The final Mission Creek journal from our dear friend, Sam Edsill…

Music lovers of Iowa City, you disappoint me. Yes, you turned out in droves for Cursive. You flocked by the carload 60 miles east for Spoon. And hardly another body could be wedged onto the Picador’s dance floor for Dan Deacon. But sadly, so many deserving bands were left playing to virtually empty houses: Brighton, MA, Neva Dinova, and, on the final night of the festival, the amazing Miles Nielson (more to come on that note). Perhaps I am holding you to an unattainable standard by asking you to show up in droves for each worthy artist that wanders through. After all, you can’t be everywhere. And to be fair, I couldn’t resist the chance to see Spoon and Cursive. But it is a shame that great bands, which on any other night would have drawn huge crowds, were left behind for the Big Names. I guess that’s just the nature of the music festival beast.

Saturday night began in earnest, again, at The Mill, this time with…

Illinois John Fever: The Mill

Lute Tucker and Chris Doherty, who together form the dirty delta blues outfit Illinois John Fever, are furious performers. Sweat poured from Tucker’s brow as he sang songs about death, voodoo, broken hearts, cheating hearts, lonely hearts, and the divine. Doherty provided accompaniment on a stripped-down drum kit. Think of old-time bluesmen like Taj Mahal or Mississippi John Hurt, then crank up the velocity and volume, and you might have something approaching IJF.

As previously reported here on Mission Freak, and announced by Doherty during a 5-minute audience chat while Tucker replaced a broken guitar string, the duo are launching their own record label, Transnational Records, based on their pack-up-and-go, no-electricity-required ethos.

Baby Teeth: The Picador

I arrived at the Picador just in time to catch the end of DJ duo Porno Galactica and Zap!Rowsdower, who had apparently invited the crowd onstage to party with them. The place was slowly filling up with concert-goers anticipating Dan Deacon, though I was psyching myself up for Chicago’s Baby Teeth, who have spent to much time in Iowa City over the past two years that they may well have become residents.

Singer Abraham Levitan arrived at the merch table in time to sell a few CDs and chitchat with the fans. He’s one of the friendliest people you’re likely to meet, and will talk to you for as long as you’ve got time. Last summer he embarked on an ambitious songwriting project dubbed “52 Teeth”: Levitan writes and records a brand new song every week for one whole year (he’s on #41).

Baby Teeth plays a brand of synth music that demands you move your feet, with roots firmly in ‘70s rock and disco: Queen, Joe Tex, The Bee-Gees. It’s a band that must be seen live to truly appreciate.

In what Honest Abe dubbed “career suicide,” the trio from Chi-Town played a set of almost entirely new songs, many from his blog project. But it didn’t matter: bodies were moved, and faces were melted by Levitan’s furious synth soloing.

Afterwards, I talked to drummer Peter Andreadis about the possibility of a new album, which he said was likely within the year, depending on how soon they could get into the studio. At the least, we’ll have some new tasty offerings with the band’s Daytrotter session due out in a few weeks.

Miles Nielson: The Mill

Back at Ye Olde Mill, Miles Nielson and a few boys from The Wandering Sons (billed as Miles Nielson/Her Majesty’s Ships), were delivering an amazing set to the regulars sitting at the bar. The room was virtually empty. My girl and I grabbed a booth and a beer, and sat down to watch. They sounded good, with Nielson’s voice just raw enough for rock, and just melodious enough for pop.

Two songs in and I’m tapping my feet, mouthing, “these guys are good!” across the table. And just at that moment, when this excellent band was playing to a mere dozen people, the quartet decided to have a little fun. The Beatles covers started coming.

“Don’t Let Me Down.” “It’s Getting Better All The Time.” “Something.” All note-perfect. Then Tom Petty. Even Good Charlotte’s “Gravity Girl.”

By two and three, people started coming in to watch. Not fans who paid, as nobody was there to take cover, just regular bar patrons drawn to the back for a great show. The crowd had doubled by the time the band broke into an unbelievable dual-cover, Cheap Trick’s “I Want You To Want Me” melding into The Beatles’ “Help!”

The clock was nearing 1:30, and the two of us were exhausted from the whole weekend. We grabbed our things to leave, and as we were almost out the door, we heard Nielson’s voice…

“Let’s just have some fun, you guys. This next one’s by Marvin Gaye.”

As the lead in notes to “Let’s Get It On” rang out, we found ourselves unable to leave. The moment was too right, the band too good. We dashed back and danced, grooved, let ourselves go, to a show which should have been crowded with people, but now, blissfully, belonged to us.

Farewell, Mission Creek 2008. It’s been a swell ride.