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Were it not for emails from people involved in it expecting me there, I might not have attended this year's LiFest, Wisconsin's largest Christian music festival. But is it truly "America's most diverse" event of its kind, per its own description? Decide for yourself as I break down my LiFest experience for you by sharing my concert notes. In the interest making the most of my LiFest experience, I  tried to stick to acts I hadn't seen before. And in the interest of preventing sleep deprivation, I tried not to stay too late. 

Thursday July 7th

 Got there really early. Talked to charming collegiate media room intern Rebecca. Met up with press friend Ken of online magazine Alpha-Omerga News. Come 5 PM, it was time to start catching some music.

Wanted to see poppy Minnesotan Peter Eide (say "I'd"). Enjoyed his Christmas album that I reviewed for another magazine. No go, as sonicflooD soundchecked a long while. Sorry, Peter. 

Caught a bit of R&B girlies Out Of Eden, including the temporary (?) replacement for the eldest of the three Kimmey sisters. Singing to tracks? No thanks.

A big yes, however, to former Five Iron Frenzy frontman Reese Roper getting musically heavy and rhetorically ironic in roughly equal measure. Both qualities merged on a cover of Guns'n'Roses' "Welcome To The Jungle." No backing tracks! In the media room, he mentioned how his poetry book's publication has been on permanent hold since 9/11/01. 

No one act here bored me more than fresh-faced, blond married acoustic guitar-toting Monk & Neagle. The epitome of everything banal on adult contemporary Christian radio? Sure.

Wanted to see Yexus 24:7, as 1)the LiFest schedule called them hip-hop, and 2)they looked to be all Asian-American. Another late soundcheck. Ach! Passed by later and heard them singing  "More Love, More Power." 'Bye.

Would have seen much buzzed-over general market crossovers The Afters, but heard them assay The Buggles' "Video Killed The Radio Star" walking by the building they played. That killed that desire.

Enjoyed hanging with The Afters' label benefactors, MercyMe, in the media room, but decided that I'd rather see them indoors. Their radio singles are generally irresistible, but I wanted to resist a thick outdoor crowd, too.

Children 18:3 looked promisingly goth at their merch' booth. Thinking that everything was running late, missed them. Instead caught Second Adam. Was vibing to their Black Crowes-meets-White Stripes bluesy punk minimalism...until they stiffly whipped into Jimmy Eat World's "The Middle." Toodles.

I have seen Rebecca St. James already, but couldn't help but note the irony of her press room wardrobe. She knows that "Rock & Roll," in white on her black tank top, was a euphemism for what she warns her listeners not to do before marriage before it named a music, right?

Regret: :not staying to see folkie Bob Bennett. Word next day was sadly that attendance of his acoustic gig was inversely proportionate to his talent. 
 
Friday, July 8

Attending a funeral at my church, and staying for lunch, kept me from two acts I itched to see:folk-pop rapper, Mat Kearney, and acoustic Americana lasses Alathea, both of whose debut albums I enjoyed oodles. Some time soon (fingers crossed).

Mute Math gave the impression of wanting to be the offspring of Radiohead and the Mars Volta as crossbred by The Police. I.e., proggy, post-punky, with a reggae-informed rhythmic sensibility. Delightfully close, but not quite there.

Broke my "new acts only" vow to see John Reuben, if only to hear how he'd handle "Nuissance" without Reliant K's Matt Theissen. Missed that, but heard him lead his overflow crowd in nonsense chanting preceded by his encouragement to "sing along like it's a Dashboard Confessional concert." Good line. The la-la'ing went on a bit. He had a band with him, though.

So did ZOEgirl. Saw the vocal threesome from the side of the stage with Ken and a couple of our female radio peers. The Z-gals' Kelly Clarkson-meets-Pat Benatar pop-rock sounded much like their recorded work. Though a scant seven song set, I didn't even see it all, as my hayfever/allergies/whatever was acting up something fierce. 

Saturday, July 9

The day started discouragingly with Milwaukean hip-hoppers X-Large, listed in the schedule as hip-hop. Really, they're a small choir with couple of middling rappers. Though I've heard similar configurations work, it didn't here. Excepting local radio semi-hit "No One Can Do You Like Jesus Can" they are catchy, like the flu.

