It’s about time San Diego County had an annual sweaty music festival to call its own. In its second year, Festival Del Mar further establishes what it means musically to live in the beachfront palm forest of North County, amongst throngs of college students and well-off, 30-plus surfer types. Embrace your community (for $25 a day with student ID) by checking out the local talent under the art tent, the hip innocence of windblown children painting a peace mural while Delta Nove’s Brazilian drum parade marches past and, most of all, a lineup any record store rat would drool over.
Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, by Jennifer Hsu/Guardian
How better to spend the first Saturday of your academic year than watching this hot, funky black lady sing? Sharon Jones belts honey-coated soul stories with an old-fashioned charm and optimism you thought only existed in far-off diners — “How lo-o-ong do I have to wait for you honey, before a girl like me can move on?” she will ask with a wiggle of the hips, converting even the most stoned moe. heads at the festival into finger-snapping, twinkling young swingers.
Trained by the gospel of the church and intoxicated at an early age with the trailing aroma of the funk James Brown left behind in Georgia, Jones was soon harmonizing with such greats as the Four Tops and the Drifters. But this natural-born frontwoman was meant to stand center stage — she’s now backed by Daptone Records house band the Dap-Kings, with a three-man horn section on the left, three strings on the right and a drummer behind. Though they may not bring this year’s crowd, they’ll no doubt leave as the stars of the show.
Felix Fan
It’s not every day you get to see one of America’s finest cellists open a lineup of jam reggae and boogie-blues big bands. Felix Fan, who has studied beside the great Yo-Yo Ma and gifted our own little La Jolla (along with San Francisco) with the Muzik3 Festival, integrates modern sounds and theater elements into his classical repertoire. Wake up to a smaller crowd and some plodding strings to get your buzz going.
Super Chikan
For a guy who tried to understand the language of chickens as a child and then learned to play an instrument in order to recreate their glorious squawking, Super Chikan plays some surprisingly normal old-time, feel-good blues. Give the man a stage, however, and the obsession resurfaces, frothing with enough creepy weirdness to satisfy a month’s worth of cravings: “Somebody shoot that thang!” is his signature outcry, accompanied by a tendency toward rooster impressions and guitar playing by means of tongue.
Medeski Martin & Wood
Medeski Martin & Wood are light-years from elevator music. Their jazz gives the blood a shot of rebel; the pump of Hammond organ and flicker of keyboard send warm chills through the core. The avant-garde trio was first exposed by a number of performances with Phish early on in their career, a connection that identified them as part of the jam band scene by association. They are jammers in their way — their soulful, mysterious way of building static anticipation in and around the stage. If you’re the television type, you may have heard the James Bond-ready, jazzy drama of MMW’s “End of the World Party” on “Grey’s Anatomy.” If not, catch it live this Saturday.
Common Sense
Groundation is to NorCal as Common Sense is to SoCal — in other words, the reggae/rock chill-back band somehow plays weekend after weekend to loyally packed venues without any sort of drop in attendance. If you haven’t seen Common Sense yet (they usually play at the Belly Up), you’re not actually considered a member of the community, so you might want to get on that — here’s your chance.
George Thorogood & The Destroyers
Twenty-five years after the release of “Bad to the Bone,” I wonder how convincingly a now 55-year-old George Thorogood still performs his cocky ’80s man-anthem. Not to mention how deathly sick he must be of hearing the Destroyers rev up those first few familiar chords and having to pretend to be excited about it. Truth is, Thorogood and his band have pumped out some pretty rockin’ hits over the years — unfortunately, they made one of those singles that will forever define and identify their careers. I suppose there are worse things than being one of the “Bad to the Bone” dudes … say, being one of the “Short Skirt, Long Jacket” dudes.
The Censored
Banned from playing at their junior high (hence the band name), this fresh batch of Solana Beach 13- and 14-year-olds can play better than most punk-rockers twice their age. Witness the Ramones-worshiping purity of eager youth and maybe, if you’re feeling it, give the kids a courtesy mosh.
Mad Professor
Exclusively electronic performances always have the potential to be bland or repetitive, since they usually consist of one guy pressing buttons and turning knobs behind his soundboard. But England-based Mad Professor knows how to make his set a live experience: with some soulful honeys from self-run label Ariwa Sounds on the mic, laying down rootsy dub beats and mixes in the vocals as they are sung. An endearing history — including building all his own equipment, working with Lee “Scratch” Perry on some of the most innovative electro-rhythms to emerge from the often-dull world of ’90s reggae and a remix of Massive Attack’s Protection that almost beat the original — make Mad Professor one of the must-sees of Festival Del Mar.
Dilated Peoples
Filling in for last-minute hip-hop dropout act Digable Planets, Dilated Peoples is a slightly disappointing replacement for the festival. Don’t get me wrong: MCs Evidence (white and skinny) and Rakaa (fat and black) are pleasantly alive on stage. You can actually hear what they’re saying and the gifted DJ Babu spins some mighty catchy beats to back them up. I guess it’s just that the whole thing — aside from an electrifying scratch break from Babu — is a bit of a snore. Digable Planets’ old school jazz-hop would have meshed better with all the other big-name old-timers playing songs we wish we’d been old enough to remember. (How awesome would it have been to see female MC “Ladybug” reciting her verse from “Rebirth of Slick”? Bummer.) But Dilated Peoples will put on a solid show, performing concert-ready cuts like “Live on Stage,” “Worst Comes to Worst” and “Back Again.”
Cake
After six exhausting hours of festival watching, listening, dancing, eating, drinking, standing and sunburning, there needs to be a hell of a reason to stick around for the headlining band. Cake doesn’t cut it. In case you vaguely remember Sun God 2002 or heard any survivors’ stories, you’ll know they generally suck as a live band — so unless you really want to hear that tired single for the millionth time, feel free to drop out early.
Kaki King
It’s always empowering to watch a little woman with a big sound. Kaki King plays the guitar with a rhythmic fever one would usually acquaint with the drummer — pounding and tapping and plucking along. It’s pop-rock with some sweet, new-age quirkiness … and though she’s openly gay, don’t call this lesbian rock.
Moe.
I usually dismiss a group as annoying if they either don’t use capitalization or use punctuation in their band name — i.e. Panic! At the Shitco — mostly because it’s artsy for the sake of being so and makes my iTunes messy (not to mention those types have a tendency of sucking). But moe. have slowly jammed their way past my judgmental grumpiness and into my heart with shake-your-limbs-loose, Graceland-reviving, 10-plus-minute songs that utilize just the right amount of reggae, ’90s jam riffs and upbeat chillness to invoke some badass barefoot grass-dancing. moe. host both the annual festivals moe.down (attracting icons like the Flaming Lips and Violent Femmes) and snoe.down, a ski-slope of bundled musicians playing to frozen fans. Just ask their legions of followers (who prefer to be called moe.rons): once you’ve felt a moe. song, there’s no unfeeling it.
