Harvest of Hope Fest, Day One

Going into the second annual Harvest of Hope Fest, the biggest story wasn't about what band would make the biggest splash, how the turnout would be, or whether or not the numerous tents selling henna tattoos would end up feuding amongst themselves. Rather, the interest shifted to the uncontrollable, specifically the weather. Typically, March and April are Florida's driest months but the past couple of weeks have been anything but typical. It's rained, a lot. And despite the presence of an important outdoor festival championing an equally important cause, the rain gods smote the tiny farm town of Elkton and its fairgrounds with torrential downpours typically seen on any given summer afternoon here in the Sunshine State. And where rain once fell, mud appeared, and lots of it, becoming a serious problem for anyone who lacked the foresight to don rain boots to the grounds on Friday. Yours truly was among the bootless.

Alas, we trudged on, trying hard to not stay in one place for too long, lest the mud entrench us in a quicksand-esque fashion. There was actually ample time to kill before any bands of interest began their sets, so what better way to wait than by watching some of the early acts attempt to win over new fans? Our first find was New York City's The Dig at Stage 3, a young quartet that seemed to possess a brand of swagger only acquired by cutting one's teeth on second-hand Rolling Stones records. They were good, but not great; like many bands of that age, they'll need more time to find their own sound, which will make their songs better. I see the potential, though.

Shortly after, we navigated the mud trails as best we could to get to Stage 4 in time to blow our eardrums to the punishing sounds of Gainesville, FL's Cutman. After the set, I tweeted that it was the first time I'd ever seen the band live and been able to actually hear the vocals, so perhaps they weren't quite as loud. Still though, the band brought it harder than most would be able to with such an early set time.

There has been plenty of hype surrounding Cymbals Eat Guitars for weeks now (including on this very website) and it was evident once I hit the extremely crowded photo pit in front of Stage 1 (hardly complaining, though). The band seemed to feed off the attention, as frontman Joseph D'Agostino showcased a lot of energy and some impressive guitar work as the rest of the band unconventionially rocked behind him.

CEG's set would be our lone trip to either of the main stages for the day, as we elected to split time under the cozy, muddy tents of Stages 3 and 4. Shellshag played a very fun set at the latter, seemingly winning over quite a few folks who may have drifted in out of boredom. Duos can be a hard sell to a lot of people (Where's the bass? Where's the second guitar? Where's the cymbals?) but these two pulled it off by exerting plenty of energy, dolling out a fair amount of witty banter and ending their set in a rousing fashion by first moving the drums from the stage to the mud, then hopping back onto the stage to execute an overly dramatic, synchronized powering off of the amps. Good times.

Tubers were next on Stage 4, one of the only true 'hometown' bands taking part in Harvest of Hope Fest. Their new record for No Idea, Anachronous, is a solid enough slab of angular, Fugazi-influenced post-hardcore, but the band ended up being several times better live than on record, which is always a fun surprise.

We then headed back to Stage 3 hoping to secure a decent spot for We Are The Union's set, but there ended up being far more kids there than I'd anticipated. We stood off to the side near stage left as the band tore through older tracks like "We're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat" from 2007's Who We Are and newer cuts like "One Million Motors," a track from the band's upcoming debut for Paper and Plastick, Great Leaps Forward. Lots of crowd surfing and moshing were happening, and according to frontman Reed Wolcott a friend in front was punched by a security guard. I didn't see what happened, but I know that punching people is never cool under any circumstances, unless you're Tim Barry.

After a brief dinner break (not a band), it was back to Stage 3 to close out the evening with an impressive five-band lineup that, on paper, rivals any other lineup this weekend. First, Gainesville's Anchor Arms played some songs and sweated and spat toward the crowd. "Rusty Nail" and "High Noon" were definite highlights, though I wish the band could've found a saxophone player to perform live with them.

Nashville, TN's Blacklist Royals were next, and though much of their set was culled from the band's upcoming Paper and Plastick debut Semper Liberi, the sizable crowd enjoyed the punk 'n' roll all the same. Also, they win the Friday award for Best Dressed Band. Very dapper.

How Dare You took the stage soon after, and the barricade began to shiver a bit (more on this later). The dudes, who have at least six new songs ready to be recorded -- they'll be entering the studio soon to record their sophomore full-length -- chose to fill their set with old favorites from 2008's Comfort Road, along with "Still Young" from their recent split 7" with The Knockdown. The crowd, ravenous for some interaction, hardly seemed to mind as there were fist pumps and sing-alongs aplenty for "Eat at Charlie's," "Week of Heart Attacks" and set closer "Beacon St."

The crowd under Stage 3 was swelling as Dear Landlord set up their instruments. I decided to enter the photo pit a few minutes before they began playing to get a good spot and frame some shots, and it literally almost cost me my legs. The moment the band took the stage and burst into "Park Bench," (I think; that part's a little blurry now), the metal barricade that separated the stage from the crowd collapsed under the pressure of a couple hundred kids going apeshit (which tends to come at a cost of self-awareness). The barricade, along with the weight of said kids, was putting enormous pressure on both of my legs. I screamed for help but midwestern pop-punk drowned out my cries. I was able to get the attention of a guy next to me on the other side of the barricade, and he and I were able to lift it just enough so that I could squirm onto the stage and then offstage through the back. If you were that guy and you're reading this, come find me today or tomorrow because I owe you a beer. That was, without a doubt, the most physical pain I've ever felt in my life, and I've been hit by a car while cycling. As overly dramatic as it sounds, all I could think as it was happening was, "This is it. The fest's not even one third over and I'm going to break both of my legs right here." I managed to escape with what will probably turn into a couple of oversized bruises. Very scary. Kids, get stoked all you want, but try to contain yourselves to a certain extent. No band is worth getting hurt over.

After that debacle, I needed to sit down and then, just like that, it started pouring again. The rain had largely stayed away from the time the gates opened at 3 PM until then, so we waited out the storm near the merch tables while I writhed in pain. It let up about twenty minutes later so we got out of there, a few ticks before the 11 PM curfew, dirty, muddy, bruised, and traumatized, but mostly happy. I'd avoided catastrophic injury, gotten some great photos, drank some Bärenjäger straight from the bottle with some old and new friends, and seen a lot of really great bands, all in the name of helping out the migrant farmworkers who put food on our plates every day.

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As for what I'm looking forward to Saturday, I'm mostly looking forward to no rain, but also bands like A Wilhelm Scream, Weatherbox, Dead to Me, Austin Lucas, Look Mexico, Ninja Gun, Good Luck, The Measure [SA], Lemuria, Cheap Girls, Smoke or Fire, Cobra Skulls, Leatherface and probably a few others that I won't be able to see due to time constraints.

Check back tomorrow for Saturday's dispatch, and be sure to follow the Punknews.org twitter account for up-to-the-minute updates on the goings on at Harvest of Hope Fest. Click any picture to enlarge.

The mud near the fairgrounds entrance Cutman Cymbals Eat Guitars Shellshag Tubers Anchor Arms Blacklist Royals How Dare You Dear Dearlord