The summers are always filled with the sounds of live music everywhere here in the shadow of Woodstock.
Each year in early August, the hippies, old (who remember the festival in ’69) and new( who wish they remembered it) return for what equates to a religious experience.
Yasgurs old farm, (though not the place where the actual festival took place, but the closest thing to it that allows hippies en masse to congregate) is filled with tents, resurrected VW buses and people, young and old, just reaching back to a simpler time of hope,love, harmony, along with alot of dope and great music.
It’s hard to fight “the flow” around here. Year round “the site” has a subtle yet profound effect on the land and the people. You notice a quiet reverence from those who visit the corner of Hurd and West Settlement roads, ground zero right near where the stage then stood for a half a million people, and a plaque commemorating it now stands. Traveling these sleepy bucolic roads, it’s hard to believe this gentle field was the stage for an event that changed a nation, a culture and history forever. Hard to not get quiet and introspective. Santana put it best when he returned for the first time forty years later: “This is sacred ground”
So summer around here is simply about playing music live, lots of it; acoustic and electric, blues, rock, world and anything else you can think of. Live music is forever in the DNA of the land, so we celebrate it long, loud and sweet. The night air mingles the scent of jasmine and weed, and the sound of the crickets at night and locusts by day mix with the sound of guitars.
And I am so humbled to be part of making the sounds of summer that are part of the celebration of Woodstock. The winters are cold and hard, and there’s plenty of time for the studio then. Right now it’s about the music, the moment it happens and the people who make it. Deep in the brilliant summer nights. Live and loud.