here can one begin when trying to describe a legacy? It seems simple enough in thought, until one actually has to sit down and collect one’s thoughts on a tradition as important and lasting as the Telluride Bluegrass Festival. Having come to this festival annually for the past 16 years, I should be able to easily describe Telluride. Not quite.

The truth is that for over 30 years, the Telluride Bluegrass Festival (normally held in the third weekend in June) has not only endured, but has continued to push the envelope for folk and country music. While it has gained criticism over the years from many bluegrass purists, it has also gained a countless number of followers who come back year after year to experience this unique setting of old-time music in the Rocky Mountains.

Though you might not believe it, the town of Telluride, Colo. was just that—a town, I mean—in the early ’70s. The town, while known mainly for its winter snow and skiing, was home to little more than 1,000 people in the summertime. Although tourism was not nearly as good in the summer as it was in the winter, the one event that would draw large crowds was the Fourth of July weekend. This was the biggest event held in the region and had consistently brought crowds from neighboring counties to Telluride annually since 1899.

While the time-honored tradition of the celebration continued, by 1973 promoters and locals alike began to feel the weight of enduring these mid-summer festivals, along with the toll of losing sleep from the night festivities. The scene needed a change.

But at the same time the town tried to cut the festival down from three days to one, the new element of bluegrass was introduced. The bluegrass band was known as Fall Creek, which consisted of J.B. Matteoti, Kooster McAllister, John “Picker” Herndon and the late Fred Shellman, all of whom were die-hard bluegrass buffs.

After driving out to experience another old-time bluegrass festival in Kansas that very year, the boys of Fall Creek came back to Telluride with the eager motivation to pursue a bluegrass festival of their own, right in their back yard.

Although Fall Creek remained true to the sound of the southern bluegrass, the festival was, admittedly, started in order to bring a young band by the name of New Grass Revival to Telluride's mountain stage. Its style was eclectic, because New Grass would amplify and electrify the otherwise acoustic stringed instruments of the genre. New Grass Revival agreed to play, mainly due to the unabashed optimism boasting from the band members of Fall Creek, now transformed into renegade show promoters.

After New Grass was booked, the festival and its tradition was born, and has since flourished.

This year marked the festival’s 30th anniversary. It has since grown from a one-day event for 1,000 people into a four-day party for more than 10,000 attendees, as diverse as the world is large.

For the past 30 years, these attendees have experienced some of the mightiest presences in the corresponding bluegrass, folk and country genres. Musicians including David Crosby, Bill Monroe, Taj Mahal, Leftover Salmon, Willie Nelson, James Taylor and the venerable Johnny Cash have performed to the screaming masses against the backdrop of a Rocky Mountain glacier producing a large cascade waterfall.

Friends of the Be Good Tanyas, The Waifs played at Telluride

The festival has evolved to embrace an enviro-conscious stance. This year marks the first time that the Telluride Bluegrass Festival has grasped the quality of wind power. Wind-powered technology powers the entire festival, from the artist booths to the food vendors to all the sound and lighting on and around the stage.

The festival has expanded not only to fit more musical guests and fans of the genre, but has also spread out to include performances along the streets of the now well-developed town. These performances (also known as workshops) have gathered an immense group of musicians to perform some classic “jamming” with one another, thereby building a musical bond with other peers, another time-honored tradition in folk and bluegrass.

There are artist booths that display artwork and apparel that seem quite functional to the average festival attendee, or festivarian, as some call them. There are massage booths, as well as booths that consist of landscape photos and oil and acrylic paintings. This year, there was even a metal smelting artist making designs out of stainless steel and oxidized iron. The booths provide the festival with a different side to the folk art than the music being performed.

The festival has also evolved to provide a family aspect, where kids can enjoy a petting zoo, as well as arts and crafts workshops that may appeal more to kids than listening to a mean banjo lick.

What was really interesting about this year's festival was the honoring of those recently departed folk and bluegrass musicians. Situated in both the desert path and a small tree-lined grove were pictures and names of artists and crew members who had played at Telluride and had recently passed on. Also, there was an outpouring from the musicians and fans alike to honor such fallen comrades as the godfather of bluegrass, Bill Monroe, Hot Rize's guitarist Charles Sawtelle, who lost a long fought battle with leukemia, and Leftover Salmon's lead banjo player Mark Vann. Along this memory grove there are a dozen others.

