The final night of the Jazz Fest the crowd was somewhat light. I was surprised, it being so nice out and a Saturday night. It did pick up a bit later but not by much.

My first stop was at the Jazz Street Stage to see The Lawnmowers. The band is mostly made up of veteran musicians of the local reggae scene, and I looked forward to finally getting to see it. The band didn't disappoint. The Lawnmowers play music of a high quality in a genre that can easily be distorted and monotonous, and it was the perfect sound to end a sweltering day. An accordion was an unconventional yet interesting addition. The band did a moving cover of Clapton's "Presence of the Lord." I'm glad it's a local outfit and I'll certainly check them out again.

Truth or dare, and I'll take truth. Truth is that I was supposed to go down to East and Alexander and cover Smash Mouth, but at this late in the fest I just didn't have the energy to walk that far from the main games. My gams were aching. I hopped around the corner to Chestnut & East and caught James Hunter; I think it was my favorite show of the fest, although it certainly was not jazz, and not unique in the international way of some of the other acts. It was like 50's doo-wop, do the stroll, bluesy rock ‘n' roll. Like the Ink Spots doing sexy cool.

Hunter taught his guitar "Who's your daddy?" and his organ player showed it who's boss. As for the horns (Damian Hand on tenor sax, don't know who the other one was), the angel Gabriel would have been on his knees crying for mercy. Hunter is incredible, playing with such passion and power, gyrating like James Brown, even while the sweat was running off all of us in the heat.

My friend wanted to buy a CD and have it signed, something Hunter said he'd be doing after the show. We went to the volunteer office to ask where that would happen. They sent us to the merchandise tent. The Merch Tent didn't know anything about it and sent us to Information. Information's response was, "I don't know." Do you know anyone you can ask? "I don't know." Hey, the answer was just, "I don't know." I HATE that! No, "Hey, let me check, let me see if I can find out." No, "Let me try to help you in any way." It all begins and ends in, "I don't know." Period. As no one could tell us where to buy a cd, much less where to get it signed, we walked away empty handed. Bummer.

Last stop was the little tent at Abilene to check out Mark Stuart & the Bastard Sons. Great band, but I was fading. Apparently everyone else was too. The venue was about a quarter full and I heard it was just a bit more for the first set. Nine days is a long time...