I didn’t make the Thursday and Friday night shows, but drove down early Saturday. Gigs were held at several venues in the downtown core, at pubs, parks, and social clubs. It was a really pleasant country-town vibe, and we wound up seeing a lot of the same people and performers over and over again at the different venues.

This festival doesn’t have the big names (and big prices) of the Byron Bay Bluesfest, but here were some really great performers, ones that I feel I was lucky to see for free.

On Saturday I saw several bands.

I started at one crowded pub with The Resonators, a father-and-son act that got a full slot by winning the street busking competition the previous year. They paid blues standards, with solid guitar skills, but the singing was just OK.

A hope to the pub across the street and next up was Leroy Lee, more of a folk singer. He was good, with a looping device and some keen feedback skills that gave his guitar songs lots of mood and texture. But they did start sounding a bit same-y after a while.

Back to the first pub for a band I picked because of the name: Tobasco Tom & Doc White. These guys turned out to be fantastic: steeped in early Americana, with everything from jump blues to Virginia murder ballads. Funny too. I caught one song on video.

Down the road to the Soldiers Club for Diana Wolfe & The Black Sheep. Diana was another winner: very charismatic and fun, and singing very danceable blues and jazz standards.

I left partway through her set to see a trio called Damn Fine Gentlemen in the park next door. They were a heavier rockin’ sound, with some interesting lyrics on some original songs, but the singer’s vocals left me wanting more. So I went back to see the rest of Diana Wolfe’s set.

After a fantastic dinner we stopped into a club with a large house band whose name I didn’t catch, but who were a little too sweaty and full-on for me. We decided to pop over to the Bowling Club to catch Hat Fitz & Cara Robinson. And I’m so glad we did, because they were amazing. Deep delta slide blues, some heavy UK rock-blues influence, and even some Celtic fluting. I got them on video doing a dynamic version of Blind Willie Johnson’s “Nobody’s Fault But Mine”.

On Sunday some of the singers we’d seen on the previous day – including Diana Wolfe – did a gospel song service in the park that was a pleasant way to start the morning.

After that we caught Halfway to Forth, two brothers from Tasmania – now in Adelaide – who really impressed me with their soulful harmonising, guitar skills, and laid-back blues and reggae tunes.

As I said: to see all these shows for free – and we could have done many more – was absolutely fantastic. There was so much authentic blues, so much Australian talent, and such a good atmosphere around the whole town, that I’d easily return and recommend it to any roots music fan. Way to go, Goulburn.

We gave opening band Icehouse a miss. I’ve never been a big fan of them. I thought it best to leave them to the Aussie fans who adore them. My mate and I had a couple of beers and caught up instead.

We timed our arrival perfectly, getting into the Entertainment Centre and finding our seats just moments before the headline duo took the stage.

I’ll be honest: the first half of the show was pretty average. Darryl Hall’s voice took a few songs to warm up, and by doing a couple of big songs early – “Maneater” first, and “Out of Touch” third – I think they squandered a bit of impact. They played a couple of older songs that I’m sure the true fans loved but that I don’t care for (e.g., “Family Man”), and John Oates songs that – c’mon, let’s be fair – aren’t as compelling.

But either the drinks I’d had kicked in or they loosened up as they went (or maybe both) but things got better toward the end. The encores, especially, hit home and had many of us up and dancing. “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)” was quite cool. “Private Eyes” had us clapping, too. The joy that the crowd felt in the last parts of the set was infectious, and really fun to be part of.

Those songs are truly great, and Darryl and John are a great writing and singing duo. The band was fine too. But Hall & Oates isn’t a good act for stadium venues like this: you lose a lot in that space and distance. They are, in essence, an R&B vocal duo, and our nostalgic love for them was probably all that got them over the pass line by the end.

I don’t know any of the artists that are playing but most shows are free. I expect pleasant surprises.

Back in the ’80s I belonged to mail-order music club Columbia House. I belonged several times, in fact; the presumptive plan was to join for their massive “several albums for a penny” entry deal, fulfil the minimum commitment of a few albums at full cost plus shipping, then quit and join again. I was with them during tapes, and remained during the CD era for a little while.

At some point I somehow picked up a self-titled album by a band called The Front. I don’t remember how I chose it. I knew nothing about the band. But I enjoyed the album. It was fairly cheesy hard rock. It was very close to The Cult, but with some slower grooves – plus a singer’s voice – that are a lot like The Doors. I played it a lot.

I never did learn any more about The Front. Eventually I got rid of the CD. I think I might have traded it to my brother for something, I’m not sure.

But I’ve thought about the album a lot over the years. As the Internet grew in scale I would occasionally look for it. But I never found anything. There were a couple of obscure bands with that name, it seems.

That changed this morning.

I did a Grooveshark search for The Front, and the second song it brought up was called “In The Garden”. That immediately triggered a memory of a track from the album I had. Sure enough, it was a song from that now fondly-remembered album.

From there I was able to find more songs, including that whole first album, which I’ve playlisted on Grooveshark. God, it’s cheesy. Awesomely, nostalgic-ly cheesy. I also found out that The Front were from Kansas City, and (clearly) had a short, obscure career. They renamed themselves Baker’s Pink, and the singer eventually went solo. I’m not going to bother with any of that. I’m just going to jam to the awesomeness of listening to these songs and pretending I’m a teenager listening to them for the first time.

Quantum computing is using the seemingly-odd behaviour of quantum mechanics to do computations in parallel, thereby multiplying computing speeds.

