Demonstrating the immense benefits of diversifying festival lineups, Bluesfest night one brought queer spunk.
The July 4 artists embraced the rich tools of their respective genres to express queer truths. In cowboy hats and gender-expansive apparel, night one crowds welcomed messages of identity, joy and humour.
Offering an A/C escape, OK Naledi’s Barney Danson Theatre performance presented engrossing Afrohouse synths.
Starting off a little vocally unsure, the local musician quickly found their groove alongside spectacular supporting drums, keyboard and turntable performers. Striking up an ongoing banter about Naledi’s dad sitting in the crowd, attendees were invited into the musician’s emotional and comical worlds.
One such song was “Confessions,” written about their father falling in love with their mom.
The musician also shared the musical backstory to the thrilling vocal trills, or ululations, utilised in “DON’T.”
“I’m from Botswana,” they said. “Ululating is something that happens in joyous occasions and big boisterous ones, and I wanted to incorporate them.”
Sustaining those celebratory vibrations, OK Naledi drew smiles when instructing crowd members to deliver their loudest “choo choos” during “The Train.”
Songs such as “do you feel” and “KEEP GOING” continued to offer sanctuary, dance opportunities and “bisexual lighting,” as festivalgoers filled the theatre to escape downpours outside.
Over at the RBC Stage, cannabis whiffs tumbled through the humidity, establishing the perfect climate to welcome Orville Peck, who was decked out in head-to-toe western attire and his signature black eye mask.
In the opening moments of “Big Sky,” the cowboy bestowed campy chords and deep, sultry vibratos, sending the crowd into a frenzy.
For “Turn to Hate” and “The Hurtin’ Kind,” Peck’s stage presence mischievously toyed with attendees’ infatuation, displaying faces of performative despair complemented with guitar hip thrusts.
Galloping into more fast-paced numbers, the lyrics of “Daytona Sand” and patter song “Any Turn” used signature country allegories to comment on queer relationships.
Next, Peck shared that his upcoming duet album Stampede was inspired by an “old guy from Texas” asking to collaborate.
“Not only did Willie Nelson want to do a song with me, but he wanted to do a song about gay cowboys which is very on brand for me,” Peck said. “‘Cause unless you haven’t been paying attention, I’m a gay cowboy.”
Forever projecting his spunky twang, the crowd happily sang along to “Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other,” with its commentary on defying cis-hetero norms.
Alluring an ensemble of young queer fans towards the River Stage, Manotick indie sensation Leith Ross then anointed the first headlining show of the Bluesfest season.
Gentle rain drops bounced upon the ethereal waves emanating from the opening notes of “Orlando.” As a tangy bass knitted beneath Ross’ signature airy voice, the small-but-devoted crowd became fully engrossed with the artist.
Next, sorrowful imagination underlined Ross’ rendition of “Music Box”— a tune the singer prefaced as being “the only song I’ve ever released that’s completely fictional.” The purple trees and absurdist imagery granted listeners space to release restrictive renderings of reality.
Warm downpours then sent many dashing for cover, with Ross joking that they didn’t take the sprinting personally.
For the brave few who dared to embrace the atmospheric cascades, a gift of fan-favourite “I’d Have To Think About It” followed. Hail serving as a metronome, the crowd screamed along in what Ross coined a “movie moment.”
Transitioning into the middle portion of their set, Ross shared personal reflections into more niche pieces of their discography.The folk riffs of “Too Much Time In My House” recounted anxiety struggles. Unreleased track “I Can See the Future” then explored philosophical inquiries of radical optimism, land back, fruit gardens and utopian vision, respectively.
Ross then coyly introduced the second-last item of the set, saying, “This is a love song for gay people. Straight people, you are welcome too. Love is love!”
Lovers arm in arm and friends belting along, the crowd transformed into a choir for sapphic staple, “(You) On My Arm.”
As the backup musicians left River Stage, the evening’s intimacy was at its peak. With only a guitar and microphone, Ross offered one minute and 39 seconds of blissful vulnerability, sweetly whispering the lyrics to “We’ll Never Have Sex.”
Cowboy and love-struck stars swirling in attendees’ eyes, the thinned crowd headed home through the July humidity, capping Bluesfest night one.
Featured image by Natasha Baldin.