ven God must have been rooting for the Nateva Music Festival. The weather was perfect—enough sun during the day to bake a bit, but brisk enough at night to call for an extra layer or two that also hid the dirt. The logistics were spot on (other than a bout of traffic on the first day, and a beer garden that felt like a prison), an impressive feat for any first-year festival. And the things that matter—the scheduling of bands, the sound, and the overall vibe—should be strong enough to put Nateva on anyone’s wish list for 2011. Very rarely can you associate the words “clean” and “comfortable” with a music festival, but this one felt just right. Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips may have said it best: “You can put your butts on these toilets.”

Festival CEO and founder Frank Chandler made a promise: “We’re going to try to create an environment like a backyard barbecue in Maine over the Fourth of July weekend.” And that’s exactly what we got. You could clearly hear the music coming from the main stage (even over the drum circles) while grilling out in the onsite camping spots. The festival was small enough that you’d consistently run into the same people. You actually could make new friends at Nateva.

Nateva was one hell of a celebration for anyone who loves music and this great region of the planet. My mentality when dealing with any festival is: To each his own. For me, it was all about a steady diet of 'Gansett tallboys, a water or two when things got dire, and an endless zest for discovery. Here are my highlights, which are hazier than I’d like thanks to my friends at Narragansett. (I’ve got to say, I’m a huge fan of ’Gansett’s “Jam out with your clam out” T-shirt.)

The Flaming Lips win again

The Flaming Lips (pictured above) could be the undisputed festival champion of our generation. They play music that appeals to the jamband kids, electronic spirited, and hipsters alike. Their show is always over the top, but somehow—even after entering the stage through the whimsical image of a vagina—is always tastefully crafted in a proud workmanlike fashion. (The band even helps set up its own props and equipment.) It’s frontman Wayne Coyne’s playful, almost childish innocence that carries the experience and the songs, which range from dark bass-busting passages that could've framed Syd Barrett’s acid casualty all the way to ’90s pop fairy tales. The Lips have taken many turns in their almost three-decade freak show. And during Saturday’s headlining set, the most indelible moments came from singalongs “She Don’t Use Jelly,” the anti-Bush "Yeah Yeah Yeah Song,” a stripped-down, mostly acoustic version of “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots,” and the bittersweet show closer, “Do You Realize?”

Crowd participation is a key element at all Lips shows. That's because, as Coyne puts it, "We treat simple balloons like magical balls from outer space." Drugs may play a role, but the Lips alone produce drug-like side effects. There’s only so much the senses can take. And on that note, Coyne dedicated the gong-driven “Pompeii Am Götterdämmerung” to everyone in the crowd under the influence of LSD.

Check out Rich Gastwirt’s Flaming Lips shots from Nateva here.

Ghostland Observatory delivers a shocker

Everything was in place for Ghostland Observatory: The first sunset of the festival was on tap, and more and more people were starting to trickle into the concert grounds. Chandler even said this would be the one not to miss: A show that would catch the jamband faithful pleasantly off guard. As the Austin-based duo started-up just minutes after Passion Pit sealed its show with “Little Secrets,” a cloud of smoke engulfed the stage and most of the crowd. The thick air made a perfect canvas for lasers carefully synched to the relentless, bass-heavy electro backbeats and vocalist Aaron Behrens’ cries, which sounded like a spun-out Freddie Mercury at a rave. I ran back to camp to rally anyone I could, saying to my friends, “I’ll lose all faith in you if you don’t come to this show now.” Even with the varying levels of sobriety late in the day, the decision was unanimous among the people I know: Ghostland Observatory was by far the best surprise of Nateva. In Frank Chandler we trust.

Listen to Ghostland Observatory on Myspace.

Stages in the campground

There were two barn stages in the middle of the campgrounds. The bigger one (sponsored by the Port City Music Hall) could fit a little more than 1,000 people and felt like a base lodge at a ski resort. The smaller one was no bigger than Harpers Ferry and could probably squeeze in around 400 people before things got too tight for dancing. These stages brought the two main elements of Nateva, the camping and the music (unless, of course, you were one of the unfortunate souls with an off-site camping ticket). And the best part about the barn stages was the alcohol policy (or lack of one). It was BYOB, and even bring your own cooler.

The barns housed the late-night parties that kept music going constantly (or what seemed like it). Big Gigantic and EOTO brought us nearly to sunrise, while Toubab Krewe played fast and loose and the Felice Brothers rolled up the sleeves and brought the barroom to us after a long day of putting some whiskey in their whiskey. The roughed-up Upstate New Yorkers also played a day set that was missed by all but the early birds. The combination of the band’s raw delivery and subject matter that might’ve been more relevant in 1967 made it the perfect house band for a cold night in the woods of Maine. Along with Ghostland Observatory, the Felice Brothers was the most memorable band from the first day, and among the unsung heroes of the entire festival.

