Beale Street Music Festival
Memphis in May International Festival
Tom Lee Park
April 29-May 1, 2016
"The Mississippi Delta begins in the lobby of The Peabody Hotel and ends on Catfish Row in Vicksburg. The Peabody is the Paris Ritz, the Cairo Shepheard, the London Savoy of this section. If you stand near its fountain in the middle of the lobby... ultimately you will see everybody who is anybody in the Delta..."
Author/Historian David Cohn, 1935.
My 21st Century corollary to this adage, expanding on a theme introduced in a review of the 13th Annual Clarksdale Juke Joint Festival
might be more specifically stated:
"The Mississippi River Delta exists in the fertile triangle whose base is formed by the line passing from Jackson through Vicksburg, Mississippi, west to East Monroe, Louisiana and each side leading to the apex in the Peabody Hotel bar, where the gin is dry and whistles are wet..."
No matter what, Memphis, Tennessee always puts its muddy shoes under the bed of the Belly of the Sun.
The 2016 Beale Street Music Festival (BSMF) kicked off the month-long celebration of the 40th Annual Memphis in May International Festival. With humble beginnings, the BSMF was inaugurated in 1977 at the corner of Beale and Third Streets, in downtown Memphis. In 1978, the Festival officially joined the Memphis in May, which added the World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest, a Sunset Symphony, a sporting firework display, and a spectacular grand finale featuring the "1812 Overture," which became an event mainstay (as it since has at Little Rock, Arkansas' annual Riverfest).
Attendance at the BSMF has steadily grown throughout the festival's history. In 1990, bursting at the seams with more acts, sponsors and attendees than one street corner could handle, the festival moved to Tom Lee Park, on the banks of the Mississippi River, and by 1995, the weekend event exceeded 50,000 attendees, doubling that by 1997, and nearly tripling it in 2001, with crowds of 165,000 selling out the festival. The BSMF now ranks (as well as often shares acts with) the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival (whose second weekend coincided with this year's BSMF) as a premiere music festival in the Mid-South. Insert here the requisite passage addressing God's hellish sense-of-humor disguised as Mid-South weather
. But scheduled so early in spring and with Mother Nature the fickle and vindictive mistress she is, the weather is often as potent a force as the music and the 2016 edition of the festival erred on the side of thunderstorms and acres of rich delta mud. The positive thing is that it rained little while the music was playing, leaving the mud, and the unavoidable comparison to Woodstock, on the mostly prepared boots of experienced festival goers (those in white Nikes and sandals, not so much). Nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, can beat Memphis, on the bank of the Mississippi, on a sunny day, wet or not.
The BSMF featured over 66 musical acts: from Neil Young to Beck, from Weezer to Daniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats, from Paul Simon to Grace Potter. It was an embarrassment of musical riches too great for any single person to fully ingest. That said, I will address only those artists I saw, framed by their most recent recordings (or whichever one I choose, in some cases). Here they are in roughly the order in which I saw them and I have included set lists where available:
John MayallJazz-Blues Fusion
Having just left the Pearl River Resort Blues Tent after having seen a spirited performance by Chicago singer Charles Wilson, I wandered over to the ever-present Bud Light Stage to catch Lucinda Williams, and then, Los Lobos. My wife and I sat down and made some new friends, when a lightly English-accented voice announced, ..."and now one from 1969, 'Room to Move.'" Originally, Jonny Lang was to perform, but cancelled due to inclement weather. What I thought I was hearing was some well-meaning blues cover act that was going to play John Mayall. Then, the music started and it was not that at all, but Mayall himself, in all of his 82-year old glory, playing what had become, in my estimation, his signature song. Flummoxed as I was, I exclaimed, "it's John Mayall," after which every Millennial within hearing distance asked, "Who?"