Every few years or so, a moment, an event, a season happens in a city that serves to define it, that feels like a distillation of its identity as a whole. This summer that Denver and those who call this city home just experienced was one of those moments, a summer no one here will ever forget, that will be talked about for years to come, stories handed down for generations. The season overflowed with music and celebration, the people of Denver brought together by creativity and passion for art and love for the city we have all chosen as our home. It was beautiful to be a part of, to see all the shows, festivals, events that were made possible because of passionate, caring, creative people with the kind of grit and determination necessary to build something that a city will carry with it forever.
This past weekend, on October 3rd, Denver’s Baker neighborhood hosted the first of what is sure to be many of Denver’s version of Porchfest and it felt like a culmination, everything the summer was building to made manifest, a shining, smiling celebration of this city and its people and the music that this city has made possible. Overall, it was a resounding success. Attending the event was intoxicating (in more ways than one), all-encompassing, walking through Baker during the event felt like what life should always be, joyous and free and filled with dancing and laughter. It felt special, like being a part of something that means something, that shows the rest of the world who we are as a town, as a community. It was endless possibility, an adventure and the biggest party you’ve ever attended. Organizer Bradley Schwartz and the incredible team he amassed to pull the whole thing off created magic in our streets while also allowing the people that call Denver home to celebrate themselves, to see how beautiful they are, what can be accomplished when people come together. And goddamn, was it a good time.
Porchfest kicked off at noon and ran until 7pm. It wasted very little time getting going. By 2pm, Baker was flooded with people, all dancing and having a good time, meeting up with friends, laughing. It felt almost overwhelming upon first arrival. I think, and this includes me, many in attendance didn’t fully grasp the size of the thing, how big Baker really is, what almost 200 bands playing in one day actually looks like. The size lended the festival this exploratory feel, a palpable sense of discovery. Everyone there had bands they were there to see but given how spaced out everything was, how long it could to take to get from one set to another, it was impossible not to find things along the way. You’d be heading to your destination and walk by 10 other artists playing, stop to check them out, plans abandoned. That was the beauty of the whole thing. It was so easy to get distracted because there was something new and cool and exciting around every corner. Even if you had to walk a mile to get to the set you were trying to see, you’d find so much you didn’t expect to while in transit.
The diversity of the music was really incredible. Porchfest felt like a showcase for all the different kinds of artists that have made Denver their home. You’d be walking along to wherever you initially set out to go and you’d look down the street to the left and there’d be a huge brass band surrounded by an ever-growing crowd of people. You’d look right and there’d be a bunch of people moshing in someone’s front lawn. Ahead, there’d be a guy picking a banjo right down the road from a rapper performing on someone’s balcony. Every genre imaginable was represented, psych rock, bluegrass, jam bands, hip hop, cumbia, metal, grunge, anything you could think of had a place at Porchfest which created a really welcoming environment. It was really heartening to see in this day and age, that so many different kinds of artists and people could come together and make something that felt so free.
The fact the festival was free with donations encouraged lent to Porchfest feeling like it was for everyone. In the past months, many of the big festivals this summer such as Blucifer and UMS were ticketed and those tickets were limited, a capacity would eventually be reached. That was not the case here. Anyone could show up at anytime they wished and see however many artists they wanted. People brought their kids, their parents, their grandparents, their dogs. Curious passerby’s that may not have known what was going on wandered in and stayed. At one point during May Be Fern’s 3pm set, a guy in a Tool shirt approached our group to ask who was playing because he saw us singing along. He said he lived in one of the apartment complexes in the area and had been reading out on his balcony when he heard the band’s set start. It got him to put his book down and come check things out. He might have been dancing harder than anyone by the time the set ended and we saw him moshing a few hours later. It just shows how inviting Porchfest felt, non-exclusive, everyone was welcome.
