In the summer of 1970, a concert promoter who successfully brought John Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band to Toronto had a crazy idea. What if I rent a train, fill it with big musical acts and travel to five Canadian cities to play outdoor stadium shows, all within a week or so?
The result was the Festival Express tour. Towering influences like Janis Joplin & Buddy Guy and notable groups like The Grateful Dead & The Band eagerly climbed onboard a CN train and had way more fun riding the rails than they ever did on stage.
A film crew was hired to cover the entire experience but a lawsuit kept the footage out of public view for years. It wasn’t until the 90s when some 30 hours of film was re-discovered in huge piles of silver cans. But it would take another decade for some of that material to finally be screened in theatres. (Additional footage would surface as bonus features on Blu-ray.)
Finally available in 2004, Festival Express the movie marries some of the previously unseen footage with contemporary interviews of some of the key, surviving players. With the exception of the promoter, everyone has positive memories of the experience.
In between stellar live performances captured during all-day shows in Toronto, Calgary and Winnipeg (planned stops in Montreal and Vancouver never happened), we witness numerous performers bonding on the train through drinking, puffing, laughing and jamming. In one scene, The Grateful Dead’s Jerry Garcia declares his love for Joplin after The Band’s Rick Danko leads a sing-a-long. Afterwards, Joplin flirts with Danko. The party never stops until there’s a show to perform. There are no arguments, no visible tension (although Kenny Gradney, who looks like a young, late 70s Prince, is the only one who raises his voice).
There were also no showers on the train and there was hardly any sleep but no one wanted the tour to end. You get the feeling all the bands would’ve been perfectly happy to never leave the bar car. But at one point, they have to. They very quickly run out of booze. The hard-nosed promoter orders the train conductor to make an unscheduled stop at the nearest liquor store.
During the Toronto gig, however, there’s trouble. A small group of cheapskates protest the $14 ticket price for the show demanding it should be free. They even attack a police horse. Today’s concertgoers would probably laugh at such whining considering the hundreds of dollars they spend on current festivals. To try to calm them down, The Dead perform a free concert in a nearby park. There is deep irony in the scene where these normally anti-authority hippie performers, angered by the backlash, defend the police.
By the time the tour reaches Winnipeg, even the mayor of that city is demanding the impossible which leads to a remarkable anecdote by the promoter. When the mayor insisted on no cover charge, he punched him right in the face. Too bad that scene isn’t in the movie.
Festival Express runs briskly at just under 90 minutes and as a result, feels way too short. There are no bad songs. Even the train jams are cool and unique. How often does Buddy Guy’s fly bassist get to scream out a vocal take? Never again would all of these musicians find themselves in the same place at the same time enjoying the freedom and luxury such an event would afford them. Janis Joplin would tragically die a few months after its conclusion.
Because the Festival Express was riding through Canada, Toronto’s Ian & Sylvia Tyson are invited to participate. Sylvia looked like a young Linda Ronstadt while echoing Grace Slick’s hiccupy vocals. Despite not being nearly as famous as their American counterparts, their folk-country rock fits right in. The free-spirited train jamming spills over onto the stage as certain acts cheerfully blend together for specific songs.
Of all the stage performances, none tops the Buddy Guy Blues Band. During his riveting riffing on Barrett Strong’s Money, you understand immediately why Hendrix worshipped him. At one point during his impeccable soloing, he’s lowered down to the crowd’s level where he wails away next to a security fence. While other acts are featured more than once, the film should’ve included a lot more of his performances. (The Blu-ray features a very good outtake of Hoochie Coochie Man.)
Beyond Touch Of Grey, I’ve never been a Deadhead but Jerry Garcia and company’s performance in this movie has made me expand my appreciation for their legacy a little bit more. Forgoing the endless jams of their psychedelic origins for more tighter arrangements, based on the three songs they play you can see why they were a popular live act. The Band does a fine take on their best known song, The Weight, while also offering decent covers of Bob Dylan’s I Shall Be Released and Little Richard’s Slippin’ And Slidin’. And it really doesn’t matter what Janis Joplin sings, she’s always compelling even if she’s a little pitchy on the chorus of Cry Baby. All the lesser-known acts hold their own, as well.
When it all comes to an end, because of the protests, the Festival Express tour is a financial disappointment. Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t get into specific numbers so we don’t really know how much money was actually lost (Wikipedia says it was a half a million) and it avoids getting too deep into the lawsuit dilemma. Still bitter decades later, the promoter grumbles that the people didn’t really deserve to see all this talent in one show.
But Festival Express the movie doesn’t want to bum you out, it wants you to join the party. It wants you to understand firsthand why this was such an enjoyable experience for the musicians. (Too bad Traffic, Mountain and Ten Years After, who also appeared on the tour, are kept off-camera.) It captures a loose, carefree period in rock history before greedy, sanitized corporatization would start to ruin it. There is welcome comraderie among the performers that begins on the train and continues on stage but sadly, would immediately dissipate as all went their separate career paths.
Two shots by the original crew perfectly capture the metaphorical spirit of the times. One shows the train whipping by so quickly it’s a blur. And the other shows a track that looks like the longest four-string bass guitar you’ve ever seen.
The impression is unmistakable. Now how about a sequel?
Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Thursday, June 21, 2018
5:57 p.m.
THE WRITINGS OF DENNIS EARL 