Some dudes have written a paper about research they’re doing into whether quantum computers could do calculations in the cloud securely.

That is pretty seriously cool.

It was at the Opera House. It started with a drum piece, IIII, created by some of the drummers that also perform with Zinner. It’s also based on Four Seasons. There were a couple of dozen percussionists and two synth players, all arranged in the round. And my god, it was a thundering, impressive bit of playing. The rhythms weren’t super complicated – I imagine that would be hard with such an ensemble – but they were mesmerising. There was a lot of heavy crunch from the synths, of the sort that the Brooklyn bands have been producing in the last couple of years. It was cool and heavy and jubilant and compelling. I loved it.

Then came Zinner, his 40 other stringed accompanists (including a large contingent from the Australia Youth Orchestra) and a few drums. The four pieces were a blend of classic and contemporary – the lead guitar unmistakable Yeah Yeah Yeahs sound – and none were dull. In reflection perhaps it could have had more slow, quiet pieces. But it was certainly a big, lush sound, and one that was easy to engage with.

I liked both pieces, but I think that IIII affected me more. There’s something about that many drums, that much booming rhythm, that affects me primally.

Neither work instrumental work overstays its welcome; the whole show was over in 90 minutes, including an intermission. But that worked for me. Any longer would have devolved into stuffiness.

First was Asa, whose gentle, jazzy set was pretty average for the first few songs. But the groove and impact picked up as she went on. Her soulful songs – part R&B, part rock – became catchier and punchier. And she’s irresistibly likeable herself: she dances, she plays the trumpet, she chats with the front row, and she looks like a funky librarian.

Soon followed Féfé. He and his band were fun from the start. They play hip-hop with lots of pop and funk. And he will not leave the crowd alone: the (moderately obliging) assembled listeners had to do our fair share of hand waving, clapping, jumping, singing, running left and right, and screaming. That almost all of the songs were in French was fine. Between Féfé and his DJ there was lots of energy going on, and the point was clear: have fun.

The first act – which I did not know about – was of a style called Shangaan Electro, hyper-fast electro dance from South Africa. The group of four dancers and singers, and one DJ, carried on the most hyperkinetic dancing I’ve ever seen for a solid 30 minutes. It was dizzying and tiring to watch. The dancers moved with such joy you couldn’t look away; it also helped that the men wore orange jumpsuits with ridiculously fake beer bellies. The beats flew at breakneck speed. It became almost psychedelic.

The main acts, collectively named Band of Gypsies, were comprised of Romanian folk troupe Taraf de Haïdouks and Macedonian brass band Kočani orkestar. They played song after song of gypsy music: wild violins, three accordions, tubas, clarinets, and lots more. It was a Balkan/middle eastern/Slavic/Latin amalgam of high-energy Romani epics. Bows were flying, fingers were snapping, trumpets were blaring. Everyone took their solos, and a few would occasionally sing. It was irrepressibly jubilant. It was the gypsy spirit.

It’s hard for me to imagine seeing either of these sort of acts here at any other time. Way to go, Sydney Festival.

I didn’t get up to Woodford, but I did notice that those Canadian acts were doing a Newfoundland showcase night at the tiny Notes venue here in Newtown (which has a tradition of booking folk and roots acts), on their way out of Oz. So last night I got the chance to see several Canadian acts – all new to me – for just $15, and ten minutes from home. As a certain Mr. Sheen would say: winning.

Ron Hynes

I dragged along a few Aussie friends, snagged one of the last tables, and settled in for some listening. Seven acts played, pretty much non-stop through the evening.

I came in most of the way through the first set, by a couple of members of The Dardenelles. Very quiet, very pretty guitar tunes.

Next was Ennis, a group taking the surname of centrepiece sisters Maureen and Karen. The Celtic influence started in earnest here. They played some guitar and mandolin songs, harmonised as sisters can, told a few jokes, and brought out a sheet of plywood for some stepdancing.

Dwayne & Duane followed: that’s be Cape Breton fiddler Dwayne Coté and Newfie guitarist Duane Andrews. Things jumped up a notch at this point. Both were impressive masters of their instruments, especially Coté. They ranged all over the place, playing Irish reels and Django Reinhardt swing. Very cool.

Ron Hynes was next, and was the only name I sort of knew. He’s been recording since 1972, and is a minor legend in Canadian folk circles. Maybe a major legend if you count the people who know he wrote “Sonny’s Dream”, a very popular Atlantic Canadian tune (also the last song he played, and the only one of the night that some crowd members could sing along to). But I thought his best song was “Dry”. Hynes is one of those guys who must be a great songwriter, because neither he nor his voice are pretty (cf. Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Tom Waits).

Richard Wood is a fiddler from PEI; he was accompanied last night by guitarist and singer (and fellow Islander) Gordon Belsher. They brought a lot of energy to the night, with upbeat fiddle folk-pop. We were initially concerned by Woods’ Nickelback-hair-and-tight-pants look, but he delivered the musical goods. Anyone riffing Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” into a folk night is alright by me.

Next was The Once. They had both feet firmly planted in the Irish sea shanty tradition. Singer Geraldine Hollett had a forceful but calming delivery, and the group harmonised exceptionally well. They also played one of my very favourite songs by the great Stan Rogers, “The Maid On The Shore”.

Last was Sherman Downey & The Silver Lining. They were a full-on folk rock band. They were smooth and catchy and laid back, just a bunch of guys having fun playing songs. And they had an electric banjo, which is kinda cool.

Way to go, Newfies. You put on a super show. And you made me pretty homesick for a night.