When you’ve been up till xam, morning always comes as a nasty shock and every meal at NERFA you saw a number of stunned expressions. We’re About 9 has NO excuse for looking stunned, however, as they’re veterans and I feel that perhaps Brian and Pat were merely making fun of me. Below, Zoe Mulford is another veteran NERFer. Here she is joined by a bass player and Brad Yoder on alto-sax. Doug played a set after her and demonstrated his songwriting prowess – he’s become one of my favourite, most passionate and intelligent writers.
NERFA was amazing. It’s going to take me a while to sort out my thoughts and parse it into anything coherent, but that’s the short answer: NERFA (North Eastern Regional Folk Alliance) was amazing.
Educationally: some of the panel discussions were awesome, some fell shy of what I wanted out of them – but if there was anything that wasn’t quite the right fit it was easy for me to go check out something else. There were mentor programs, friends with tips and friends that I could give tips to and in general, I’m only saddened that we had never come out to NERFA sooner.
Aesthetically: the music was amazing. Whether they were old friends (We’re About 9 maintains their status as one of the best bands out there, period) or relatively new friends from home (it was great to see Beggar’s Ride out-of-state and doing what they do so very, very well) or new Falcon Ridge friends (Pesky J Nixon: I admire their work-ethic intensely and watching them weave community around them everywhere they go is), fellow road warriors (we hadn’t seen Matt Nakoa since South of the Border) or performers from all over the world (I could list another dozen names here that I was happy to see, but if I try to name all of them, I’ll forget one or two or seven) – the musicians were almost universally high caliber and even people who DIDN’T match my taste were friendly and fantastic and people I simply wanted to be around.
Getting ourselves settled for our first official showcase, we stumble across some pretty wonderful instruments laid out in the greenish room*. We later meet Ari and Mia, a quirky duo with a guitarist named Owen along for the added-awesome making for a trio of very excellent musicians, one of which had built the above fretless banjo at a workshop.
*Not that it was only slightly green, but rather, its usage seemed to be a bit unofficial. A lot of the conference center was like that. Whether it was a stairwell, a library, an unused bar or theatre or even cot storage, any door that was unlocked was eventually opened, the space behind it explored, and then used as a space to play, to tune, to chat, or ocassionally to make out.
The promised night of jamming and music begins instantly as we run across Zoe Mulford entertaining a circle of onlookers and participators. Meanwhile, we were JUST figuring out what line to stand in! 
Beyond mutual admiration, perhaps, there was a good deal of mutual basking. I didn’t join in a lot of the jamming – I sang along with a Greg Klyma-led version of “You Are My Sunshine” in a minor, dirgey key and jammed along with “The Voice” star Rebecca Loebe but other than that, generally I stayed on the sidelines. I was perfectly content there – I got to watch everything going on around me. Whether there was swing insanity with Marcy Marxer and Babik (who sort of redefined Gypsy jazz for my by including some Black Sabbath at a FOLK conference!) in the middle racing faster and faster through delirium to aural orgasm – or it was a folk mob group sing in the middle of the dinner hour or it was a trio of violinists working their way through some reels in the corner and grinning their heads off or one of the myriad, reverb-washed stairway jams – I was more than happy to watch. I rarely left my comfort zone and would have been at a loss to jump in with most of the goings-ons… even if I had the chops and the knowledge (sometimes I felt almost confident enough to join in) the simple fact that I don’t play with a pick keeps me from competing on simply a volume level.
The halls for the conference were just a constant press of people, made all the more complex by larger instruments passing through like upright basses, pianos and yes, ocassional cellos. (though not pictured above, we actually saw a LOT of cellos – they’re the new black, apparently). 
I don’t have the vocabulary here, that’s for certain. I’m not from any of the better-established communal traditions: whether that means having a dozen traditional tunes somewhere in the back of my head, or knowing my way through an Irish jig, a bluegrass progression, nor do I have such solid theory in my skull as to be able to just follow called keys – I can do pretty well, but when the going gets tough, the rob gets quiet.
On the other hand, I’d LIKE to think that if we’d all decided to break into some Rage Against the Machine I’d not be found wanting. Sigh.
I really enjoyed the pervasive aspect. I might not’ve Loved the fact that music got absolutely EVERYWHERE if we hadn’t had a hotel room to retreat to, but as it was, I Loved the fact that we’d enter a stairway and run across The Sea, The Sea and Matt Nakoa and get to play a couple of tunes with them before moving on. I even borrowed Matt’s leftie and played it upside down! 
Learning from the minds of booking agents, folk djs, other musicians, venue-owners – it reminded me of college, frankly, where all this STUFF was just there for the taking – I just had to keep my ears open. I wasn’t terribly good at asking my own questions, but I learned a lot from the questions of those around me and though there’s the overwhelming sensation that I don’t know even half of what I need to know and will NEVER know it all, there’s also the reassurance that we’re all in the same boat and the majority at least are all rowing in the same direction and even the people up front aren’t looking to shove anyone overboard. There was definitely a huge sense of optimism – I went through some pretty vicious moodswings though. I went from feeling on top of the world to depressed, from inspired to almost deciding that THIS was ilyAIMY’s last public appearance and back again. My internal emotional needle was swinging all over the place – probably from lack of sleep and the intense emotional stew of creative people, not to mention the fact that my stomach had been unsettled since Pittsburgh.
Yeah – NERFA was amazing but it’ll take some time to sort. My notes look like something used in a movie when they get to the villains layer and realize “it’s not that he’s EVIL per se… just mad! MAD I SAY!!!” written sideways, upside down, in reverse on occasion in various rob hands from tiny to scrawl.
For right now I think I just need to lean back and close my eyes for a while. The GPS’ best guess for our arrival at Capital City Cheesecake is 5.23pm which is very, very tight. I’d like to see that time his at LEAST 5.15pm and I think it might, we’ve just got to hit NO traffic betwixt Travistock, NJ and Takoma Park!
After the official showcases are done is when the whole conference just goes nuts. The first night, Thursday, there were perhaps only 10 guerilla showcases in action throughout the building, each with their own host, distinct flavour, quirky title, and generally some sort of signature food. Above, Heather and I listen to performer LJ Booth as he performs a tune on a guitar made from “Tunnel 13 reclaimed redwood”. A great guitarist, the standout tune from him (before we all jammed together on an improvised, rhythmic piece in D) was a kind of dark tune about killing boxwoods. [Looking back and organizing everything, this is ACTUALLY from Friday afternoon at Connor Garvey’s “Fearless Songwriter” Showcase. You know, in room 1321!] 
And then it’s time to wander NERFA – above, Claudia San-Soucie and Kate Maguire of Beggar’s Ride (fellow Baltimore, represent!) playing a SAW (Songwriters Association of Washington) guerilla showcase.)
