Arriving ticketless, fully imbibed, and flannel clad at the Ogden, my cohorts and I were greeted by a line that had the personality of I-70 on a Sunday afternoon in Summit County. Trampled by Turtles have been on my radar for a while. We saw them at the Bluebird in December, and although good times were had, it was unmemorable to the point that Frank forgot he was there. My buddy Steve gave them a shout out in a recent email, so their star may be growing, but I wouldn’t have pegged them to sell out the Ogden a few months after playing a full, but definitely-not-packed Bluebird.
Bearded and burly, the Turtles play hard drinking bluegrass with an ethos that says play fast as hell and leave precision plucking and vocal clarity for Chris Thile and Tim O’Brien. There were several slow burning ballads mixed in to give us time to make beer runs and wipe the sweat from our foreheads, but the band isn’t aiming for afternoon afghan sitters.
My mental memory of the performance is two fold: on stage, five players strumming furiously and in complete unison; on the floor, a jamboree of flying, sweaty arms, smiling faces, and many cans of Fosters. Their sound started with shutterbug fiddle as Ryan Young continually snapped off nasty riffs. His band mates played just as hard and let the audience help out with percussion. “Codeine” is their exemplar, a head-banging, rip-roaring ode to Townes Van Zandt that manages to maintain a soaring melody.
To close the night, Turtles pulled Floyd and Dylan covers out of the vault. First came Floyd’s “Breathe,” with a striking arrangement that built from ambient cacophony to fully engaged frenzy. Then, “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue,” a fitting cap.
A note on the opening act: Paper Bird, a seven member blend of bluegrass and brass instrumentation and female tri-harmony, is worthy of their own post upon further deliberation.
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