Ohio is flat. I know this. It isn’t Kansas-flat or Nebraska-flat, but flat all the same. Detroit, where I live, is only an hour from Toledo—the city Ohio wrested from us during the Michigan-Ohio War of 1836. I’ve driven through the Buckeye State many times and vacationed in most of its major “C” cities (plus the “T,” “D,” “BG,” and “M”). All of them are pretty level. Legend Valley, however—tucked near that middle “C” city—is shockingly hilly. I probably should have gleaned that from the word valley in its name, but hindsight is 20/20.
This past weekend I spent what felt like 18 bajillion calories trudging up and down (and up again) the slopes of Legend Valley while attending the 12th Dark Star Jubilee. Since 2012, Dark Star Orchestra (DSO)—arguably the world’s most successful Grateful Dead tribute—has hosted this gathering, offering three nights of epic Dead music in a way many fans feel stays truer to the original band’s spirit than the more commercial Dead & Co. Formed in 1997, DSO is closing in on 30 years together and has already played more shows than the Grateful Dead themselves—a testament to how deeply the family has embraced them. (No Sphere dates are on their calendar, in case you’re wondering.)
Jubilee weekend opened Friday afternoon to less-than-auspicious weather: a breezy 54 °F with scattered raindrops. One of Legend Valley’s quirks is that fans are encouraged to pitch tents right inside the amphitheater bowl, literally within sight of the only stage. It requires careful planning—and many sherpa-style treks down the switchback—yet once established, most folks just hang in their own space. That inertia was palpable during the chill-damp opener by New Gypsy Cowboys: a solid set that never quite warmed up the restless crowd.
New York’s subway-born horns-and-drums trio Too Many Zooz changed all that. One baritone sax, a marching-band bass-drum/percussion rig, a trumpet/cornet with occasional Casio-style keys—three guys, an impossible amount of sound, and no lyrics to clutter the groove. FUN, all caps. Next, jubilee regulars Melvin Seals & JGB (with trumpet dynamo Jennifer Hartswick in tow) kept spirits soaring and set the stage for the four-hour main course: a heaping, home-cooked helping of DSO that left most of us deliciously stuffed—and almost too tired for the nightcap.
Almost. At 1 a.m., with the temperature hovering around 42 °F, Hot Buttered Rum (featuring fiddler Allie Kral) came out swinging—literally, fast—to keep warm. Their grungy rendition of Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” ignited the valley, and a rollicking set of favorites—“Mama Tried” (Allie on vocals), “Sugaree,” plus spirited originals—culminated in a sing-along cover of Eddie Rabbitt’s “Drivin’ My Life Away.” Suddenly it was nearly 3 a.m. and Central Ohio felt like WinterWonderGrass.
Saturday burst bright and beautiful. License plates in the lot spanned New York to California; attendance looked about three-quarters of capacity—just right. Morning yoga and tie-dye classes eased everyone awake, followed by Dino Presents Iconic A, a local super-group spinning classic-rock standards while the family fueled up. Pro tip: the Yura Bowl food truck served a stellar teriyaki-ginger-shrimp bowl—real food at fest-friendly prices.
Wisconsin sent us Armchair Boogie, and the cheese-curd cowboys obliged with banjo-driven fire. Mid-afternoon, the curiously named Organ Fairchild—yes, a nod to ’80s screen legend Morgan—appeared. Three seasoned players, zero vocals, immaculate gear, and ferocious jams: organ, drums, and a guitarist who shredded daylight into the crowd. A delightful surprise.
Next came jam-grass stalwarts Leftover Salmon, celebrating founding member Drew Emmitt’s 63rd birthday. Cake appeared; jokes about “special ingredients” flew. Bassist Greg Garrison (criminally under-praised) teamed with drummer Alwyn Robinson to anchor a blistering set, while Drew’s Strat, Andy Thorn’s Banjocaster, and Vince Herman’s washboard sparked a wildly dance-happy audience.
What follows polyethnic Cajun slamgrass? moe., amps cranked to 11. Their full-electric onslaught erased everything before it like bare skin on sandpaper. I hadn’t caught moe. in years; reconnecting with their brand of jam was electric. DSO then delivered another four-hour paean to Grateful bliss, coaxing the crowd into a trippy-chill reverie. Asheville’s secret weapon Toubab Krewe closed the night with their singular fusion of West African grooves and modern rock—again, no vocals. They rocketed out of the gate but tapered off as fatigue (and perhaps confusion) set in; still, their 21-string kora left plenty of campsite chatter.
Sunday Funday arrived—no work Monday! Agile stilt-walkers led a kids’ parade while morning yoga stretched weary limbs. Early-afternoon acts struggled to spark the crowd; two long nights and 24-plus hours of music were taking their toll. Eventually Daniel Donato’s Cosmic Country roused everyone, segueing perfectly into The Warren Haynes Band. The Allman Brothers alum’s blues-soaked guitar fireworks had fans begging for more, priming them for DSO’s final marathon.
Across the weekend, DSO played more than 12 hours, with members even sitting in during guitarist Jeff Mattson’s afternoon set. Sunday’s closer—featuring guest turns from Daniel Donato and Warren Haynes—was every bit as potent as the previous two nights. DSO are truly the jam scene’s Iron Men.
Dark Star Jubilee belongs on every jam-grass fan’s bucket list. The staff is top-notch, and the venue’s permanent stage, stellar sound, and vibrant lights make for a fantastic experience. The lineup stays eclectic yet centered on improvisation, cell service is steady thanks to proximity to Columbus, and—porta-potty logistics aside—this fest is about as close to perfect as it gets.
