The Hootenanny On Hunter Street has truly arrived. After only four years, it’s become one of the real highlights of the Peterborough summer calendar, and also one of the best chances our local music scene gets to strut its stuff in front of the rest of the townsfolk. Just look at last year’s wildly successful all-local edition, which featured the emotional packed-stage final performance from The Spades. This year’s Hoot never quite hit that emotional high. Instead, Hoot ’14 was a chance to kick back a bit and let loose – and for me, the result was exactly the spirit of what summer festivals should be. Perhaps no band showed that more than co-headliners The Silver Hearts. Now in their fifteenth year together, the Hearts are one of Peterborough’s most enduring and successful musical concoctions – and also one of the weirdest, most disjointed groups of random people and instruments you’ll ever see on stage. Tom Reader is a ball of energy, kicking his legs wildly in the air, blaring red-faced on his trombone and screaming lyrics at the top of his lungs; as sitting next to him, the dapper, moustachioed bluesman Trevor Davis looks on in quiet bemusement. Behind them, Wyatt Burton holds a hipster-cool stance and a sexy cherry-red electric guitar; and meanwhile oh my god, how do I still have 8 members to talk about??

Eleven members in total (plus or minus, depending on who’s around on that particular day), the Hearts play ragtime, swing, folk, jazz, rock, and soul (among many others) on harmonicas, banjos, accordions, trumpets, and musical saws (among many others). That might sound like a clusterfuck (musical saw in a ragtime band?) but then listen to the eerie, mournful sounds of Cathy Petch on “Locust Hill” and tell me it doesn’t toootally work. And ultimately, that is exactly what unites this band: an overwhelming sense of sure-why-not. Everyone gets their chance to do their thing for a bit, and then sits back acting silly while someone else takes a turn. And the end result, that glorious, anarchic energy from a bunch of weirdos coming together, can actually be quite beautiful. That sure-why-not attitude is exactly what a festival should be. Festivals are where people are free to be their most people-ish, confident that everyone around them is doing exactly the same. In the past, I’ve been known to make fun of the Hoot’s insanely general tagline, “A Street Festival For Everyone,” but this year more than any other, it came close to it. Whether it’s dancing like an idiot, relaxing with a glass of pinot, doing skateboard tricks, getting fucked up in the beer tent, or anything in between – sure, why not. This was especially true of the music. Last year, I spent some time in my review arguing that the festival should move beyond country, folk, and roots. After all, it has become one of the biggest showcases for the local music scene (when else do you hear all of Peterborough chanting “Dave! Tough! Dave! Tough!”?) and the local scene goes far beyond the banjo. Indeed, this year’s Hoot was a sure-why-not of the Peterborough scene. Representing the folk/country scene was the always-welcome Melissa Payne, certainly one of the town’s rising stars – but we also had more. Roboteyes’ synth-pop theatrics? The Charming Ruins’ heavy guitar rock? Streetlight Social’s St Paddy’s anthems? Sure, why not. In fact, about the only thing unifying the lineup was that that all the bands are great in a party. But for pure party, no band at the Hoot (not even The Silver Hearts) quite compare to the night’s closers, Toronto’s Ubiquitous Synergy Seekers, or U.S.S. On the radio, U.S.S. are a pretty solid rock/dance band. On stage, they’re… something else. This duo (plus drummer) features Ash Buchholz on guitar and vocals and the psychotically excited, Monster-Energy-Drink-in-human-form Jason “Human Kebab” Parsons on turntables – though ringmaster and hype man would probably describe it better. As Buchholz stands still at the mic, trying to keep some semblance of music going, Human Kebab spends about ten seconds at the turntables for every five minutes he’s jumping around the stage, screaming out to the audience, and generally acting like a crazy person.

They are glorious, a shameless party band. No trick is too cheap, whether it’s tossing out beach balls, DJing while doing a handstand, crowd-surfing, using a record as a guitar pick, or, that ultimate dirty trick: covering “Hey Ya.” Because when someone with a microphone yells “WHAT’S COOLER THAN BEING COOL?”, you’d pretty much have to be a soulless monster to not yell back “ICE COOOLLLDDD!!” In a way, U.S.S. were actually a pretty bold choice for this town. It may well have been the first time the dulcet tones of a dubstep drop have ever wafted on the airs of Hunter Street. It wasn’t nearly the emotional, city-unifying finale that Hoot ’13 provided, but it was the spirit of street festivals made real. It was a big, goofy, fun-as-hell party, because, well, crowd-surfing on Hunter Street? Sure, why not.

Photos by Scott Dancey.