It was rather debaucherous it must be said. Given that there were only two official Porchfest bars and that they were pretty spaced out, with one in Dailey Park and the other outside of the Cookie Factory, many chose to step away from the festivities to go rip some shots at neighboring bars such as Bar 404 or hit a liquor store to grab beers or bottles to walk around with. It was pretty common to see people lugging 12 packs from porch to porch, handing beers out along the way and sharing them with their groups or swigging liquor straight from the bottle while leaning against a tree. It had a very BYOB feel which I don’t think was intended but certainly was not discouraged. It helped it all feel like just one gigantic party, the biggest party you’d ever been to. People passed around joints, made sure everyone’s cups were filled. They were feeling good, having a good time, but doing so respectfully, not making it everyone else’s problem or trashing the neighborhood. The drinks flowed through the streets of Baker and it helped to pervade that feeling of freedom that inhabited every aspect of the festival.
There was so much joy in the air the whole time. The bands themselves seemed so happy to be there, to be a part of it all. Every set we saw, the musicians would just be beaming, engaging with the crowd, thanking them for stopping by. We encountered many band-led chants of “PORCHFEST! PORCHFEST!” that people would get into and scream with their whole chests. The sets themselves all sounded great from a technical standpoint, a huge feat given that these were all taking place on regular people’s porches. It shows how thoughtful the organizing team was, every detail accounted for, every artist taken care of. From time to time, you’d see the organizers or volunteers running around, putting out fires, making sure everything was running smoothly. They were working their asses off to make sure this thing they’d built was all they’d hoped it could be and they deserve all the praise possible.
Really, the only downside was that it was impossible to see everything. At any given time, 20 sets would be happening in unison. This led to a bit of a rushing kind of feeling. You could stop by one set and see a quarter of it or half of it before moving on to catch the last piece of another set. This did help the whole thing feel like an adventure, though. You’d be at a set that you planned to see and a block away you’d see another huge crowd and get curious and go check it out and that set would be the best one yet.
Ultimately, I’m not sure exactly how many sets or pieces of sets we caught in total. We arrived with no agenda, just kind of floated through everything, stopping to check out bands along the way. We started in Dailey Park and worked our way into the neighborhood and caught maybe three or four sets as we meandered through, sort of letting the crowd and our ears guide us. We’d check out a set for 10-15 minutes and then move on, slowly getting deeper and deeper into everything. Eventually, we arrived at May Be Fern’s 3pm set and stayed there for most of the time they played before continuing to wander. As we walked, we came across a lot we were unfamiliar with but truly enjoyed which was exciting. We saw a bluegrass-y band with a banjo and a stand up bass right before we saw a rapper a few doors down before ending up at Beasts of No Nation and getting down in that huge crowd for a good while. We had amassed quite the crew by the end and while we all had downloaded and donated to the app that told us where everything was and when, we mostly just went with the flow. By the end, the group was pulling in every direction, no one certain of what was around the corner but everyone sure we need to go this way. It ended up pulling us to In Plain Air’s set which we saw all of and it was a perfect way to end things, one of the city’s coolest young bands doing their thing and absolutely crushing it. All in all, I’d say we caught somewhere around 10 different artists and while that may seem like a lot or a little on paper, it did feel like we barely scratched the surface of everything that Porchfest had to offer. When we left, we did so smiling, strolling our way down South Broadway in search of tacos and another drink.
Denver’s Porchfest was a resounding success, a beautiful event that allowed Denver to see itself in all its glory, all the different kinds of music and people that live here shining bright in the new fall sun. It was the kind of event that lasts, that a city remembers, and though there will surely be more Porchfests in Denver for years to come, being a small part of the very first one felt like something special, a privilege, a reminder why we all chose this city as our home. It was the kind of event that defines a city, that made its mark on those who attended. It was a wonderful day that served this city in so many ways. All proceeds from the event went into paying the bands and any excess went to local non-profit East 7th Arts. It was sincere, a true work of passion and creativity, the kind of event that makes you believe in people, what they can do together, what this world needs more of. See you at the next one.
All photography courtesy of Walker Lynch.
