Wolfe Island, for those who missed previous installments, is the largest of the Thousand Islands, and connects Canada to the US by two cute ferries. (The one on the Canadian side, for the record, is free.) Each year, thanks largely to the efforts of Grad Club Virg (aka Flying V Productions), every great band in the history of the universe descends into Marysville, Wolfe Island. This year: Born Ruffians, Basia Bulat, Holy Fuck, Spiral Beach, Nich Worby, Weeping Tile (REUNION!$), Apostle of Hustle, Wolfe Parade. Did I leave someone out? Probably.

Hillside who? Wolfe Island is clearly the most laid-back of the laid-back summer festivals, perched on a park and ball diamond. Unfold the picnic blanket, munch on a black-bean quesadilla from the Sleepless Goat, maybe (if you’re a giant nerd) bring a book along. Bring the kids. Bring the dogs. Bring a frisbee. Camp over on the island, even.

Here’s a roundup courtesy of the bloggerati:

Radio Free Canuckistan uses the P word to describe Wolfe Parade’s new material:

“They closed by asking if people wanted to hear something they knew or a 12-minute new song—needless to say, they went with the latter. ‘We never learn,’ Boeckner joked. Most of the audience had left to catch the second-last ferry by that point, but the faithful were treated to a linear prog rocker where Boeckner and Krug each helmed different sections of the song—confirmation that despite the seemingly competing egos of the various side projects, Wolf Parade are very much a collaborative writing unit. That last number morphed into a Krautrock keyboard jam that was an obvious nod to their frequent tourmates Holy Fuck.”

Popped Hip ain’t afraid of a little prog. In fact, they propose a rather favourable new material-old material exchange rate of 1:3:

“For the past 10 months, Wolf Parade has been busy writing what I’m not afraid to say is likely the best music to come from the Canadian scene. Ever. I wish I could say more, but I was just stuck at that show, jumping around, giddy like a schoolgirl, with a shit-eating grin on my face. Each new song they played was better than the last — all culminating in a 12-minute long masterpiece to close the show (they didn’t need to do that encore…) that I wouldn’t have traded for This Heart’s On Fire, You Are A Runner And I Am My Father’s Son, and Modern World (three of their favourites that weren’t played).

Le Vent Rouge missed the main day, but checked out the Friday evening Hootenanny, and he wants more banjo:

“… Sam of Sheesham and Lotus, put on a great performance playing the stand-up bass and banjo, even though at times the banjo was sadly drowned out by the cacophony of instruments on stage. Note to organizers: bring up the levels on the banjo, it’s a hootenanny after all.”

Hmm. Maybe our earlier ‘bring-your-dog’ suggestion wasn’t so hot. Indie Music Filter reports, ringside, from the dog fights:

“i witnessed a horrible fight between two dogs, an angry medium-sized dog (who we later named Barbaric) clamped his teeth down on a Shitzu’s neck, toss the dog wildly in the air. it was horrible. happy ending though, the fight was broken up and both dogs were fine.”

Chromewaves is running out of verbiage to praise Basia Bulat and her Polyphonic-Spree-Syndrome Band-of-Many-Members:

“Somehow, [Basia Bulat's] band was even greater in number than at Hillside, boasting ten members at points - at this rate, she’ll soon not be referred to as orch-pop but as a straight-up orchestra. This was the fourth time I’d seen her play this year so I’m plum out of new ways to talk about her show so I’ll just say that I expected her and her band to be terrific and they were. Always a pleasure.”

Photo of Spiral Beach: Natascha