There are essentially two types of festivals, those who are set up to make money, and those that are not. In North America, we play many events that feel like festivals, but fall somewhere in between; for example, they take place outside with multiple band bills, lots of hippies, etc., and feel very festival like. Generally they are produced either for profit, or by organizations that have a mandate (and budget) to present a wide spectrum of live entertainment. Recent shows in Lowell, Massachusetts, Northampton, Ma, and Maine all fall into this category. The Ottawa Blues Festival is another big one in this category. Festivals like Tonder, Calgary and Winnipeg are essentially non-profit. Money made goes to pay artists, operating expenses, and improve facilities.

 This difference can be crucial. For-profit festivals tend to be much more corporate, but also better organized, and less given to bizarre eccentricities. Non-profit festivals tend to operate with a much looser vibe, with a wider variety of music, and a more family-friendly feel. They also tend to live and die by the weather, volunteer turn-out, and other ephemeral influences. Either way, after 15 years of doing these, a few observations are starting to emerge:

 - At the big festivals, almost no one sucks. A slot on a stage - any slot, any stage - is highly coveted. Bands and artists compete heavily for these slots, and the result is an almost universally high standard. It might not be your cup of tea, but it will be quality. Even if you have only heard of half the bill, your time and money will not be wasted. I will confess that I have little or no interest in alt-country, particularly bands who are both deliberately disorganized and dreary. There are a lot of them at festivals these days, so I tend to pay little attention to them. Many others disagree. So be it. Either way, there is a plethora of fine performers out there, and only the best make it onstage these days.

- Festival organizers love workshops, particularly those that feature a disparate group of musicians somehow sharing the same artistic space. I have seen a lot of these over the years, although we participate in as few as possible. Not so much because we are snobs, but because we have created a cohesive package, one that we prefer to utilize in order to display our material to its best advantage (such as it is). Breaking our show up into bits and playing in some half-assed format just does not make a lot of sense. In theory, workshops give the audience more bang for the buck. They seem to work best when the musicians really do have something in common, i.e. style or presentation. I saw a group of Irish musicians slay at one such mini-concert, recently. Of course, they all shared a certain repertoire and sensibility, which made it easy to mix and match. Workshops organized by theme do not work quite as well. A couple of weeks ago, I watched one workshop loosely based on a Balkan theme come completely unglued. The musicians onstage were forced to politely endure each other’s music, music they were plainly uninterested in. At one point, after a ten minute meandering jam, the leader plaintively said, on mic, “Can we just please stop now?” Not ideal.

- More organization does not necessarily make for a better festival. Calgary and Edmonton are probably the most organized festivals in the world, but it sometimes has the effect of turning the audience into children. For example, the fuss over tarp spaces seems nuts to me. Effectively at those festivals, you have to run a race or win a raffle to get space to lay out a tarp or blanket, giving you 8 square feet of personal space at the main venue. This results in some weird situations. You can see it in the audience’s eyes - Who cares if I hate all the acts tonight, and only want to see a band on Sunday? My tarp is here - I would rather hang out here and be miserable than let someone else get it. In Calgary, in order to eat, for example, you had to rent a plate, which you then had to carry around until it was time to line up and return it to a separate window. I am all for recycling, but it felt rather too much like a prison movie for my tastes. Many North American festivals are just as puritanical, banning drinking, meat, sequestering dancers, preaching various political causes at the crowd, and otherwise ensuring that everyone has the minimum of fun. Then you go to Europe, where there is no seating to speak of, everyone drinks and smokes like crazy, dirty kids run around everywhere, and people camp happily in some bog up to their knees in muck…and yet somehow, no one gets seriously hurt, and no one needs to fear a lawsuit. A different world indeed.

- Good festivals make sure that the acts are bigger than the festival; in other words, there has to be people playing who the audience genuinely wants to see. Festivals, particularly older ones, have a way of losing site of the fact that they are entertainment events. No one wants to spend their precious fun time being involuntarily educated, and the more serious a festival is, the less people seem to turn out. The Newfoundland and Labrador Folk Festival, in my opinion, has almost fallen victim to this problem. For a variety of reasons, the festival has largely been abandoned by the province’s professional musicians. While it is still a very authentic collection of Newfoundland artists, it is now competing with a host of other local festivals, shows which feature the cream of the province’s working performers. Locally, it feels like the equivalent of porridge - not really what you want to eat, but damn it, it is going to be good for you. A lot of casual fans have been voting with their feet, and the results are shrinking gates and wobbly finances. We have seen this phenomena taking place elsewhere, as well. Festivals need to constantly evolve, and keep abreast of what is happening in the music, and most important, find acts that the audience actually wants to pay for.

 -Volunteers can be both the blessing and the bane of a festival. We have met some genuinely wonderful people working at festivals, and anyone giving up their time to perform thankless tasks needs to be congratulated, not criticized. On the other hand, we have spent hours pulling our hair out in frustration, stymied by volunteer crews that seem to have been summoned directly from some particularly bureaucratic branch of the post office. We are not unduly picky about dressing rooms, riders, and other rock star hand-holding. We do expect to play, sound-check, show up for  interviews, and otherwise do our jobs when we are scheduled, hopefully with a minimum of fuss and bother for all concerned. You would be amazed at how hard this sometimes is.

- Young bands are struggling to take on the mantle of headliner. In Europe, we see the same bands who have been headlining for 20 years still at the top of the bill. The situation is somewhat better here in North America, but only just. While this is good for people like us, it is not good for the festivals. All festivals need to find and support young acts, acts who can build audiences and go the distance, acts who one day can draw the large crowds that will keep these unique events strong and healthy. In light of the above, check out Danu, Seth Lakeman, Lau, La Vent Du Nord, The Duhks, The Sadies, Julie Fowlis, and a dozen more. They need you.

 - No one, not Newfoundlanders, not Germans, not even the Irish, can drink more than the Danes. Once again, we have been humbled.