The Treefort Journal, Part One

Over spring break, I attended Boise's Treefort Music Fest for the first time. Since its inception in 2012, I have either been busy with theater productions or out of town. My husband, Dan, and I decided this would be the year . . . before we totally lost our "cool" factor.

Actually, I don't know that I ever had much of a "cool" factor but maybe staying out all night listening to indie bands upped my street cred a little.

Lucky for you, I am sharing these "Insights from a Not-So-Hip, Late Thirty-Something Elementary Music Teacher."

3/24/15 (The Night Before)
The band descriptions on the Treefort website reference My Bloody Valentine and Dinosaur Jr. a lot, which bodes well for us Gen Xers.

How does this thirty-something survive a five-day rock 'n roll festival? Tagamet, vitamins, Excedrin, and earplugs.

3/25/15 (Wednesday)

The first concerts are held at our church. Dan and I sit closer to the front than we have ever sat in any church. Different perspective.

"Whoa, they're older than us," I remark as we pull into a parking spot and a middle-aged couple walks in front of us, "and they're wearing bracelets."

"Take a picture," Dan says.

(SIDE NOTE: It turned out, this was not an anomaly. There were a lot of people older than us at the festival. Thank goodness.)

ARTISTS WE SAW:
Tom Brosseau: A few days earlier, he had performed on NPR's All Songs Considered.

Alynda Lee Segarra (also of Hurray for the Riff Raff)

Josh Ritter: Great storyteller and lyricist. I even saw some tears during "Idaho."

Josh Ritter

3/26/15 (Thursday)

Dan and I take this opportunity to be tourists in our own city.

We attend Storyfort. We learn about historic buildings in downtown Boise, and we listen to a panel of local musicians discuss Boise's rock scene.

We attend the film festival and watch experimental films in a tent, sitting on old-fashioned church pews.

The "Lineometer" app tracks the length of lines outside the various venues and says clever things like, "sea of humanity," "is one person a line?" and "the entire population of Boise."

ARTISTS WE SAW:
Cotillon: "It finally feels like a music festival," Dan says, but we only catch the end of the set because I had to eat dinner before five hours of bands.

Hillfolk Noir: Complete with an upright bass, a washboard, and a saw. I go by myself to this one while Dan watches Strange Wilds ("definitely influenced by Nirvana," he says later). But, being the typical bar audience, the concert-goers at the Knitting Factory do more socializing than music-appreciating.

Francisco the Man: Muted vocals, driving rhythms

Baby Ghosts: Self-deprecating, fun pop punk

Cymbals Eat Guitars: Slow burn, cacophony of sound

I love it when tall people stand in front of me, then play on their phones throughout the entire concert because . . . well . . . five-foot-two here.

Also, I get ID'ed several times that night. Dan doesn't. I'm wearing like one thousand wristbands by the end of the evening. I'm told by some girl at the Linen Building that I'm "super short" and that she feels bad about standing in front of me. I think she's kind of drunk because I'm not that short, just five-foot-two (and a half).

STILL TO COME NEXT WEEK: "The Treefort Journal, Part Two," in which I will continue to share my not-so-hip, late-thirty-something insights from the crazy, busy Treefort weekend.

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