This monument was a standout because not only did it make you stop and ponder the performers’ past work, but it also established a deep and heartfelt appreciation for the continuation of the bluegrass tradition.

Day-by-day Breakdown
Thursday, June 19: As we rolled into town the day before, we carried along with us a little summer rain storm from the Intermountain West. Through the first hours of the morning, there was a little wind and a gray sky filled with holes of sky-blue and sun.

The first band to take the stage was none other than Open Road. Open Road was the bluegrass ensemble from Fort Collins, Colo. that tore the roof off the Gallivan Twilight Concert Series last year—even though there is no roof—and almost caused a downtown hillbilly riot to the tunes of plinking banjo and mandolin.

A stampede of stallions threatens to disrupt Edgar Meyer's jam session, but the music keeps on goin' at Telluride.

Though this was their first year at the festival, the band members never ceased to amaze the pumped audience of 10,000 with their pure bluegrass sound. Open Road will be touring through Salt Lake City later in the summer to headline the IAMA Founder's Title Folk and Bluegrass Festival.

Almost immediately after Open Road left the stage, the clouds began to dump rain. But even a little mother nature could not begin to phase the eager crowd of spinning, dancing and pot- smoking masses.
The standout performance of the day was Martin Sexton. If you have never heard of this guy, you should go out and at least buy one of his albums. Sexton's impossible-to imitate soulful vocals and his impressive poetry place him among the finest singer/songwriters. A cross between Van Morrison, Cat Stevens and Nick Drake, Sexton was, without a doubt, the standout performer of the entire festival.

Friday, June 20: One of the greatest aspects of the festival is the mad-dash in the morning. The festival is held on a large outdoor softball park and the stage is set up in the massive outfield. The seating requires that you plot out your piece of land with a tarp where you can lay out in the sun. Of course, claiming your piece of land is necessary. Right at the beginning of the day, the crowd of dreary-eyed festivarians, who have slept out in line in the cold, race through the gates as soon as they open. This happens every day, but this particular day was different as two women streaked across the outfield to set up their tarp. Ah yes, hippies.

The day was filled with great music, everything from afternoon performances by singer/songwriters to evening performances by jammy-fusion jazz band Bela Fleck and the Flecktones and the polyethnic Cajun slamgrass of Leftover Salmon.

The standout performance of the day was The Waifs. This year was particularly special due to the unique inclusion of Australian folk bands. The Sydney-based band was nominated (FOR WHAT?!) this past year and lost to singer/songwriter Kasey Chambers, who also performed later on that day.

The group’s style is above and beyond that of any singer/songwriter ensemble that I know, and the female sisters, Donna and Vikki Simpson, incorporate the power of Ani DiFranco and Lucinda Williams. The Waifs trumped any other band on the bill and played another great set the following day at the Fly Me To The Moon Saloon.

Saturday, June 21: This day was easily the dullest of the festival. Not much happened on stage, except for many technical difficulties, along with plenty of pot smoking and beer-swilling. It was sort of a day off from a music festival.

The standout performance of the day was Yonder Mountain String Band. The band members’ pure bluegrass style mixes nicely with their jammy approach and helps write a new chapter in modern bluegrass music. They are on tour all through the summer. Check out their Web page at www.yondermountain.com.

Sunday, June 22: The final day of festivities began with more streakers running through the outfield, this time to the tune of classical selections by Bach on bluegrass instruments. The two hour performance featured Nickel Creek’s Chris Thile on Mandolin, Edgar Meyer on bass and Bela Fleck on banjo, among others. This was definitely the best and longest day of the festival. It concluded with Sam Bush and a jam session of enormous proportions. Despite the sound and technical difficulties, the party raged on well into the wee hours of the morning.

The top show of the day was Hot Rize. Despite the untimely death of legendary flatpicker Charles Sawtelle, the ensemble reunited for this special event, with new guitar phenom Bryan Sutter. If you are looking for some great old time bluegrass, it doesn’t get any better than Hot Rize.

After 30 years, the bluegrass tradition lives on in Telluride and continues to grow and evolve with the music. When asked about where they saw the festival’s legacy 30 years from now, every artist I spoke with said the exact same thing: “I am not sure, but I hope I am alive to see it.”

Nice run, Telluride.

pete@red-mag.com