What Road Are These Gentlemen From

“I know literally nothing of these bands.”

“You're kidding. You've never heard of Mumford & Sons?”

“I've heard of them. I've never heard them. I know DKM, seen them a few times. That's it though. I don't even know who else is playing.”

“So you just came to have fun?”

“Yep.”

The Gentlemen of the Road tour stopped over in Portland, Maine this past weekend. The traveling festival has only four US dates on the schedule, none of the locations being those you would expect to see on a cross-country tour with only four stops. The tour (if you can call it as much) is headlined by Brit folksters Mumford & Sons, and they are bringing around a merry bunch of musicians to entertain people in unusual locales. Saturday's show was no different, held on the side of a hill overlooking Casco Bay – and the weather couldn't have been more perfect.

“It's fucking hot out. I should have worn less clothes.”

“You'd be arrested for indecent exposure.”

“I'll be the judge of my own decency, thank you.”

We walked up the long hill of what must have been Congress Street to get to the Eastern Promenade, site of the show. This is not an area that has seen many concerts, much less the 15,000 attendees that would turn the hillside into a throbbing mass once the amps were turned on. You wouldn't have been able to tell, though. It was a pretty spectacular day, and I wish I had a more apt adjective to describe it. Alcohol was present, as lines began shortly into the first group's set (I still don't quite know who performed and when) for the local brews available under tents. I spent time praising the appropriate volume of staff until it became clear that this volume of staff was anything but appropriate once the show got fully underway. Good thing I picked up some small bottles of wine for the walk.

“You know that's illegal.”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to drink all that now?”

“No. We have a long walk ahead of us.”

“Are you going to try to sneak those in?”

“I imagine I'll be finished with them by the time we get there.”

“I'm really glad you did this.”

“I'm really glad you chose CVS.”

Two stages were set up on the hill, and though it probably would have made sense to rotate the bands on each stage, only two played on the left. The right stage hosted most of the other participants, but that didn't matter. The speakers were loud enough that you could have heard the music clearly in the Old Port. Not that it was overpowering to be close.

The overwhelming sentiment was that people were here for “Mumford.” I spoke to no one who made the trip to Maine for a supporting act, and I hadn't known that “Mumford” were this popular. One woman from Pennsylvania couldn't contain her excitement. A couple from Boston were going to see them in Providence next. There were more people from Massachusetts than Maine, or so it seemed from my admittedly limited interactions.

And the attendees were so friendly. Everyone was here to simply have a good time. No stress, man. Just enjoying the sunshine and the music and the vibes and the experience. I also noticed an odd absence of the traditional sound-enhancing mind-altering substances that pervade your usual festival scene. Not to say the scent wasn't occasionally in the air.

“Where have you been?”

“I went to get beer. And wander.”

The atmosphere lent itself to the activity. Wandering around took up a good portion of my day, as I was not there to see a specific band and was not dying to watch an entire set. It was one of the better people-watching and -interacting experiences I've had lately. I was almost surprised at how goddamn normal everyone seemed. Any notions you may have heading into these concerts should be wiped. A review that came out today reported that there were zero festival-related arrests made.

At the end of Mumford's set, they invited what seemed like every musician from the day onto the stage to perform a rendition of The Band's “The Weight” which culminated in a fantastic fireworks display shot off from the main stage. An unexpected end to a very unexpected adventure for sure.

“Where are you?”

“I'm in front of the house with people on the balcony.”

“I have no idea what house that is. I think you could be in front of any house. Come to the house with red lights outside.”

“Yeah. This one has red lights.”

“I don't think I can see you.”

“Well there are red lights. And a lot of other colored lights.”

“Those are Christmas lights.”

“Yeah. Where are you?”

“We're standing by the ambulance now.”

“You seem to have a fascination with red lights.”

“Just get here. Can you see us? We need to go to the State for the DKM afterparty.”