The Showdown provided possibly the weekend's only fresh metal. An amalgamation of thrash, doom/stoner and power metal influences had me wishing I'd seen more. That's my plan, should they ever get back here.

I heard Big Daddy Weave answer passersby's questions at the remote broadcast booth of one of the participating radio stations. Why would anyone ask about Big Daddy Weaver's blue-striped shirt?

The Lisa Weyerhauser Band's set in the Gloria Jean's Coffee tent (java sold in back) might have killed softly in the environs of an actual coffeehouse. It just had me wondering when Bonnie Raitt's going to release another good album. 

Ah, Krystal Meyers. She of the Avril Lavigne-isms truly rocked. Not that her under-amped, turquoise, hollow-body guitar abetted it. Per word from one of her bandmates, she was, in fact, playing said guitar. I look forward to Meyers emerging from Lavigne's shadow.

Ooh, Apollo! Catching such fiery up-and-comers makes all the trudging around from stage to stage worthwhile. This young Milwaukee band has a sound recalling Buckcherry and The New York Dolls at their rawest and a lead singer who looks to be cast from both bands' vocalists, sans drag. I SO want to hear more!

Compelling in a wholly different way, Seventh Day Slumber's Joseph Rojas has every right to be somber. God brought him through much. The fest's hottest whether had me sleepy during his seminar.  SDS's post-grunge normally isn't my cup of chai. Rojas' sincerity and dominant musical presence make them a big exception, and they didn't disappoint live. If they played my favorite of theirs, "Innocence," though, I missed it. Drat!

Were Psalters unscheduled or uninvited guests who decided to hold a parade and impromptu concert on the ground? Why-ever they were there, the nomadic crypto-arancho-pacifist collective tore stuff up with their usual subversion, joy, catharsis and multi-culti instrumentation. The only band I saw at LiFest with an accordion, too.   

The Violet Burning invoked both intimacy and pizzazz, albeit with an audience who largely didn't know the veteran alt-rockers. Impish singer Michael Pritzl acknowledged as much between telling of how TVB songs have been used on dodgy TV shows, etc. And these guys aren't legends because...?

I spoke with legendary Russ Taff in the media room. Whether he will ever record a sequel to his underrated '90s commercial country album remains iffy; more certain is that Bill Gaither still sobs over his own songs, according to Taff's admission of the man in whose quartet he sings.

Other notable media room encounters: Project 86's Andrew Schwab, whom I didn't immediately recognize, talking about his gigs as musician and author; folk-popster eLi being sassier than I'd have expected; his accompanist Jeff Weiss giving me and Ken copies of two solo CD's of which he didn't want to lug around so many and Day Of Fire singer Josh Brown giving props to one of my editors.    

Sunday, July 10

Chicagoans Celestial Static reminded me of Veruca Salt's jangular (both jangly and angular) rocking. I enjoyed that. 

Stellar Kart confirmed my impression of them as second-tier pop-punk purveyors, at least from seeing them lead their audience in a vacuous lil' praise&worship chorus between their own numbers. Listenning to their whole album may change my mind. Maybe.

European-American M.C.. DiJohn must be from Minnesota. His entourage wore Timberwolves gear. Giving him doubt's benefit, maybe he meant to have tracks sounding chintzy as Lil Rob's. I've heard better and worse white rappers from his state.  

I saw Plumb in the '90s as a band. Now it's only the singer's name. Does she count as a new act? Whatever, her ethereal Evanesence-ishness hit consistently, even on an outdoor stage without me hearing her current hit or general market crossover from '02.

The Myriad have one of the better band names in recent years and a sound that takes the kickiness of preceding Christocentic alt rockers (such as The Violet Burning) to a harder core. Compeling, but I would like to see more.

The Lads got over without much aggression. The New Zealanders played to few, but it was hard not to be touched by their effortless flow from boy-girl love songs and an ode to a child they support through an international aid program to unpretentious praise and worship. A self-effacing pub rock spirit shone through their friendly songs and persona. 

Hawk Nelson closed out LiFest for me; I wanted to witness what has blown them up so. While their (say it with me...) pop-punk rang with a finer sense of melody than many in their genre, I blew up, too. At the kids who accidentally knocked me on the noggin and accidentally moshed into me, that is. My apologies to them both. But even if their popularity plateaus, HN will need a bigger venue next time. And I, a bit more grace.
   
Jamie Lee Rake 8/10/2005