Mumford and Sons Dixon Gentlemen of the Road adventure

I had a five hour long car trip home, and that was just about enough time to replay the concert experience in my mind, so this is going to be ridiculously long. Warning: if you do not like offensive language, just please stop reading now. It was a Mumford & Sons concert and the topic is bound to come up.

My Gentlemen of the Road experience began on Friday when I drove from O'Fallon, IL to Mundelein to reunite with my college friend, Julie. When I originally started plotting to attend, I tried to convince my sister, Michelle, to join, but she had strong, practical reasons for saying no. My next thought was, "Who lives somewhere in that roundabout area who likes Mumford & Sons and concerts?" It was a no-brainer. Her last name is "Dickson" after all. I think around 17 years had passed since we last spent quality time together, but you'd never know it from the way that we just picked right up again. We hung out, talked, and played Fruit Ninja on XBox Kinect with her husband. Oddly enough, we stopped playing because our arms just did not have the stamina to sustain spider-monkey-fruit-ninja skills for long. This became ironic after we spent 4 hours straight clapping and fist-pumping the next night.

The true Gentlemen of the Road experience in Dixon, IL involved camping. When I first got my tickets, I thought I was crazy enough to attend an all-day concert in Northern Illinois in AUGUST. Camping was definitely out of the question. Or so I thought. John and Julie put me up in a pop-up camper so I would not wake at 6 a.m. to 3 children loudly whispering, "Is that Mommy's friend?" I was very grateful. Later, when I talked to someone who did camp out, I was especially grateful. He said the campers were up all night singing. Yeah, that probably would have been fun if I was in my twenties. The guy who told me this was not in his twenties either and he was fading fast.

Saturday morning, Julie and I made the 2-hour trip to Dixon. Julie knew I was under strict orders from my sister to get lots of pictures and remember loads of details (you can blame her for this looooong blog post), and she encouraged it. We weren't even in Dixon yet when we saw beautiful, white, fluffy clouds straight out of The Simpsons' opening scene. Julie pulled over so I could take a picture when we saw this weird smoke stack that looked like it was the thing manufacturing the clouds. Yup, not even in Dixon yet.

Once in Dixon (11:00 a.m.?), we stopped at the local Wal-mart for a potty break and a Dr. Pepper.  Priorities, people! Let me tell you, the town of Dixon was ready for all of the Mumford & Sons fans. They brought in extra staff to work at Wal-mart that day. They were in there in their navy shirts and khaki pants, just waiting for fans to walk in and ask questions. You would have thought that my quest for Dr. Pepper was the most important thing in the world to them, and I was not even the most easily identified "out-of-towner." I have never seen so many skinny white chicks walking around wearing fedoras and hippy dresses. Seriously. Dr. Pepper located, Julie and I back-tracked for photos of the Welcome to Dixon sign.  Yes, because we are that dorky (and proud of it!)

We got there and slathered on sunscreen, walked through town and visited the Farmer's Market, ate some cheeseburgers and wandered over to Page Park (2:00?). Our plan was to skip out on Abigail Washburn and go directly to the main stage where The Apache Relay would play first and Mumford & Sons would be later. This was a good plan. No, this was a great plan, considering we were two women without a plan that day. We found an open spot, close enough for our liking. It was open because it was a gigantic patch of dirt in the bright sunshine, and everyone else was trying to grab grass or shade. I brought a yellow rain poncho with me--blankets were not allowed, but no one questions a poncho (Michelle, this was yours from the great rain-out at Six Flags). We put that down on the ground and then took turns going to get drinks and visit the bathroom (banks of port-a-potties with really good hand-washing facilities).

The Apache Relay were great. (4:30) They perform really well live. They did "American Nomad," "Sets Me Free" and "Lost Kid." They played a song or two more, but I can't remember. One of the horns players from M&S's band came out to play with them. Between him and the bearded guy shredding on the guitar and the energy of the lead singer, it was a great show. The only disappointment was they only played for 30 minutes.

Then, we stayed put and waited for Nathaniel Rateliff, who was due to play a half hour later. Julie took this opportunity to run to the bathroom. In the meantime, I chatted with the couple in front of me. Before I knew it, everyone stood up and moved forward. I grabbed our stuff and moved too. That put us closer to the stage, but how would Julie find me? I balled up the yellow rain poncho and held it up above my head. She reached me in time for the show. The show...Ok...Nathaniel Rateliff and his crew are very talented singer/song-writers. They're just not what one wants to hear when camped out for an all-day music fest. The songs were beautiful, but I think Julie fell asleep while standing up somewhere in the middle of his set. Then, Ben Lovett and Russell Holmes from Mumford & Sons came out. That certainly woke me up! The clouds didn't clear for Julie until the end-of-set applause, I think. (Cut her a break, she's usually up at 3:30 a.m. on Saturdays!)

