Folk Alliance International isn’t your typical music conference. Held this year in New Orleans, days include industry panels, seminars, and public showcases in hotel ballrooms, but the real magic happens late at night when up to 100 hotel rooms transform into intimate “private showcases”—artists who normally fill 500-seat theaters performing for 20 people at a time, running from 10:30 p.m. until 2 or 3 a.m., often followed by late-night jam sessions that stretch until sunrise. It’s an overwhelming amount of music happening simultaneously, where you can bounce between rooms and catch dozens of performances in a single night.
If you’ve seen Steve Poltz live, you already know. If you haven’t, here’s what you’re missing: manic energy, lightning wit, and great songs. All guaranteed to leave you grinning ear to ear.
Case in point: he premiered a new song about a grasshopper smoking marijuana. He introduced it by asking, “Wanna hear the dumbest song I ever wrote?” The song was so new that Anna Moss, joining him for the songwriter round, held up his phone so he could reference the lyrics. Adding to the moment: Poltz apparently skipped a verse, so Moss sang it a cappella after he had finished. Poltz’s post-song assessment? “I don’t know that we’ll ever hear that song again.”
That set, which also featured Pat Byrne, was my favorite of the week. But don’t just take my word for it. “That was fun as hell,” I heard Poltz exclaim as we both raced up the hotel’s back stairwell to get to our respective next destinations.
New Orleans-based Anna Moss was among my favorite discoveries of the week. I caught both her full-band official showcase and a solo private showcase—two sides of the same coin, each highlighting her songwriting depth and infectious personality. The full-band set felt like a proper New Orleans blowout, with musicians crowding the stage and people dancing in the aisles. The solo set was more intimate but just as compelling.
West Texas Exiles—a collective of multiple singer-songwriters—brought harmony-drenched Texas rock to both their public and private showcases, but the 1 a.m. private set hit hardest. They played those acoustic instruments with full-band ferocity, turning an intimate hotel room into a raucous late-night revival at a time when most other festivals would be winding down. It was a much-needed shot of adrenaline before the late night jam sessions kicked in.
Rainbow Girls were too good to see just once. I caught them acoustic first, then with a rocking full band. Both sets delivered catchy yet lyrically powerful songwriting, brilliant harmonies, and entertaining between-song banter.
Minneapolis resident Chastity Brown delivered one of the most powerful sets of the festival. Switching from guitar to piano mid-set, she poured everything into each song—including a just-written composition about the horror and unrest occurring in her neighborhood right now. It was a performance raw and unflinching.
Brett Newski mixes an indie rock edge into his folk music—great melodies and lyrics that blend edge and humor. I caught two sets, each with its own perfect closer: his own catchy DIY anthem (“I’m DIY / I’m punk as fuck / Don’t need your money / I don’t want your love”) and a damn fine version of the Cars’ “Just What I Needed.”
Ian Fisher was high on my list of artists to see—I’d met him but had never seen him perform. He exceeded expectations with a commanding set anchored by politically charged lyrics and infectious melodies. He was joined by the duo Raising Daughters late in his set, their presence elevating an already impressive set even higher.
Lyal Strickland—a Missouri farmer making a return to music after an extended hiatus—delivered a great set of folk songs mixed with a healthy dose of farmland dirt.
Young Danish singer-songwriter Simone Tang delivered something special—an exquisite blend of Joni Mitchell and Nick Drake that was delicate, introspective, and utterly captivating.
Singing Until Sunrise
But wait, there’s even more music! As the private showcases wind down, the late-night jams are just getting started. Artists gather in hotel rooms and the hotel lobby, swapping songs until sunrise.
Among the highlights that I caught: Dan Navarro’s Cantina Navarro session, where Jack Barksdale led the room through a heartbreaking version of Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” and the Fort Worth/Tulsa room, which delivered a phenomenal rendition of Little Feat’s “Willin'” alongside other gems.
About the author: Mild-mannered corporate executive by day, excitable Twangville denizen by night.