30th Annual Turks Head Music Festival
It feels weird being in West Chester on a Sunday; usually I stroll the town Monday-Friday while I am here for work and school (and when my bus, Septa 92, runs; they don't run Sundays). It's a nice change, however. When I step off bus #104, the transportation center is empty, but it quickly changes when I step out into the hot and humid sunshine and people hustle and bustle around Gay and Market streets. I stop at Starbucks first: I was not sure if the festival will have drinks and if they do, I had a feeling the prices would be exorbitant. Besides, the little walking I did I felt some of the sweat roll down my back, I needed some time to cool down before beginning my trekk again.
"Where is Everhart Park," I meekly ask the barista. In my four years since attending West Chester University, I never adventured past the Mad Platter on Gay Street. I was excited to finally see this infamous Everhart Park that people gloated about a lot.
"You'll have to go down a block and keep west." It is vague, but I remembered from the directions I printed, but forgot, that I was to look for West Miner Street and keep left until I reached South Brandywine Street.
I head out the door and make my way towards Miner Street. I know where that is as I walk past it everyday on my walks, but something comes over me when I doubt that maybe that is the wrong way. I head back to Market Street to ask people for directions, but they were just as clueless and were of no help. Finally I decide that maybe the street I passed everyday was the correct one; I made my way towards that. A couple passing by me confirmed my directions were correct.
The walk along West Miner Street seemed to take forever, but it was a nice little walk despite the humidty that frizzed my hair. An elderly gentleman cleaning his sidewalk saw me coming and waves, so I ask him if this is the direction to the park. "Yes, you're two blocks away, keep straight and you'll hear the music." Sure enough as I was one block away, I heard the ferocity and loudness of guitars and drums.
Jazz, I never liked jazz. The Rob Swanson Project was the next band to perform. I saw that as my opportunity to get lunch. The price for food, like I thought, was exorbitant. The crab cake sandwich I bought was $7 and the lemonade was $3. Walking back, I see one of my friends at one of the booths and I had to stop to talk to them. That filled my time so I didn't have to go back and listen to the jazz. It was nice seeing him as well.
Kuf Knotz went on fifteen minutes later after technical difficulties. The white DJ introduces himself as DJ Golden Spiral, Kuf Knotz introduces himself and the other singer introduces himself as Dave Vegas. They were really good and I couldn't help but dance and sway to the music. I am surprised because I usually don't like hiphop, but their voices were amazing. After their set, I buy Dave Vegas's CD, chat with the band and get a picture with them.
I leave in the middle of Junk Rock's performance, which was basically them banging on trashcans and other silly antics. They were pretty good, though, I was just hot and needed to go into an air conditioned space.