Going Country BeachLife Ranch takes me home

by Gavin Heaney

It’s okay to go country whenever you want, and however you like. You can identify as country forever, or for a weekend. It is our American heritage, and it’s free for the taking. Many before have appropriated the accent and donned the cowboy hat, but it’s not about the fixin’s, it’s about the feel. That twang, that bend, or slide that’s longing, and yearning with heartache to capture the bittersweet goodness of it all, every last drop. 

The Beachlife Ranch Festival is hardly, strictly country. It’s a hybrid strain and if it’s somehow watered down from a standard lineup, it’s with the cool water of the local Pacific Ocean, and the steam that’s rising is refreshingly original, a smokey blend of a new tradition.

Jack Johnson’s performance on Friday night was just the catalyst for this change of state. It seemed like the entire South Bay was swaying together to his mellow, bouncy sound waves. Jack, ever clad in a T-shirt, and flip-flops sang, and told stories all night like he was at a family cookout. Favorites like “Flake,” “Bubble Toes,” and “Better Together” were chorused by the crowd and backed by his longtime bandmates Adam Topol, Merlo and Zach Gill. Gill sang harmonies, and played every incarnation of keys, from piano to accordion to melodica. He could play a piano tie if it made music, and his animated hijinks brought a carney cheer to the show. Jack blew on beer bottles to boot. It was like being at an Isla Vista backyard party, ad-lib and intimate. 

“My dad sailed to Hawaii from this harbor,” Johnson told the crowd, before playing “I Got You,”  one of his endearing love songs, which he dedicated to his parents. “I think about him every time I fly over that ocean, out there by himself. He learned to sail on that trip.” 

Jack brought up his dad’s best friend from Manhattan Beach, Peff Eick, to perform Jimmy Buffett’s “Pirate Looks at Forty,” a song Eick taught a teenage Jack on guitar. It was the closest thing to a country song of his set. Then he brought up just a few more friends, including  Donovan Frankenreiter, and The Avett Brothers, who both performed earlier in the day. They improvised a medley of “Kids” by MGMT into Bob Dylan’s “I Shall Be Released” in a heartfelt finale.

Brothers Comatose

On Saturday in the hot midday sand, another band of brothers took the Lowlands stage. The Brothers Comatose, a crackerjack bluegrass outfit from San Francisco, reveled in the dayshift with their modern classic Americana. It would be interesting to poll all the Ranch artists and discover who, like John Fogerty before them, has adopted the southern drawl, but you’d never doubt band leader and guitarist Ben Morrison was from Appalachia.

 “I’m afraid this next song will make some of you hate us,” he said, while introducing a brand-new song. “But we have to draw a line in the sand on this one. We’re from San Francisco and we hate IPA!”

They exploded into a hilarious, high-speed rant on expensive craft beer, opting for good old sappy standbys PBR, Coors and Modelo. Later, I sheepishly sipped my non-alcoholic IPA backstage with the band while we were treated to rocker haircuts by local stylist to the stars Joel Silva, who was onsite pruning the performers. Silva owns Salon 6 Degrees in Manhattan Beach, and has attended every BeachLife Festival. 

“I love our community events,” he said. “Beachlife is an incredible space for both music lovers and musicians to connect. It’s so great seeing friends, and clients, and of course meeting, and working with incredible artists. These folks deserve a hand for their hard work bringing this rodeo to Redondo.” 

Festival founder Allen Sanford and his posse of regulators, Katie Henley, JP Cordero and Sam Meyers, are the backbone crew of BeachLife, and were lovingly lampooned on mock old Western wanted posters at the festival entrance.

Larkin Poe

Larkin Poe’s live show might be the most exciting thing happening in rock n’ roll right now. They are dangerously talented. “Hallelujah!” was sung with the sisters Lovell, who stoked the heat strokes with their heavy rotation of Southern rock and blues overdrive guitar, and lap steel shredding. They burned down the borders between country and hard rock. I was dazed by these young, smiling women with their thunderous sound, and sly, stoner rock swagger. 

“This music is not possible without the blues,” lead singer Rebecca Lovell informed as she gave tribute to one such influence, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. Rebecca belts a soulful, bluesy baritone, which is as astounding as the raw power of Larkin Poe’s instruments.

Ranch life

Collaboration is a centerpiece at BeachLife, and its most exciting element. The artists hang around, and jam, and sit in on each other’s sets. Shooter Jennings embodies this spirit with his revolving cast of players who pay tribute to his father, the legendary Waylon Jennings. Ragtag but real, Shooter offers a glimpse into real-time music making. The show is bumpy because it is so quickly turned around. But that allows fans to see how different artists bring it together in a lively, and unrehearsed way. This time they paid tribute to country all-star band The Highwaymen. Some of the guests included The White Buffalo, Highwoman Amanda Shires (the festival’s official ‘Sad Eyed Lady of The Lowlands’), and Charlie Star of Blackberry Smoke, who sang possibly the most beautiful song of the weekend, “Live Forever.” He tore tears from my eyes as I watched my wife dancing with my son in the sandy sunlight. I felt like one lucky son of a gun as he serenaded us, picking his acoustic guitar:

You fathers and you mothers

Be good to one another

Please try to raise your children right

Don’t let the darkness take ’em

Don’t make ’em feel forsaken

Just lead ’em safely to the light

The BeachLife Festival has supported all levels of musical artists, from tenderfoots to top hands. This year’s village elders included The Doobie Brothers, and Marshall Tucker Band, who both celebrated 50 years of performing live onstage. The Doobies delighted the dancing crowd with their smooth, funky, jazzy jams, nearly bringing a yacht rock vibe as they counted down to a finale of unmistakable classic hits — “China Grove”, “Black Water”, “Long Train Runnin’” and “Listen To The Music” — all performed with the expertise of hard-earned experience. Marshall Tucker likewise brought their iconic blend of jazz flute, and southern blues guitar with the legendary songs “Can’t You See”, “Fire On The Mountain” and a nearly 20-minute instrumental jam with a nod to Jimi Hendrix. They were like a time capsule from 1972. “Put something on it!” cried 75-year-old original member, and singer Doug Gray as he enlisted the crowd to clap and sing along. “You come down to Myrtle Beach, and I’ll buy you a drink, BeachLife.” 

Newer Southern rockers Blackberry Smoke continue this tradition, and proved that the best rock musicians have been hiding out in country bands, and jamming at country music festivals.

Saturday night climaxed in a balls-out performance by Cody Jinks. He might be something of a newer name in country music, but he is sure to leave his mark. Jinks slinks like a desert snake under his black hat, sunglasses, and beard, and exudes pitch-black satin cool. His level voice imparts words of weary wisdom with a certainty that is badass to the bone. His band The Tone Deaf Hippies are hardly peaceful, but rather a band of renegade rockers hitting country so hard it feels illicit. 

“You gotta be all the way crazy to do this for a living,” he confessed to the crowd as he began playing “Same Kind Of Crazy As Me,” one of his clever, catchy songs, which tell tales of bad men on the run from their own minds. His songs “Somewhere In The Middle,” “Mama Song,” and “I’m Not The Devil ” each delivered his outlier truths. He seemed to like the view from the Highlands stage, performing country-styled Faith No More and Social Distortion covers. He later gave a rowdy dismissal of the proselytizing protesters outside the festival. “F… Off! Don’t waste my time with your picket signs,” he ranted, verbalizing what most were thinking, as he went into a swingy, soulful country blues version of “Cast No Stones,” which the captive crowd sang along in call and response:

I cast no stones

What gives you the right

To tell me my business

Good God, man, you’re out of your mind

So put up your Bible

Oh, let me get mine

I’m not dragging the whole world to hell

You’re wasting my time

“Can I get an amen?” Jinks bellowed. His outspokenness was welcomed by those who finally got to pour out everything they have bottled up. The set wound up with throngs singing along with “Must Be The Whiskey” into “Hippies and Cowboys,” which had a happier honky tonk swagger. Then Jinks picked up a phone from the crowd and filmed himself as he sang the final chorus to “Loud and Heavy,” giving a fan the selfie of a lifetime. The band continued jamming as he left the stage, escalating into a swirling Hotel California-style harmonic guitar, and pedal steel tornado. Undoubtedly something wicked and wonderful this way had come.

Chris Isaak

Chris Isaak was a cool breeze of sonic tremolo Sunday night with his surfy blend of 50s-style rockabilly. 

“You don’t always know what you’ll get at an outdoor show,” he said. “But this moment is just perfect.” 

The sun was setting into the golden hour as he crooned his inimitable, surreal siren song “Wicked Game,” which still has the power to make your hair stand on end. He wore a classic, baby blue Nudie suit as he sang “Blue Hotel,” a song that is as timeless as rock n’ roll itself. After a wardrobe change into a gleaming disco ball suit, he belted out “Baby Did A Bad, Bad Thing,” displaying his remarkable vocal range from rock-bottom bass to heavenly highs. He has somehow trademarked holding out his vocal notes for longer than humanly possible. The style  Isaak embodies can only come from a past life. It seems to have chosen him, maybe even haunted him. You can sense the spirits in his songs. As the sun finally slipped under the palms, the evening crowd moseyed down to Midland at The Lowlands Stage. 

“I can’t believe they have a country music fest in Redondo Beach,” said Midland singer Mark Wystrach. Their country radio favorite, “Drinking Problem,” could easily be mistaken for an Eagles song and Midland have taken up the same reins of smooth ‘70s soft rock country grooves. “We’ve waited our whole lives to be in this situation, and once you get us on stage, it’s hard to get us off,” he chortled. “We Love LA!”

The festival closed with Brad Paisley. He is one guitar-slinging workhorse whose skill on his instrument is on point with his singing. Nearly every other frontman of the festival shied away from soloing and merely strummed, but Paisley traded off lyrics and guitar riffs symbiotically, essentially doing two jobs at once. 

“You only get so many summers,” he reminded us in his song. I was filled with appreciation for being lucky enough once again to witness all of this amazing live music happening here, in my hometown.

The only person luckier than me was the little girl in a pink cowboy hat at the edge of the stage whom Paisley handed down his Fender Squire to.

“She’s gonna break hearts and write songs,” he predicted before singing:

So turn it on, turn it up and sing along

This is real, this is your life in a song

Just like a road that takes you home

Yeah, this is right where you belong

This is country music

This is your country and your music. You deserve it right here at home however you want to have it. BeachLife Ranch brought the music home for us again this year.