With the high desert sun fading behind the Wasatch Mountains of Utah, My Morning Jacket launched into “I’m Amazed” during their set at the Park City Song Summit.
“I’m amazed at what the people sayin’,” the Jacket’s Jim James sang. “I’m amazed by a divided nation.”
In a time when America finds itself at another existential crossroads, James’ lyric summed up what many at the PCSS had been thinking, both about the country and about themselves: Where to from here?
Singer-songwriter Anders Osborne had his own answer. “I understand that I’m OK just the way I am, and I don’t have to go seeking for things — it’s all within me,” he says while walking a dirt trail high above the amphitheater within the Park City Mountain Resort.
Osborne recently celebrated 15 years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol, a period of his life that, at one point, left him homeless in New Orleans. He’s committed to bringing light and attention to the darker side of the human condition.
“It means a lot that we can now be open about depression, ‘I’m bipolar,’ ‘I’m schizophrenic,’ ‘I’m scared,’ ‘I’m afraid,’” Osborne says. “It’s a shift in consciousness and I’m just blessed to be part of something that is shifting.”
Osborne’s sentiments are the core ethos behind the Park City Song Summit, which was established in 2019 as a way to spark dialogue and action within the music industry by addressing mental and physical health awareness.
“We’re contributing to a new way of looking at artists, at our audience, [and] embracing de-stigmatization of mental health,” says Ben Anderson, PCSS founder. “And clarity around issues like addiction, social equity, opportunity and inclusivity. Each one of those words is super important because they’re all interconnected around wellness.”
The annual gathering is a beacon of steadfast hope and positive change within a professional landscape often leaving a lot to be desired when it comes to nurturing one another through trauma and addiction.
“If we want to talk about ourselves as a music industry, it’s way different than talking about ourselves as a music community,” Anderson says. “We fall to the latter. And if we can be a part of that greater community and effectuate some change, then I feel, in some small way, what we’re doing here really matters.”
Along with My Morning Jacket, the third installment of PCSS featured headlining sets from Mavis Staples and Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats. Larkin Poe, Eric Krasno & Friends, Ivan Neville, Nikki Glaspie, Cimafunk, Jennifer Hartswick, Jason Hann, Steve Poltz, Jobi Riccio, and Duane Betts were also on the bill.
“A lot of times we [artists] sacrifice everything for the show, including our mental health and our sanity,” Poltz says. “And we rely on uppers, downers, booze, everything else. So, it’s neat to come to a place where the emphasis is on people being healthy.”
Beyond the stellar lineup and a focus on wellness activities onsite, the essence of PCSS resides in the ongoing conversations from both sides of the microphone. With numerous “labs” held throughout the weekend, topics ranged from “Dignity in Dialogue: Embracing Artistic Freedom & Rethinking ‘Cancel Culture’” to “Beats & Bytes: Navigating Creativity in the Age of AI.”
Music photographer Danny Clinch hosted a live interview with James leading up to MMJ’s Friday night extravaganza. Titled “Regions of Light,” the conversation touched on “the toll of heavy touring,” atop a candid interaction about the life of an artist in a haphazard work environment.
“I saw a Dave Matthews [Band] show recently, and I was shooting some photos backstage,” Clinch tells Rolling Stone afterwards. “And you know what they do before they hit the stage? They take a shot — a green [wellness] shot.”
Clinch turns somber though when asked about a photograph he recently posted on social media, an image he snapped of Shannon Hoon backstage at Woodstock ’94. The lead singer of ‘90s alt-rock darlings Blind Melon died tragically from a cocaine overdose in 1995 at age 28.
“It’s painful and it doesn’t really get any less painful for me,” Clinch says of his late friend. “My wife and I are both friends with his daughter, Nico, and Nico’s mom. They’ll come hang out [with us] in Asbury Park for a long weekend. And it makes me sad because Shannon would really have appreciated that.”
Larkin Poe perform at the Park City Song Summit. Photo: Erika Goldring*
The next building over from Clinch is the lobby of the Pendry Hotel. Grabbing a seat in front of the fireplace, Rebecca and Megan Lovell, the sibling duo behind rock outfit Larkin Poe, lean forward when posed a question about the bloated nature and cringe-worthy attitude that is “sex, drugs and rock & roll.”
“Rock & roll is having a resurgence, but I also think rock & roll needs a bit of a facelift,” Rebecca notes. “It’s not ‘sex, drugs and rock & roll’ anymore. You can be rock & roll and want to have a healthy relationship with your family. Good communication and really caring about the other person’s wellbeing had led us to not implode like a lot of sibling bands have done.”
Before they head to the Canyons Village Amphitheater for soundcheck, Rebecca has one more thought she’s been mulling over as the band pushes headlong into the mainstream.
“Rock & roll can be dangerous, but suffering is optional. There’s a temptation to believe kick-ass, braggadocious rock is derived from angst,” she says. “And I patently disagree. We can be more creative and imaginative within the lyrical landscape. Let’s dig deeper. Let’s find something that’s truer than just the surface of what it looks like to be kick-ass.”
A couple hours later on the amphitheater stage, Rebecca’s Fender Stratocaster and Megan’s lap steel squeal like a muscle car with a full tank of gas. “Truck stop highway USA, I’m countin’ down the 50 states,” Rebecca howls during “Blue Ridge Mountains,” an ode to her native North Georgia from the 2018 album Venom & Faith. “I can’t shake these movin’ blues, roll me to the pearly gates.”
During his Saturday evening set, Nathaniel Rateliff not only tied a musical bow on the PCSS, he also took a moment to speak about his late friend and collaborator, Richard Swift, who died from complications of alcohol addiction in 2018 at age 41.
Rateliff spoke of their respective paths in life and how he missed his friend before dedicating “Get Used to the Night” to Swift from his recent album, South of Here. As the Night Sweats surged from the stage, the heaviness in the air transitioned to a space of gratitude.
“I used to know it all/now I can’t remember much, man,” Rateliff cried out in his soulful Springsteen-esque rumble. “Used to be a proud fuckin’ fool/you run ahead and I’ll catch up, man.”
“A pitfall for me is that common misconception of, ‘Can you create art and be happy?’” Rateliff tells Rolling Stone, in reference to his own struggles with alcohol abuse and finding a healthy balance in his life and career. “Now, I’m looking for reasons to stay clear-headed, whether it’s my emotional stability or my responsibility to my audience, my crew, my band. I’m working towards trying to figure out the best way to do that at this point.”
