impression.
We'll try not to dawdle much more, so let's start wrapping it up. The gentlemen Dawes.
We almost forgot! No more pics, we promise but scroll up to that first one - yeah, the Jim James one. Now back here.
That set thundered. Those hardworking folks who bring acts to the Festival - especially NFF producer Jay Sweet - were just plain stoked to land My Morning Jacket this year. As if to celebrate the occasion, Mr. James donned a white tux (plus boutonniere - yeah, we had to look it up) and accented it with a black cape for the more blasting parts of their setlist. We were quite content to watch the weather swirl about, twisting into a space-out Pink Floyd jam-frenzy version of "Victory Dance." Miss Ala. Shakes herself took the stage - some of those rumbles from maybe above the PA system - and when fellow Monster-of-Folk Conor Oberst came aboard, there was no doubt it wouldn't hold off. It opened, and poured.
(Now stick around for part II...)