Newport Folk for Three Generations

SLIDESHOW

The considerable longevity of the Newport Folk Festival (founded in 1959), and its singular place in American musical and political culture, makes it a natural case study. As we all know, two generations ago, in the years surrounding that Dylan-going-electric moment, Newport was a hotbed of lefty activism. The folkies honored their elders, the founders of the scene, while the upstart Bobs and Joans and Jonis added their anti-Vietnam fervor to Woody and Pete's traditional fascist-killing banjo tunes.

One generation ago, the '90s peak of singer-songwriter glory saw the crowning of the Indigo Girls, Suzanne Vega, Ani DiFranco and Mary Chapin Carpenter (welcome back!) as masters of confessional expression. Their ability to make the personal political carried the love forward to the children of the original Newport fans: third-wave feminists and global justice activists. The crowds at Fort Adams grew again, leading toward a future of larger crowds, additional stages and a bigger footprint for those messages of peace, justice and equality. Since then it’s only gotten harder to score a ticket.

Skip ahead to the present day. What place does any "voice of a generation" songwriter have now, when everyone’s a content creator who speaks for themselves? Political action is fragmented to the point of being a person-by-person movement, each one taking to Instagram Reels and TikTok to speak truth to power on a micro scale. Does the ideal of "Newport" work as a movement, when music genres have exploded and people curate their own daily soundtracks in the vacuum left behind by the lack of a mainstream?

Well, in 2025, Newport certainly tried to bring it all together.

Jesse Welles, this year’s John Prine fellow with a 2025 debut on the big Fort stage, writes songs condemning war and rampant capitalism that would fit right into any folk fest of the past 60 years. The incisive, melodic songcraft of Alynda Segarra (Hurray for the Riff Raff), Katie Crutchfield (Waxahatchee), Margo Price and S.G. Goodman has the ability to bring national and global abuses of power into the living rooms and bedrooms of Anytown. Obongjayar delivers the personal-as-political message as well as anyone ever has. Mon Rovîa and Ken Pomeroy sing these lessons in their own unique ways, showing the way forward into an optimistic future.

The 2025 presence of the festival’s mighty angel, Mavis Staples, alongside the ever honest and uncompromising Jeff Tweedy, served as a guiding force once again, pointing us all straight to the truth. Newport still honors their elders here, along with the friends and family they've joined up with along the way, and the late greats that made it as far as they could down the path.

Roots/rock statesmen Nathaniel Rateliff (a Night Sweat) and Matt Berninger (of The National) ditched their big bands for the weekend to connect directly with the fans; even Luke Combs just sat on a stool and talked to the folks for most of his stage time. The Swell Season interrupted their raucous set to bring out young Nashville pal Josh O'Keefe to lead the audience in singing "Build a wall, build a wall/And your empire's bound to fall."

Then Public Enemy took to the Quad stage and minced zero words, calling out the government and thrusting power into the raised hands of the crowd.

So the force isn’t dead, yet. Though of course, not all music dives into the belly of the political beast; a lot of it is created to just ease everyone’s days and nights and spread joy. Philly's Snacktime left the crowd smiling, walking the grounds singing "Smokin' Drinkin' Talkin' Shit" under their breaths so all the kids wouldn't hear. New York's own Sammy Rae & the Friends generated enough sweaty energy to power a whole 'nother stage if they wanted to. Maren Morris took us all for a ride in her '80s Mercedes. And Big Freedia brought the big guns — from her call-and-response bounce lesson, to vocals from the Resistance Revival Chorus, to her upbeat new “Holy Shuffle” — earning extra points for staging what must be the first-ever twerking competition in folk festival history. Glee!

And some music is just plain fascinating to listen to. Goose never disappoints (except that their Friday set was too short, due to a storm). Flipturn became a new favorite for me and a field full of other over-40s, squeezing in amongst the younger folks who'd been camping out all day for them. Geese can't really be described in one sentence, so look them up if you're a fan of indie-art-rock that can't be described in one sentence. And if intricacy, elegance and beauty are your jam, you wish you were there for Iron & Wine (happy birthday, Sam) accompanied by Sarah Jarosz, Sara Watkins and Aoife O'Donovan of I'm With Her.

Joy taken care of, the entire flock of festival goers gathered around the ol' Fort stage on the water for the big "Songs for the People" set to close out Sunday night. And here's where we all try to answer the question of whether Newport Folk idealism can exist in these modern times.

It looked to me like... maybe?

Big props to Josh Kaufman, multi-talented member of Bonny Light Horseman and ringleader of this particular circus. He brought together artists from across the weekend and beyond (including national treasure Amy Helm) to perform an eclectic list of compositions adjacent to the concept of protest or unity or symbolic togetherness. The string just holding it together was actor John C. Reilly, who has become something of a jovial Newport mascot in recent years. (He did quite a good job as emcee of Thursday night’s All-Star Softball Game downtown at Cardines Field, too.)

As these catchall sets go, it was a bit uneven, probably under-rehearsed, and quite a bit longer than planned, but there were highlights. We didn’t get the Tracy Chapman appearance folks hoped for with Mr. Combs, but we got “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution” led by Alynda Segarra. The crowd pushed everything they’d heard about Van Morrison for the past 10 years into a dark brain recess to enjoy a cover of “Into the Mystic.” The impeccable Trombone Shorty brought extra spark to Amy Helms’ “Yes We Can Can,” not that a Pointer Sisters tune needs much more to shine. 

Nathaniel Rateliff sang a “Hallelujah” with gusto. I suppose the Grateful Dead’s “Eyes of the World” is a wake-up call for awareness of sorts? Whatever, I never mind hearing it. “Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)” made sense; thank you to Margo Price and to Woody Guthrie (who likely would agree with her thoughts about ICE). Extra points go to Sarah Jarosz and Bridget Kearney of Lake Street Dive for forming the core of a house band with Josh for much of it; that couldn’t have been easy. Oh, and Lukas Nelson rocked Neil Young’s free world. You get the idea.

As an event, few festivals are as well-run, kind to its family, generous with its community, and genuinely meaningful as Newport Folk. Yet I walked away from the weekend exhaustedly smiling at the big, beautiful mess it was, and probably always has been. People are messy. Art is messy. Protest is messy, love is messy, music is messy. If those ‘60s, ‘90s, and now ‘20s progressives don’t figure out how to coordinate themselves and rally around some clear central tenets, folkies will be the counterculture forever. Long may we all run. See you all next year.

Wonder what the musicians were anticipating at this year's Newport Folk and Jazz festivals? Read "So You're Going to Newport 2025.

Many, many thanks to Gus Philippas for the photography — see below for a taste, or view the full Flickr slideshow.