There are not a lot of sober people at the show either, if that's your gig. I had to comfort a few lost souls each night who were completely lost, not only directions-wise, but also lost in their own heads. However, there is not a harmful, vindictive or dangerous presence within the confines of the instantaneous community. Never once did I worry about possessions in my tent or at the booth. No "dominant-male-I-want-to-fight-you" attitude could be found anywhere. Instead, people of all types gathered around a fancily made up golf cart with a fluorescent green brain attached to the top, a disco ball and a globe spinning from the roof, and a stereo with a lawn-mower engine spitting out tunes. This was at 3 AM. Each morning, afternoon, and early evening show was followed by late night shows, thanks to the ingenious promoters of High Sierra. This meant that you could potentially dance to live music from Thursday-Sunday during the hours of 10AM to dawn. When are you supposed to sleep with that kind of crazy show schedule? 6-10 AM?

Now the whole point of this amazing gathering of tribes is to celebrate life through dance and music. At least it should be. I am sure there was some strange segment of the festival-goers who literally go there just to get wasted and sell crystals out of their black, foam lined cases, but in general, people come to see some superb artists and share the joy and energy transference of dancing with others. You must like extended jams if you want to thoroughly enjoy High Sierra. There were numerous improvisational moments, with the experimentations in sound sharing reaching a crescendo that seemed to collectively gain intensity as the shows began to add up. Elements of blues, funk, rock, bluegrass, jazz and hip hop created a melting pot of soul with which you could dip your dancing feet into, then color the ground with steps, jumps, twists and spins.




Highlights are difficult to distinguish between fantastic and out of this world. There was only one show that I can recall that I felt a hesitation to dance and relinquish my soul to frenetic movement, and it was felt by others in the audience and relayed the following morning. It was Ka'Nal, the totemic and soul piercing rock band with strong native influences. There were major sound check problems, and the crowd stirred restlessly for several minutes, packing the Vaudeville stage like sardines in a can. Again and again an ear-shattering screech was emitted from the front microphone, causing everyone's eyebrows to furl significantly. Finally, the band got to a point where they felt they could play, but by then there was a nervous anticipation flowing through the tented stage area. Lead singer Tzol oozed sexual egotism from every pore of his body creating an odd synchronicity with the dark bass lines and intense imagery being projected onto the tent above the band. It was not a happy go luck vibe, it was a dark and vengeful one. I had seen their first show at the Meadow stage on Thursday, and maybe it was the sunny skies and wide open feel of the venue, but I it was a fun experience, whereas this Saturday night tent show was overbearing and I was not the only one who left feeling out of sorts.




Other than the one downer Ka'Nal show, there were only bright moments to recall. Electric apricot played a low profile set in the Tulsa room on Saturday afternoon, a show that was not billed anywhere, once again the virgin had the inside track from members of the group so I was once again in the right place at the right time. Reusing the Spinal Tap concept, the producers of Electric Apricot are making a spoof "rockumentary" about a fictional jam band. Think of all the stereotypes available! Well, they filmed some footage for the eventual movie. The only problem with this project attempting to be a roast on the concept of a jam band is that their music was so damn good! Les Claypool moonlighted in a wig and beard as the eccentric drummer and singer for the band, while John Korty of the ultimate dance groove band Vinyl played his Hammond organ. They had the incense burning and the crowd "noodling" like a good jam band should.

part 2 of 3

ER Harris