By this time-- 6:00-ish-- we all stood for a while, waiting to see if anyone was going to clear out to go to Dawes. I enjoy Dawes' music, but as I told another concert-goer, I had my eye on the prize. I was not about to give up my spot to wander over to the second stage if it meant that I would be in this same spot still when Mumford & Sons performed. (In fact, I was never even in sight of the second stage yesterday) Barely anyone moved. Julie and I put our poncho back down on the ground and enjoyed getting off our feet for a while. We offered to share our little scrap of real estate with two girls who had joined the crowd, hoping to get good spots for Gogol Bordello. Sarah and Danelle became instant friends as we chatted about the past Gogol Bordello show that Sarah had been to (complete with a warning that we were probably safely outside the mosh-pit zone). I talked about my past Mumford concert at the Ryman and the botched performances of both "Thistles and Weeds" and "Dust Bowl Dance." Julie decided it was probably safe to take one last trip to the bathroom. Not two minutes later, the crowd stood up and pushed forward a little again. Good news for proximity. Bad news for Julie. I stood in my best imitation of the Statue of Liberty with my yellow poncho beacon aloft. You know you've met an instant friend when someone offers to take up that same pose because she's taller and Julie would be able to see her better. Sarah did so, while I offered to let Danelle call home on my cell phone. (Thank you, Verizon and my "dumb phone"-- I was the only one with cell phone service that day). Julie rejoined us at about 7:10. Gogol Bordello was scheduled for 7:20.
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Julie looked a little traumatized. She said, emphatically, "Do NOT try to go out there." She said the lines were crazy, and the hand-washing stations were out of water. She later told me that she had to sort of push her way to us, apologizing all the way, saying, "But I need to get to my friend. See her? She's the yellow rain poncho!" At this point, I needed to face some serious facts. My bladder and I had to have a serious conversation. (I don't usually talk to my bladder, but this is how very serious I was) I said, "Bladder, I know you haven't been to the bathroom since around 4:00 or so. Please, please, please hang on until 11:00. I will stop as many times on the road trip home as you want...just please let me keep this spot for the whole Mumford show!" Bladder didn't say anything. It merely silently acquiesced. It remained silent until somewhere toward the end of the Mumford show when it screamed at me, "You fool! Quit jumping around like you are twenty-something! Remember, you have stressed me out via three pregnancies!" At this point, my two sports bras also piped up. (They don't usually talk at all) They said, "Seriously! You must listen to Bladder. Quit the jumping or we're going to talk to the small of your back, your aching knees, and your worn out feet, and we're going to unionize and go on strike!" But I am skipping way ahead....

 At 7:20, Gogol Bordello performed. They are a gypsy punk rock band. I was behind a wall of tall people, so I couldn't see much. Sarah provided some play-by-play from behind me. She told us when the lead singer was out in the crowd. He was crazy! My best comparison is to a live wire. The energy in the air was palpable. Some sort of Pavlovian response was in action, and there was no recourse except to fist-pump and shout, "Hey! Hey! Hey!" along with the group. There was no choice to just go along with it and dance. Tall guy #1 and Tall guy #2 were both jumping and fist pumping. (Tall guy #1 is otherwise known as "Unusually tall guy in yellow shirt" in my picture explanations) The people all around me were all dancing and/or jumping...except...for Stoic Girl. So named because the girl directly to my left did not move her feet, her shoulders, anything! during the whole Gogol performance. Later, I realized that she was behind Tall Guy #1 and near Overly Exuberant Man (more on him later). We jumped and danced our way all through that frenetic performance. They played "Mis Companjeros," "Immigranada," "Break the Spell," something else I could not identify, and then lead into "Start Wearing Purple" by introducing it with "We Don't Need No Education" (scariest song ev-er!). At the end of Gogol Bordello, I attempted to call Michelle, so she could feel the energy and craziness of Gogol Bordello. She accused me of butt-dialing. Besides, a portion of the energy had to have been due to the smoke in the atmosphere.

