Live and Local - Cidernalia 2025

So, I was at Cidernalia 2025.

I got there a little late because I had things to do in that morning, and I have a hound who is problematic. In fact, I had to duck out for a bit, and also left a little early. It was something of a day, but there were positive improvements to my first Cidernalia experience from last year. Plus, Uncle Moe was there, and I got a tour of the apple museum that I didn’t see coming (even though it was cut short by a timing emergency…more on that later).

When I got there, I showed my ticket and was rewarded with a natty Cidernalia commemorative glass and a ticket for a free fill up. I took that over to Josh at the Cider booth and he set me up with some brand new blend that I hadn’t tried before, and it was very on point.

Jim Bargas glides up out of nowhere, and everywhere. He’s hugging people and taking pictures and generally bringing the room around from a music show in an eclectic venue to an inviting collection of friends…certainly if you know him, but his power works even if you don’t. Something about his artist’s eye and his camera and the way he just puts himself right into the moment and the people he’s with, elevates the scene. Any pic I use for this when I post it will undoubtedly be one of his. Hell, any pic I EVER use for ANYTHING I write will probably be his, if it’s up to me.

Wyatt Bowman was up there when I got there, playing with the Last Complete Gonzos, featuring a sprinkling of knuckle draggers lurking in the back. The place is dimly lit and includes old signs and hanging items that remind you that you’re in a very old place that’s been processing apples since…well…back in the day, to be sure. If the day has horse drawn carriages and Victorian mores.

So then I ducked outside because…Uncle Moe!

 When I come back in, Chuck d is doing Summer Wine and generally jamming along with Darwinian fervor. Listening to Ben’s updates about his lovely dog Rose in between tunes, i'm struck again by the venue. There are posts and crooked rafters (obviously cut by hand) that bring to mind a barn used as a hospital in a civil war film (side note, everything that had a roof within a 5 mile radius of town was a hospital during those three days). I’m struck again by Dave Pickering’s banjo, and Cuz on his harps and vocals…just magic. Ben and Dean are so amazing, you almost take them for granted after you’ve seen them a few times.

The gigantic and infinitely smooth Wyatt (who pulls off a fedora better than i could ever hope to, even though it’s 7 feet off the ground) just wandered by after his set. His guitar work is great and his singing is strong and engaging, but the energy and connection he has with Ben on stage is why you want to see musicians playing together live. It’s always a treat when he shows up. I do not say that just because he could squish me like a grape, but it might factor in.

Finished Moe’s Catfish around when the Draggers came off…now I have to dip out to tend to my hell hound back home, and I’m on a bit of a clock because I’m meeting my lovely companion back at the apple museum in about an hour and 20. Basset hounds aren’t known for being lickety damn split about things, so one can only hope.

Fortified with Cider and catfish nuggets, I headed back home, and the gods were with me. Grant got up, ate, did his Biz in time for me to head back and catch some of Clark Mclean’s set and grab another cider before the arrival of my lovely companion, who was excited to see Honey on the Rocks.

It occurred to me that the last time I saw Clark Mclane’s band was at last years Cidernalia. Clark is a tremendous performer and songwriter with a great band (I don’t know the name of the man on the sweet butterscotch Tele, but man, he is bringing it like he means it). Going to have to make a point of finding them more often, and was glad to hear him say he’s recording with Guernsey beat soon!

So I’m trying out my new Freewrite device (writing some of this on site), and Rob and Llew are standing back by the huge quilt on a wooden device apparently built just to house a quilt. Rob is casually managing everything, real time, and doing it as if he's simply breathing, and Llew, well up there among the coolest people i know, is just taking it in. It will probably all be recycled as a poem or a nuance in the way they inflect on a vocal performance later.  Everything is grist to the mill for a creative soul.

I manage to put away my quasi-nerd keyboard device just as my companion arrives. Nothing screams Star-Trek-loving-high-school-virgin like walking around a concert with a squat laptop. She knows a ton of people (and most of their cats), so she works the room, and we end up getting word of a tour of the upstairs Apple museum proper. We group up with Peter Wile, Gena Lanette, and a group of others for a few mins of really cool and vaguely frightening early 20th century apple manipulation devices and diaramas. The Majestic Zipp and I are lagging back and making fun like the short-attention-span 12 year olds we are, when suddenly the companion sounds an emergency alarm...she heard Bevin start singing downstairs. Enough americana and education. HONEY ON THE ROCKS!!

So we scoot down the janky stairs and get back in as the set starts. Honey on the Rocks has Josh Fidler with a guitar he built himself,  a telelcaster-like object turned into a work of art, played masterfully as always. Tonight they’re accompanied on bass by the amazing Thomas Roue, also no one to screw with in terms of guitar, but his musicality on bass lends a sophistication to a very tight and solid rythm section held in with an understated but clean and tight alto sax. Bevin’s vocals bring down the house along with her articulate and timely electric violin work.

The whole Honey thing starts with the drummer. He lays down the beat with authority, telling the bass and the sax to hop on, and they do. Their keyboardist (also no flipping joke when it comes to vocals) lays in a rhythm working up the melody. Josh dives into solid, layered rhythm until it comes time to throw up the riff in the bridge or to step into his solo. From there you see what he can bring, and the sonic range he built into drop dead gorgeous tele.

It’s always a treat to catch them, as it is to eat at Sign of the Buck where Josh is the chef…because of course he is. F**ing guy probably splits atoms and runs a pinball machine with cold fusion just for the hell of it. An amazing talent on a wide scale, to be sure. Mostly I’m just jealous because I build guitars too. My teles look like they were stolen,  and recovered a month later out of a dumpster. I can imagine Mike Stearns finding it on a curb, taking it home, tuning it up and saying “hmm. Ugly as shit, but I dunno…it plays!”...whereas Josh’s look like a white gloved conservator handed it to you from  a climate controlled vault.  

This was the day after my birthday, and Lovely Companion offered to buy me dinner, so off we went to the GaryOwen, which was wonderful and very kind. We missed Western Skies and Gena’s set, unfortunately, but I have seen them both and certainly hope and expect to see Gena a lot more. I understand Western Skies is cocooning into a new iteration, so hopefully we will catch the new Skies again soon.

Cidernalia is brought to us by the fine folks at Ploughmans Taproom. It’s my understanding that this is the ninth iteration, so next year will be big ten. Maybe new fonts on the t shirts and an even fancier glass. Shout out to Derrick and Bendricks and Josh and Zach for doing the things, and for Ben and Rob for being Ben and Rob, as always.

There’s another, two-day music festival, Scene and Heard, at Ploughmans the first weekend of the new year. These shows are a great way to find all kinds of local talent in one go, so you can stack up your list of who to look for going forward.