"Bedhead" - Shotgun Jimmie
"Tell Me a Story" - Po' Girl
"Begging You" - The Stones Roses
"Your Rocky Spine" - Great Lake Swimmers
"Your Love is Miracle" - Average White Band
*
"Weighty Ghost" - Wintersleep
***
"Con Toda Palabra" - Lhasa De Sela
"Glad to Be Unhappy" - Billie Holiday
"Dragons" - Caravan Palace
*
"Breakfast with Blockhead" - Aesop Rock
"Six Days The Remix" - DJ Shadow ft. Mos Def
"What You Know" - Two Door Cinema Club
HOUR TWO
"Bloody" - Arrested Development
"No No Keshagesh" - Buffy Sainte-Marie
"After Hours" - Roy Buchanan
*
"Symphony 4: America's Mercy War" - Emily Wells
"I Need a Dollar (How to Make it in America)" - Aloe Blaac
*
"Moving Forward" - Nomadic Massive
"L'amour est un tricheur" - Caracol
"Cold Steel Drum" - Buck 65
"Summertime Clothes" - Animal Collective
"Relocation Blues" - Buffy Sainte-Marie
"Everything Will Probably Be OK" - The Burning Hell
HOUR THREE
"Summertime" - Mouth's Cradle
"Anxious Lullabye" - Dreamsploitation*
"I Am Not Alone" - B.D. Willoughby
*
"Fonctionnaire" - Bette et Wallet
"La Boulangere" - Yves Lambert et Le Bebert Orchestra
"Lemonade" - Coco Rosie
"Let's Go Surfing" - Drums
***
"White & Nerdy" - Weird Al Yankovic
"Suburban War" - Arcade Fire
"Piggy Backin' (Do Cost You No Money)" - Ghostkeeper
"Meanwhile in the Park" - Ed Laurie
"Google Jesus" - Hawksley Workman
"Drugs" - Ratatat
"Man Made Lake" - Calexico
*This track was played under reading the following letter written by Shayna Stock:
Dear Regina Folk Festival,
Thank you.
for that feeling of mud oozing through grass and through the toes of the feet stomping on it,
remembering Earth perhaps for the first time all summer.
for thousands of glowing faces turned yearningly, expectantly, excitedly, amazed,
collectively receiving the same experience through diverse bodies
and for the one pair of eyes that happen to catch mine in a fleeting but pregnant recognition of interconnectedness. strangers united by shared experience.
for the spontaneous miracles sparked when artist meets artist meets talented and passionate artist, and hundreds bear witness to their improvised collective creation. i've seen magic born in your workshops (and, this year, in an ad-hoc post-concert jam around the cenotaph).
for opening a space where it's okay to be who we are at our very core,
for inviting artists who live and breath their diverse truths and inspire that honesty in me.
for families with babies on blankets beside amorous teenagers and seniors with binoculars and lawn chairs. for all of us experiencing life -- all of it -- family frustrations, break-ups and love affairs included -- together. for one whole weekend.
for wandering and intuition and synchronistic encounters with friends old and new between sets, between stages, between songs.
for smiles exchanged with strangers on bicycles riding home after the show. because, like a shared secret, the magic of the day is still in us, and we can sense it in one another too.
for hugs and hula hoops, laughter and lights, drummers and strummers, stompers and rompers, face painters, fiddle players, and layers and layers of fun. for community -- sharing food and plastic plates and a soccer game outside the gates.
for exhausted bodies sucking strength from the vibrations on the dance floor to move to one more song because they have to. because it's only three days and it only comes once a year and because monday will come too soon and it's not the exhaustion we'll remember but the euphoria of our bodies bouncing to the beat, of music moving through us until our limbs are no longer our own -- guided by bass and drum and clarinet, collectively transcending our separateness.
Thank you.
for that feeling of mud oozing through grass and through the toes of the feet stomping on it,
remembering Earth perhaps for the first time all summer.
for thousands of glowing faces turned yearningly, expectantly, excitedly, amazed,
collectively receiving the same experience through diverse bodies
and for the one pair of eyes that happen to catch mine in a fleeting but pregnant recognition of interconnectedness. strangers united by shared experience.
for the spontaneous miracles sparked when artist meets artist meets talented and passionate artist, and hundreds bear witness to their improvised collective creation. i've seen magic born in your workshops (and, this year, in an ad-hoc post-concert jam around the cenotaph).
for opening a space where it's okay to be who we are at our very core,
for inviting artists who live and breath their diverse truths and inspire that honesty in me.
for families with babies on blankets beside amorous teenagers and seniors with binoculars and lawn chairs. for all of us experiencing life -- all of it -- family frustrations, break-ups and love affairs included -- together. for one whole weekend.
for wandering and intuition and synchronistic encounters with friends old and new between sets, between stages, between songs.
for smiles exchanged with strangers on bicycles riding home after the show. because, like a shared secret, the magic of the day is still in us, and we can sense it in one another too.
for hugs and hula hoops, laughter and lights, drummers and strummers, stompers and rompers, face painters, fiddle players, and layers and layers of fun. for community -- sharing food and plastic plates and a soccer game outside the gates.
for exhausted bodies sucking strength from the vibrations on the dance floor to move to one more song because they have to. because it's only three days and it only comes once a year and because monday will come too soon and it's not the exhaustion we'll remember but the euphoria of our bodies bouncing to the beat, of music moving through us until our limbs are no longer our own -- guided by bass and drum and clarinet, collectively transcending our separateness.
Thank you.
