“Hashtag festy vibes…man, I am so not a hippie,” Christopher Paul Stelling announced from the main stage at the Tweed River Music Festival in Waitsfield, Vermont. A crowd that included many of his songwriting contemporaries, and more importantly friends, chuckled at the commentary on the subject. Which brings up an important note about Tweed, while in it’s camping on site logistical nature and “if there is music until 2:30 AM, you are going to hear it” layout, Tweed is a lot different than it’s larger counterparts like Bonnaroo and even Grey Fox. There is a family vibe here. Dotted in the crowd are the faces of musicians that just graced the stage the set before, you are likely camping next to someone who is performing that weekend, and should you want to wander into the backstage area you certainly can (though bothering the artists is frowned upon). I haven’t been a big festival person aside from Newport Folk for about a decade now. My days of the A.M. ale and smoking myself silly are in my past so Tweed is a breath of fresh air…though that breath may include a bit of a skunky smell every so often (so fear not my 420 loving friends).

The wife and I departed for Vermont at around 1 PM on Friday after sneaking out of the office a bit early and were greeted by a wall of traffic before the city, after the city, before the NH border, after it…you get the point. What should have been 3 and a half hours took a bit longer, but once we got on site it was all well worth it. We got there just in time for one of our favorites, Matt Lorenz AKA The Suitcase Junket, and man he never disappoints. The fact that he is able to replicate nearly exact sounds from his record in a live setting is remarkable…because he is playing 6 different percussion instruments, singing, playing guitar, and throat singing that crazy whizzing, reverberated noise in place of guitar solos. Amazing in every sense.

Tyler James may have become my new favorite singer and guitar player all at the same time. The Silks are just a killer band in every sense. Its just good. It doesn’t need a label or a comparison, it is simply rock n’ roll music at it’s finest played by folks who genuinely love playing and that sentiment and emotion rolls off into the crowd as they play. I was really happy to catch Township as well…its been far too long since I have seen the band (though sprinkling in Pinansky’s other projects helps to hold me over). The band is classic rock badassery in a modern day suit. Dueling guitars, hair and great mustaches. Just soul for days.

The Curtis Mayflower was the last set I caught fully for the evening (sue me, I was tired from the day and could at least hear Bryan Minto’s pyschedelic harp solos from my tent…and they gave me something to focus on aside from the screaming child ten feet away). Craig Rawding’s voice and stage presence is a gift to the world of music. I was grooving pretty hard during their set. Unreal.

Sleep deprived and still on my weekday schedule I was up and about the campsite around 5:30 AM. I suppose a great part of Tweed is the fact that it is so family friendly. Many of the folks camped out in pup tents all the way up to full campers with fences set up around astro turf rugs and beer tap counter tops we filled with families just out and enjoying the sounds of music floating over the field. Granted, you caught a whiff of the ganj every so often, those who were smoking were cognizant of the family atmosphere and respectful of that fact…I could smell it but I couldn’t see it. So kudos on that front. I hit the river early for solo dip in the freezing cold water, made myself and the wife some coffee on our pocket stove and we just hung for a bit. I kind of wish there was a smaller tent with some unplugged entertainment early on…think about it Tweed Friends: Red Line Root’s early morning unplugged sessions. Lets make it happen next year: video it all and package it later? But it was nice to relax and hang in the mountain air as the festival grounds came alive.

Pat and the Hats were a good kick off to the day, but it was when Coquette took to the stage that the energy really started to fuse out into the grounds. These guys were heavy,but in a really good way. They rocked super hard, but the lead singers voice and how much the band was really, really into the music sanded the edges of the usual “hard rock” sound that I have witnessed. I loved watching these guys play. Their enthusiasm for the music, great guitar runs, and energy really woke the place up…before the rain came.

There may only be one human being on the face of the earth that could have made the best of a torrential downpour during a festival performance. Luckily that person was on stage during the torrential downpour and that person’s name is: Dan Blakeslee. What could have been a cancellation or a real downer was turned into an impromtu unplugged set by Blakeslee and his band where the crowd huddled close for cover in, around the stage as they played more than half of their set straight acoustic until the sky parted and the sun was back. Blakeslee’s energy is infectious and beautiful. I feel blessed to know his music and his art and even more blessed to consider him one of my close friends.

Smith & Weeden followed. Those boys can do no wrong in my book. Everytime I see them I fall in love with their tunes a little bit more. Ian Fitzgerald joined them for one of their tunes (Sunshine) and 3 of his, before they closed out their set. Just what we needed after the rain dampened our spirits a bit, some good old fashioned, unharnessed rock n’ roll music.

Christopher Paul Stelling brought us back to the folky side of things (but man, he rocks a gut string guitar like the most electric full band out there could). The harmonies that he and his fiancee, Julia Christgau, weave together are absolutely beautiful. Stelling invited some friends along as well with Dylan Sevey, Ellie Buckland, and Matt Murphy hopping up to fill out one of his tunes. I tell you though, as much energy and fiery passion a song like “Horse” manages to bring to the table, everytime “Scarecrow” comes over a PA or through my own headphones, I tremble a bit inside. It’s just so damn good.

Old Jack made the best of a somewhat dwindling crowd in front of the stage…for all the people that were camping, there was an offset group actually at the stage I found throughout the course of the weekend. I suppose that is people’s prerogative though and Dan Nicklin did his best to amp the crowd up with his soul singing swagger and Mick Jagger like dance moves.

Andrea Gillis may be the most rock n’ roll badass pregnant gal to ever grace a stage in the history of music. At one point she asked the crowd if they were nervous, and they shouldn’t be because she has got a while til the baby comes. Rock n’ roll people.

The lady and I decided to head off early, but not before catching one of our mutually agreed favorites, Joe Fletcher. Joe really brought the power to the stage and got people so far into his set, that they wouldn’t be heading back to their tents for a long while. In true Fletcher fashion he had a host of friends up on the stage to pay homage to his fallen best friend, Dave Lamb ad sing his song ‘Mabel Grey’ together. As always, a beautiful tribute to one of the most wonderful songwriters that we had the grace to know in this New England community.

As much as I regret leaving early and missing one of my favorite bands ever (I am looking at you Ellie, Isa and Mali) I resolved myself to catching them twice this month and then again in September at the Kendall Square lunch series. So, not all is lost…and sorry gals, I’ll make it up to you.

From what I gather through Mike Panico’s Instagram feed, it was just as special following our departure as it had been for us. I really look forward to this festival gaining steam again and running for many years to come. I was still reeling from Newport last week, seeing so many friends and reconnecting with those that live in NYC or Nashville and beyond, but the more intimate nature of Tweed and morning downtime gave us a better chance to connect. Really sit and talk with folks and catch up on lives where our phones ran out of juice already and the distractions of the outside world are gone. Whether it was hanging around a campfire sipping Heady Topper, submerging ourselves in the chilly mountain stream, or hanging in the back of a trippy painted bus, this was something special. A place where we all felt that semtiment of the family that we are in the music community we have, but often misplace due to time or distance. That, my friends, is something beautiful.

Great job Tweed friends. You all rock.