The energy of the city shifted in the best possible way as I rolled up to probably 200 bicycles outside of the park Wednesday. I was there to catch Dawes and Lucius, one of the first big shows of Treefort.
Something special happens when the temperature hits above 60, the sun makes a reappearance, and there is live music involved. Bicycles are dusted off. Embellished clothes and vintage get-ups come out to play. People drop everything to show up.
This was on full display as I navigated the no-line, no holdups entrance and the outdoor corridor of Treefort signs, colorful art, flags and trees at Julia Davis Park.
Dawes performed some favorites with the duo Lucius, stunning the audience with their incredible harmony.
Few things top a diverse crowd loving a folky alternative band collab on a weekday!
The Main Stage established itself from this point on as the epicenter where you’d see it all in the crowd — denim head to toe, toddlers in fur vests, people dancing in circles with friends, people dancing solo, Dr. Martens, cowboy boots, bare feet and sneakers stepping to the rhythm next to hands waving in the air from a wheelchair, fringe, leather, babies in strollers, kids with noise protection headphones, elderly people, rainbow hair, white hair, babies with no hair. The full array.
Sir Chloe served delicate vocals with cool delivery and electric guitar.
Dehd sounded as strong as in their recorded songs, with vocals like Lou Reed meeting punk female vocals with softer moments.
Just a walk across the grassy field, Bandshell had the same positive dynamic all weekend.
Próxima Parada’s chemistry on stage echoed the chemistry in the crowd, like we were at a backyard party.
They got the entire crowd clapping together to the beat, with their drummer grinning ear to ear showing their undeniable authenticity.
If someone saw a video of the audience, they might mistake it for a flashback to pre-iphone shows.
There’s something about a lineup full of talent many hadn’t heard yet that successfully kept the audience present.
I went from seeking out shows based on clips of songs I played on the Treefort app to eventually relinquishing control and abandoning the plans.
Some of the most stand out sounds were those heard when I let the streetlights decide. My interest in new bands was often a result of walking the grid of downtown’s streets and crossing whichever one had a pedestrian sign light up sooner, heading to the closest venue noise was coming from.
That’s how I ended up at The Shredder for Charity Kiss, a rock band that won me over with their slow song that built into a passionate guitar explosion.
That’s also how I ended up walking up the stairs to The Olympic for Voidstrider, a full throttle '80s-esque rock band that heated up the room with an epic guitar solo.
It brought me to Pengilly’s, where I found the Idaho mountain based artist Freeman DeJongh and his band that drew in TX country nostalgia, psychedelic elements, and alternative rock.
It took me to Neurolux on weekdays to an always full room, starting with Wednesday’s Milk for the Angry show.
The furthest it took me was the Shrine basement, where a kind couple based in Idaho since the '80s, informed me of the large following that Hillfolk Noir has. They were welcoming and unpretentious, a trait that die-hard fans at every show seemed to share.
Others in attendance illustrated that, as Hillfolk Noir filled the basement with banjo, washboard, and a range of soul-filling sounds you definitely don’t hear on any given week.
“I hope your hearts are full and happy. Mine is,” a band member said on the mic.
Mine was, too.
With a soundtrack of everything under the sun, I felt the same overwhelming feeling on repeat until Sunday. The bliss, the shared realization amongst listeners that good music brings out the best in people.
It returned during almost every set, but most notably when I stumbled upon the Outer Space Banana stage.
If the Indie Rock stages of Treefort bring out the best in people, the EDM stages set them free.
Right downtown, between the city buildings and the mountains, the Outer Space Banana stage brought constant future disco funk, beats and celebration.
Enough fur coats to rep each color of the rainbow, ski suits, drag outfits, nonstop dancing gave this stage a block party persona of its own. I showed up to a hype circle forming around a kid in cowboy boots swinging his arms like windmills and letting out everything on the dance floor — say no more!
Just like at the Julia Davis Park stages, the crowds at Outer Space Banana and the Cyclops Stage reacted to every random rainfall like it was fertilizer rather than a disturbance.
Knitting Factory piggybacked on that electronic feel from earlier, launching a bass-filled Saturday night with Eddy K, a local DJ who truly knew how to read a room.
The floor crowd grew in density anticipating Neil Frances, who kicked off a wild set with a funky beat and vocals.
DRAMA was on my list, as it was on many others’, but pausing the festivities to wait in a huge line didn’t sound ideal.
I found what I didn’t know I was looking for by ditching the line and following the sound of bass tucked deep in a downtown office building hall. Back to back DJs brought more intensity than the earlier outdoor groove in the underground low-ceiling atmosphere known as Space Banana.
The Tech House and bass sound came through my shoes, like the floor had a pulse. “Let’s wear our sunglasses” someone dancing alone in front of the DJ said to me. And so, sunglasses went on and hands went up.
Treefort Music Hall was another big player in the week’s events.
The first artist I attended there, El Pedro del Mar, had a sound that straddled dreamy, melancholy, and theatrical for a good sized crowd.
Each time I popped into the venue thereafter, even for 10 minutes on any day, I’d be treated to another genre and a great turn out.
Free Creatures had Treefort Music Hall packed to the brim and a nearly minute long applause before their final song.
Sunsmith played for an equally full Hall that somehow still allowed me to get right in front of the stage.
“F*** yeah!!” The Cali-Reggae lead singer shouted between songs, “This is what I like to do right here with my Sundays” before ending with a perfectly executed cover of Sublime’s "Badfish."
Later that night, same spot, different cover — Magic City Hippies absolutely killed it, weaving Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ “Suck My Kiss” with their performance of unique Miami vibe tracks and previews of their upcoming album.
Thank you Treefort — for diversity, a fully involved audience, untapped immaculate sound. Same time next year?
