THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD TO BISCOLAND
I attended my first Camp Bisco during the summer of 2010. I had just graduated high school, and at the tender age of seventeen, my curiosity-fueled escapades had already rewired the gearbox in my mind. I showed up to Indian Lookout Country Club with a handful of ecstasy, an under packed bag, and an insatiable desire to push my mind to the edge; I was introduced to a world of creative madness and I quickly became enamored by it. Thirteen years have passed since that fateful weekend, and I have sprinted, stumbled, and tripped down this yellow brick road that twists and turns through a minefield of hallucinogenic proportion many times over; I can only describe the beautiful chaos as expansive yet detrimental, wondrous yet baffling, and at the end of the day, flat out inspiring.
A lot has changed but a lot has stayed the same. Though it’s morphed in shape, size, and name, that world of creative madness is still a living, breathing organism of sound and spirit; a traveling circus of sonic carnival rides hidden within the cosmic juxtaposition of neon lights amongst open fields and sprawling woodlands, echoes of the past booming into the ears of the future, another hurled bowling ball of trance-fusion rolling toward the pins… Biscoland is here to stay.
The Disco Biscuits always seem to find a way to “make it happen” - through reinvention rooted in the spherical combination of calculated risk and clear authentic vision, they just do it, like an underdog knocking out his opponent after rising from getting dropped on the canvas. It ain’t over til it’s over, I mean, it’s hard not to root for them at this point. I hadn’t seen the band play in over a year and what better time and place for me to jump back in than Biscoland in upstate New York. Not only did it feature Lotus both nights, they brought out a handful of great acts including Space Bacon.
Space Bacon kicked off the festival at 4:30 pm under a misty drizzle that fluctuated to brief moments of torrential downpour. Not only was the crowd undeniably sizable for the slot, they were fully engaged from start to finish. The set was another testament as to where this band is going. The only way is up. Through brief trials and tribulations and personnel changes, their New York hustle and ambitious improvisational pursuits have propelled them through it all. The next morning they packed up and headed to Burlington for a sold out show at the famed Nectars which featured sit-ins from bassist Zdenek Gubb and drummer Adrian Tramontano of Twiddle. They’re really finding their stride with Freddy Rylands on guitar, it’s becoming more and more accentuated with every show and every new song, and there are further developments on the way. The bottom line is that Bacon is here to stay - their set at Biscoland just added more fuel to the flamethrower.
The amount of love and respect I have for Lotus is no secret. It’s only grown as I’ve grown. To see them on a festival stage as a four-piece was emotional and powerful; the real will always prevail. They’ve adapted while overcoming an unimaginably tragic situation and if it doesn’t inspire you, I don’t know what to tell you. It was my first time seeing them with the new stage plot, moving guitarist Tim Palmieri between Luke and Jesse Miller, and to be honest, it works fabulously. Tim’s tone sounded like warm butter on a fresh everything bagel from a lower Manhattan establishment that has been in operation for a hundred years. He’s really found his place within the bittersweetness of this chapter. Drummer Mike Greenfield stepped up to the plate in a massive way that somehow remains modest and subtle, reconfiguring his kit with a number of percussion pieces from Chuck Morris’ setup, a fitting tribute to all that Chuck brought to Lotus since their inception. Though the absence of Morris was obviously noticeable, the heart of the band had an enormous stage presence, and they’re fully committed to the cause of keeping this music alive.
Lotus christened the MainStage at the inaugural Biscoland before the Biscuits set it off proper. It’s only right that the first Biscuits set at their new festival was in the rain. With former Umphreys Mcgee LD Jefferson Waful lighting up a Need for Speedeqsue ‘Munchkin Invasion’ jam, creating visuals that looked like hurricanes on weather maps, I felt right at home. Some of my most memorable Biscuits experiences and fondest moments at Camp Bisco have featured inclement weather. Go figure. Eating red gel tabs under a wintry mix at Red Rocks while they catapulted me into a digitized snow globe or the ‘Cyclone’ restart at Camp Bisco 2016. These are just two that come to mind. And don’t get it twisted… Biscoland is not Camp Bisco, but it is exactly what the band and fanbase deserve at this point in their storied history. I’m at a point in my life where I don’t feel the need to dramatically compare this to that, or nitpick every little thing a band does or doesn’t do, I’ve never wanted to be a critic, just a creative.
Though I only stayed for the first night, I was able to recognize the imaginative potential for the festival and grounds. Clarity increases the senses and as the fog slow danced with the rolling hills that sheltered the apple orchards from the outside world, I saw the transformative beauty. I’m not as attached to this music as much as I once was, but I do have a lot of love for it. It has taught me valuable creative lessons; find your people, take chances, stay true through the storms, and work really hard on what you love. And for that I will always show gratitude to the world of jamtronica, for the music of the Disco Biscuits, Lotus, and Space Bacon, for the inflating epiphanies and neurotic explosions, for the cosmic juxtaposition of neon lights amongst open fields and sprawling woodlands, and for the twists and turns of this yellow brick road.
Hope to see you at an upcoming Space Bacon show. Take care of yourselves. - Zachary Franck