After Gogol Bordello finished, we turned around and the crowd behind us had multiplied and packed in. Unfortunately, so had the wall of tall people in front of me. Stoic Girl left her spot to my left to inch to the left of Tall Guy #1. This meant he was now in front of me! Then, Overly Exuberant Guy returned to his spot to the left of where Stoic Girl had been. This man was easily my dad's age (not that there is anything wrong with that, Dad). There is something wrong, however, about an overly exuberant man in his sixties shouting "Mumford and Sons!" while everyone was still applauding for Gogol Bordello. And there was definitely something wrong with Overly Exuberant Man pulling glow sticks and pre-packaged pocket shots out of his backpack and handing them to all of the young women in his vicinity. I was creeped out. My pack of (now three) concert buddies swore to protect me. They were also protecting me from the accidental entourage of Amazonian women who suddenly appeared to the right of Tall Guy #1. Seriously. Each of these women had to have been at least 5' 10" (not that there's anything wrong with that). But I have never wished to be taller than 5'4" so much in my whole life! I took the occasional periscope shot (camera in hands, arms straight in the air) to get pictures of the crowd around us and the stage to see what was going on. Then I checked the time on my cell phone incessantly because it was the only thing I could see, really.

Finally! Mumford & Sons at 8:50. They opened with "Lovers' Eyes" with lights down. The lights turned up partway through. My heart still thrills every time I hear that part of the song because they did the same thing when I saw them at The Ryman. I couldn't help but think of Michelle and our Ryman trip. Next was "Little Lion Man"-- the energy in the crowd went up a couple more notches. Then "I Will Wait"-- it was as beautiful in concert as it is in the official release. At this point, I couldn't help but call Michelle. Sidebar here: At previous concerts, I have raised an eyebrow or two at people calling others while at tremendously loud concerts and wondered what on earth they could possibly have to communicate with another human being at that precise moment in time. I now know. I called Michelle, but it was too late for her to hear any of "I Will Wait." In the relative hush in between songs, I was able to tell her what had played already and that I was going to let her hear part of the next song. By then, it was clear that it was "White Blank Page." She was able to hear the beginning as the WHOLE crowd sang the opening lines with Marcus.

Now, everyone who has heard Mumford & Sons knows that the banjo and the kick drum are part of M&S's signature. What true fans know is that "Har har" is every bit as much a signature part of Mumford & Sons as all of the rest of it. We har harred our hearts out to "White Blank Page." It was awesome. Or, as Marcus Mumford frequently says during shows. It was f***-ing awesome. During this whole time, I was singing and clapping my heart out and trying to dodge tall people for actual glimpses of the band. I was able to periscope to get quite a few pictures. My concert buddies were also able to snag my camera and get pictures for me. At some point, the batteries died. Fortunately, I had packed a spare set and left them in easy reach.  ("Roll Away Your Stone" was in here somewhere too)

I think "Timshel" was next. I have watched my fair share of Mumford YouTube videos. There's always the inevitable comment that stupid Americans should just shut up and enjoy the beauty of the song without singing along or hooting and hollering. In venues like The Ryman, I agree. Even so, find yourself in The Ryman with the rousing guitar strums mounting and try not to hoot or holler. The Dixon crowd sang every word along with and did so without shame or apology. It was awesome. Danelle was thrilled. She said it was her favorite.

Next (if I have the time order correct, and if I don't, who cares?) Danelle did the most amazing thing. She grabbed me by the arm and said, "Stand over here. I have a really good spot where you can see Marcus really well." She voluntarily traded spaces with me. A perfect stranger over 2 hours ago gave her spot to me so that I could see. I cried. I, Nicole Hancock, stoic through even the most heartfelt Hallmark Card commercial, cried at a Mumford & Sons concert. I'm tearing up now. I don't even know what song it was when she did this, but eventually, I do remember clearly looking through a gap in the people in front of me to see Marcus Mumford with blue backlight, gently strumming his guitar and softly singing during "Ghosts That We Knew." Danelle may have switched spots with me at the beginning of that song. It also wouldn't surprise me if I was in shock through a whole song and missed it.


The next part that I remember was "Thistles and Weeds." This song has a distinctive intro with an electric guitar. They also turn the lights red. Very dramatic. This was a gasp-inducing moment for me. Was I going to hear the actual song this time? Last time, they played the long intro and then Marcus tried to sing it only to flub the lyrics. He then explained that it suddenly dawned on him that he was at THE RYMAN and playing an electric guitar and it all felt really strange. He added that Ted would be upset because he had learned the drums just to be able to play that song. Well, Ted got to play the drums, and I got to hear "Thistles and Weeds." All three concert buddies were happy for me. Tall Guy #3 to my right probably thought we were drunk or stoned. I'm sure he gave me a label like "Crazy Short Girl" or "Girl Who Tried to Take Too Many Pictures" or more simply, "Loud Whooo Girl."

