Written by Ty Kellogg
I rolled into Kent from the northwest area of Columbus, hitting town about around 8:30 p.m. and running on fumes after a work trip. I parked my car and met up with a gal that I haven’t seen in years, and we proceeded to strike the town in our effort to encompass the folk festival feeling.
We walked down the street, feeling the autumn breeze float over the Cuyahoga and into our lungs. Since I graduated from Kent, the folk festival has always brought a nostalgic feeling to me. I, myself, played in the event two years in a row and helped several other musicians get involved; and, of course, I supported any fellow musician I knew was participating.
My date and I made a brief stop at the Brewhouse Pub, based upon the fact we thought the Hive Robbers (whom I had never heard of) was a cool enough name to warrant a visit. Taking many elements from folk groups The Avett Brothers and Mumford and Sons, these young guns played the expected twangy, angst-filled, minor-chord, sing-a-longs that is expected of folk acts today. The difference I saw is that they were all smiling as they played and sang, abandoning the serious songwriter stance while driving the crowd into a drunken, dancing fury. Although I would not call myself a fan, I was very happy to see a group who has as much fun playing music as I do. As we left the room, I grabbed a handful of dry popcorn for the walk down the street.
Off to Ray’s place we went, where historically Kent's own well-traveled phenoms, The Speedbumps, have played until the late hours. (Note: When attending the folk festival, please read the program guide.) As we walked up the stairs and made the dramatic turn to see who was playing, I was surprised to not see the ‘bumps lead singer Erik Uryicki singing “Potato Famine.” What we walked into was an absolutely inebriated crowd of my parent’s age, dancing and bouncing frantically to the styles of Mo’ Mojo.
I bought our first drinks and, from that point forward, we became entranced by the fiddle, saxophone and bass. The female lead vocals pierced the noise of crowd and overrode the sounds of the taps flowing Great Lakes Octoberfest to the thirsty crowd. At some point, there was a long, dizzying rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In,” in conjunction with Hank Williams “Jimbalaya.” It didn’t take long for me to start to tap my toes, shake my hips, clutch my drink tightly as I twirled my date in circles.
Hear the music
David Ullman
Hive Robbers
Mo' Mojo
When I originally agreed to cover some of the Kent State Folk Festival ‘Round Town activity, I envisioned running amuck in downtown Kent, hopping from coffee shop to coffee shop, bar to bar, shaking hands and talking music with the people who are responsible for the craft the festival celebrates. However, this didn’t happen.
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| David Ullman © Lesley.anne.k photo | design |
Our first stop was Scribbles, an independently-owned coffee shop on Water Street. Playing that evening was David Ullman, a furrow-browed, sweatin’, sad bastard of a singer-songwriter who has played the Kent-Akron-Cleveland circuit for years. To listen to Ullman, one must have an attuned ear because Ullman is a very intelligent songwriter who is willing to experiment, as shown by his use of a loop pedal and electric bass. But don’t let his shy and polite demeanor fool you; he can go from a sweet whisper to a lion-like roar in a matter of seconds.
The room was hot and steam was rising on the windows during the comfortably brisk September evening. The bodies were packed like sardines. People in chairs were sitting on each other’s laps and sitting on the floor, against the wall and behind the counter. When someone left the room, there was an instant rush to fill the seat, and then two more people would emerge to lean against the wall I leaned upon. My date and I left the room as Ullman orchestrated the crowd into his frenzied sing-a-long, “Mulletman.”
Hive Robbers drone in fury
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| Hive Robbers Source: www.reverbnation.com |
My date and I made a brief stop at the Brewhouse Pub, based upon the fact we thought the Hive Robbers (whom I had never heard of) was a cool enough name to warrant a visit. Taking many elements from folk groups The Avett Brothers and Mumford and Sons, these young guns played the expected twangy, angst-filled, minor-chord, sing-a-longs that is expected of folk acts today. The difference I saw is that they were all smiling as they played and sang, abandoning the serious songwriter stance while driving the crowd into a drunken, dancing fury. Although I would not call myself a fan, I was very happy to see a group who has as much fun playing music as I do. As we left the room, I grabbed a handful of dry popcorn for the walk down the street.
Speedbump ahead: Brake for "Mojo"
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| Mo' Mojo Source: www.momojomusic.com |
I bought our first drinks and, from that point forward, we became entranced by the fiddle, saxophone and bass. The female lead vocals pierced the noise of crowd and overrode the sounds of the taps flowing Great Lakes Octoberfest to the thirsty crowd. At some point, there was a long, dizzying rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In,” in conjunction with Hank Williams “Jimbalaya.” It didn’t take long for me to start to tap my toes, shake my hips, clutch my drink tightly as I twirled my date in circles.
This is where I remained the rest of the evening. At some point, my date and I made our way back to our vehicles. And instead of driving our separate ways, we sat on the curb, breathing in the fresh night air and enjoying the release of tension, the release of pain and the flush of joy that music brings to us. Or maybe we were just drunk and didn’t want to go home; didn’t want the night to end. It is with regret that, eventually, I made it home and went to bed. Even though the external music stopped when I fell asleep, the pulsating rhythms in my mind, my heart and soul continue to beat and keep cadence.
David Ullman
Hive Robbers
Mo' Mojo
The Speedbumps played upstairs on the roof, Ty. You were moments away... they played like a 2 hours set. Ridiculous.
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