Before Lynn Miles took the RavenLaw stage she was awarded an Ottawa Folk award on behalf of the festival and the late owner of Rasputin Cafe. Rasputin’s was a hotspot for folk singers and artists based in Ottawa. The long list of names Miles gave in her speech showed how long she had been part of the community, and what an active member she has been.
She took the stage with a member of Prairie Oyster and the duo played through over a dozen folk songs. Both their voices worked well in harmony. She had a few die hard fans paying close attention, but most of the crowd were just early in anticipation for Gordon Lightfoot’s show. Miles played standard folk fare. Her voice was the highlight of her set.
I did not find the performance very memorable. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t great. If you are a fan of the genre it would keep you happy. If you were involved heavily in the Ottawa folk scene I think Miles’ set would be something to talk about. But for me, I’m not well versed enough in the in-and-outs of the genre to have Miles stand out.
Carolina Chocolate Drops ushered in the final evening of Folk Fest by transporting the crowd away from chilly Ottawa to the hot valleys and hills of North Carolina. The band is a four-piece that plays old-down-south country, folk, bluegrass, and Gaelic jigs. They mixed lively covers of forgotten classics with their own material and brought out a variety of instruments to accompany their songs. They even introduced a special guest to sing an a capella gospel hymn.
They tackled every song with fierce energy and power. The opening number had the ringleader of the group tossing his guitar in the air while spinning it and catching it. He never missed a note. The group’s ability to string stories together and contextualize the music being played gave every piece an extra punch. Their passion for old time southern music was infectious. They passed on names of record labels, singers, and places.
The biggest surprise of the set was two Gaelic folk songs. The first part of the medley was done a capella. The second was accompanied by clapping from the band and audience as well as an instrument known as “bones.” These are a handheld percussion tool, commonly made from animal bones.
The Gaelic medley caught most of the audience off guard but was a crowd pleaser nonetheless. It showed how diverse the soundscape and history of North Carolina is. It reminded listeners that all of these influences play into one another, and showed off how diverse and strong the band is—they know how to construct a set.
Carolina Chocolate Drops shines as a live band. Their desire to share southern culture is organic. And while it might be rooted in the past, they never stop growing and looking to the future. This four-piece traditional string band has and still is reinventing and reinvigorating the genre.
Gordon Lightfoot was both looking and sounding old when he closed out the RavenLaw stage. Lightfoot is a Canadian folk legend, known for defining the Canadian soundscape and sharing our tales with the world. Even now, he still draws an impressive crowd.
The tone set by the crowd was respect and admiration for Lightfoot and his crew. People’s enthusiasm for him wasn’t connected to the performance itself but the collective memory they shared of Lightfoot. Most of the crowd was middle-age or senior, but a few college students and children littered the crowd. I looked out on white hair and decades-long fandom. Lawn chairs were packed in tightly, winter coats, and toques could be spotted on almost everyone.
Lightfoot’s singing was gentle. Everything seemed quieter than the rest of the festival. Lightfoot, at 74, can hardly be blamed for being old. It happens to us all. I understand that performing is his lifeblood. Die hard fans wanted to see him before it was too late. His band and his guitar-playing are still in fairly good shape. The whole show, though important to the history and celebration of folk, was past its prime. Sadness and loss were there more than celebration and joy. Lightfoot’s performance was a downer, but it was better than never seeing him at all.