Somewhere during the concert "Below My Feet" was played. I clapped and jumped and danced through it. Others, not so much. It was at that moment that I realized that not everyone else is as Mumford-obsessed as I am, and maybe the song was new to some people. Hmm...Good to realize.  This dancing/clapping/whooing is what made me realize Tall Guy #3 was probably less than thrilled to be next to me. Large Backpack Dude was probably not happy to be in front of me at that moment, but he had a 30 lb. backpack worth of space in between us as a buffer. Fortunately, the people behind him earlier had asked him to take off his top hat. No, I am not kidding. A top hat. With a grey handlebar mustache attached to it.

Jerry Douglas (or Uncle Jerry, as Marcus introduced him-- I captured a GREAT picture of them hugging) came on stage to play the dobro with the guys. I had already whooped a loud "Yes!" when Jerry was introduced. Now, I made a real fool of myself when Marcus said they were going to play a song that they recorded with Jerry because that could mean only one thing: "The Boxer." Yes, I had heard "The Boxer" before at The Ryman, but this time, I was hearing it with Julie. Julie, the only other 18 year old in 1995 who was as hooked on Simon & Garfunkel as I was. I grabbed her hand and we listened to "The Boxer" and then lie-lie-lied to our heart's content.

Jerry remained on stage and all of Dawes came out to join in on "Awake My Soul." Admittedly, I don't recall much here other than trying to get a good picture of Marcus, Jerry, and Taylor Goldsmith jamming together.

I think next they all left the stage and Marcus went up to the drums. I couldn't see any of this happen, but I do remember hearing "Lover of the Light." I think "Dust Bowl Dance" was next. I rejoiced once more with my concert buddies. The crowd was going absolutely wild the whole concert, but especially so during "Dust Bowl Dance." The boys tear through this song. It always sounds like Ben is pounding so hard on the piano that he'll bust through the stage. Marcus destroys the drums, and Winston and Ted shred on guitar. This was the last song of the official set. We were still a grateful and enthusiastic crowd. My body hurt so bad and I felt so old, but I didn't care.

The band came back on stage, and Marcus thanked the town of Dixon. I forgot to mention one part earlier because I don't know what song it happened during. During one of the songs, everyone in the crowd put their hands up and started swaying them back and forth in time to the song. And I mean, everyone. I can only imagine what it looked like to the band. Marcus, in the middle of singing the song, laughed and said, "F---ing ridiculous, you're awesome!" And we kept it up for the WHOLE song. In case it is not clear by now, being part of the Dixon Gentlemen of the Road audience was unbelievable. But it still got better than that.

For the encore, they played "Winter Winds" and then "The Cave." I've been a part of the whole audience sing-a-long to "The Cave" before. It is magical. There is something about singing your favorite song at the top of your lungs with thousands of other people who feel the same way. The Mumford & Sons music was blasting, but I can't help but think that we as an audience gave a bit of a blast right back....all while jumping with our arms in the air. Someone captured 50 seconds of what it looked like from the stage.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWs10nfiAD0
In this clip, this is the end of at least 3 minutes solid of singing and jumping (mild, not leaving the ground jumping from me because I decided to listen to Bladder and the two sports bras). Julie, Sarah, Danelle and I are about 12 feet to the right of that giant tree.

On the way to the concert, I speculated about what the final song would be. At the Portland GOTR show, they sang "The Weight" by The Band. At Bristol, it was "Wagon Wheel," a song that definitely has regional flavor. What on earth could they play for Dixon? Northern IL? Birth place of Ronald Reagan? Nothing popped to mind for me.

I had sort of forgotten about the finale. Then Mumford & Sons brought EVERYONE out on stage, they all started plugging in instruments. And then...the opening guitar riffs of "With a Little Help from my Friends." Tall Guy #3 was really regretting being next to me now. I whooed with all my might. Not only did I hear my favorite band cover Simon & Garfunkel again, but now The Beatles? (Yes, yes, I know Joe Cocker's version is much better, but we're talking about The Beatles!!!, one of three bands I was obsessed with in college) To see these wonderful four mates playing a song by the Fab Four was too much. Add to that, everyone else joined in and did their own parts and did so wonderfully.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iw_7LEbx7O8

At this point, I was at a bit of a loss for words. "Epic" is thrown around so much that it has started to lose its meaning. I truly believe the moments of "The Cave" and the finale were epic. But I also finally understood the full brunt of the phrase "f---ing awesome" that Marcus Mumford uses so much. I understood why when he looks out upon an audience of 15,000 people giving every bit of appreciation they can, he says that they are being f-ing awesome. To be a part of that night in Dixon when the bands gave their all and the audience gave it right back was more than just awesome.


(Believe it or not, I feel like I left things out, but at this point, I need to return to being an adult with a family, so this is getting posted)