Stagecoach Day 2

By Jake Tully

Stagecoach Day 2: Day two greeted its patrons with a dark and portentous sky looming over the Empire Polo Fields. A sea change from Friday’s Santa Ana wind- riddled atmosphere, the dark clouds overhead proved some sort of hesitation for the day’s events – inciting a bawdiness not yet seen at 2015’s activities.

Daniel Romano first took the stage, clad in Graham Parsons nudie suit pants and slinging some terrifyingly dry humor and horror. Romano is the reluctant country star, refusing to be pigeonholed into a style or genre despite some conventional country sensibilities. TJ Magazine got the opportunity earlier this year to speak with Romano at great lengths about country/roots/Americana and everything under the broad umbrella of genres. While decidedly not a “country” artist per se, one can’t help but notice the tinge of George Jones-infused into his craft.

It’s an interesting point to be made – where do we draw the line between what is decidedly “country” and what is not? Furthermore, how far should Stagecoach extend itself to include non-country acts? The answer ought to lie within what the folks attending want to hear, yet it shouldn’t lie within tapping pop groups that just happen to feature a fiddle and slide guitar.

ZZ top and Gregg Allman don’t necessarily fall into country, but many would contend they embody a country oeuvre, a hybrid of both rock and country-influenced stylings.

The thought of putting music in a specific box ran through my mind while watching John Moreland perform “You Can Call Me Al” and Nikki Lane taking the stage immediately after to cover “Oh La La” and “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” – all of which have something accepted form of country within them.

As if sent by a divine messenger, my quandaries were answered by a portly California-glad donned man who was literally whistling Dixie as he scuttled along to an ambiguous fiddle tune in the distance. The man stopped whistling mid tune only to projectile vomit, but he kept on truckin’ a few seconds later. Country in California is just about as ambiguous as it gets, as is the genre itself. Calling something country is about as non-descript as the term “rock.”

Quasi-existential musical queries aside, Caitlin Rose was a powerhouse on The Mustang Stage. As charming as could be, it was hard not to become smitten with her during the hour she held court on stage. “Are you as hung over as I am?” Rose asked after the first few songs. Sipping a Heineken and donning shades, this was likely less of a jest and more of an honest plea for sympathy.

Rose was cute, but her music didn’t lend itself to the effete or magnetically attract the 17 and under crowd.

Stagecoach featured a “Nashville” stage with a bill of stars from the hit ABC program, featuring Chris Caramack, Clare Bowen and Charles Esten. The band backing up the singers played continuously whilst the singer rotated every half hour or so, making for a practically seamless showcase. The crowd was clearly full of the tv show, people especially losing their minds for Charles Esten, though personally this reporter was excited to see a past “Whose Line is it Anyway” alum.

The merry pranksters of The Devil Makes Three had the unfortunate luck of dealing with lead singer Pete Bernhard’s illness, with Stagecoach tapping Mickey Gilly in lieu of the Santa Cruz punks. It was a shock and disappointment to wander over to the stage to see the grandeur of Gilly’s trite act. An ailing Bernhard would’ve surely put on a more engaging performance than Gilly.

Gregg Allman did not disappoint, playing all the hits one could want. Admittedly knowing very little about Allman’s performances going in to the set, it turns out there’s very little to know outside of the fact that Allman still plays the organ like a Bandit and his voice has been immaculately preserved. One appreciates that Allman didn’t go for any left field choices in his set – only the hits. “Statesboro Blues” hasn’t aged a day nor has “Midnight Rider” both of which saw a youthful yet highly adept treatment from his touring band.

By the time ZZ Top took the stage, things took a rowdy turn. Has a crowd ever took a turn for the acerbic and nasty during a song entitled “Gimme All Your Lovin’” or “Cheap Sunglasses?” Who would’ve thought folks from the side of country would get so territorial about their space? After settling out of the maelstrom of hate, the bearded trio performed yet another timeless gig. If they’ve aged, it’s impossible to tell. A ferocious Billy Gibbons reminiscent of the Eliminator days tore through a sludgy cover of “Purple Haze.” An absolute bucket list show, ZZ Top was well-worth any torment from the drunken masses.

Miranda Lambert, contemporary country’s first lady, was dazzling on the Mane State Saturday night. Clad in a sequined “Coal Miner’s Daughter” shirt, Lambert kept up the pace perfectly with endearing ballads and well-tempered jaunty numbers. “The House That Built Me” resonated with a great deal of the crowd, but overall her pacing was tuned more for an upbeat night, a spot-on sort of headliner.

Lambert knows she has it good, but doesn’t feel the need to flaunt that fact like so many country mavens today. Rather, Lambert has internalized her fame and appeals to enchanting her fans for the sheer sake of doing so. An unfair amount of hubris gets imposed on country stars, but Lambert certainly hasn’t fallen victim to such pitfalls.

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