Nate Wilson Group, Ryan Montbleau, and the Indobox, three of the finer local acts on the bill, all played to packed and rowdy rooms at the campsite stages. Montbleau’s late-night set on Friday (and red-eyed main-stage set early Saturday) positioned him as the loudest voice at Nateva from the Bay State. He threw punches of soul and grit and his band followed with a big sound to match, much like Jamiroquai. Montbleau has graduated into a successful touring act, but Boston and the area still gets plenty of love. Sometimes you can even see him play a stealth solo show at Toad for free.

Listen to the Felice Brothers on MySpace.

Listen to Ryan Montleau on MySpace.

Download Nate Wilson Group’s Nateva performance for free on the Live Music Archive

Great scheduling

Each day came packaged with a certain vibe. Sunday was dedicated to the Dead, Saturday had an indie touch, Friday saw a mix of rock-enhanced Americana acts, and jambands were abundant all days. With the side-by-side stages in the main concert grounds (nicknamed Maine Stage 1 and 2), you could spend hours in the same spot without missing a note. Bands were paired well. It was as if you were given a dozen or so co-headlining bills throughout the weekend.

On Friday, Keller Williams and Umphrey’s McGee threw the first fastball, and Jackie Greene and ex-Wallflower Jakob Dylan were a fruitful mix of good-life glam and real-world guts. Saturday got moving early with the triple threat of Portland’s Rustic Overtones, Ryan Montbleau’s hangover-beating day set, and a perfectly timed pressure release from Boston reggae vets John Brown’s Body. The guys in JBB even stuck around to drink ’Gansetts and watch the Drive-by Truckers deliver a southern-fried gospel of classic home-coocked guitar rock. A lot of people slept on this set, either to prepare for the one-two indie punch of She & Him and Grizzly Bear or, more likely, rest up for the STS9 and Flaming Lips combo. But anyone who skipped the DBTs missed out on the most honest and uplifting set of the weekend.

Sunday wound be the day of the Dead. Further—the newest collaboration between Grateful Dead members Bob Weir and Phil Lesh—anchored a bill of disciples and friends that included Max Creek, Moonalice, and Mark Karan's Jemimah Puddleduck, but the sets that deviated from the flow were the true winners. Zappa Plays Zappa brought together intricate prog-runs and hilariously odd stories while Derek Trucks and Susan Tedeschi married supreme musicianship with real emotion. And the latter’s set featured some of the best covers of the festival—“Comin’ Home,” from Delaney and Bonnie, arguably the best road song of all time; the cosmic boogie of “Space Captain” by Joe Cocker; and the Beatles swan song, “I’ve Got a Feeling.” Tedeschi’s vocals were out front and equally as elegant as they were righteous, but husband Trucks’ guitar work, as expected, stole the show.

STS9 continues to evolve

Already one of the most successful touring acts, STS9 could change the way people look at dance music if they just get into the right hands. They play beats that have electronic sensibilities and can put on shows that rival any rave, but they also find a stride in acid jazz and hip hop. They have opened for Jay-Z, but I’m still waiting for the rapper to sample an STS9 song. Whatever happens, the Southern Cal-by-way-of-Georgia band delivered the goods and amply warmed up the crowd for the Flaming Lips assault to follow.

Check out this audience recording from the Live Music Archive.

You can also download a soundboard recording of the show on 1320 Records’ website.

The Silent Disco

Along with Silly Bandz, Facebook, and the Cold Activated Bottle (well, maybe not that one) the silent disco is another one of those billion-dollar ideas I wish I’d thought of. It’s essentially a rave without loud music bumping through a PA. Everyone gets a set of headphones instead. If only we’d known about this in college we could’ve avoided a few arrests. Anyway, the Silent Disco has been a mainstay and favorite late-night activity at festivals for a few years now. Look for it to take over a bar or house party near you. Silent Storm Sound System, the people behind the action at Nateva, run a weekly silent disco on Thursdays at Om in Harvard Square, and look for its debut at the Draft in Allston Wednesday (July 21). I've got to admit, it’s quite the party, and the novelty has yet to wear off even after a few spins. It’s always a good laugh from the outside looking in, too, watching people scream in unison with no idea why. And at 4 a.m. there’s something comforting about wearing the headphones. They act as a mask that hides the fact that you may or may not be a little to fucked up to be dancing at that point in the night.

Cleaniness is next to godliness

Even though I didn't shower during my entire stay in Oxford, and changed shirts only once, Nateva was the cleanest concert experience I’ve been a part of. And that goes beyond the spotless Porta-Potties. Security was always present, but never abrasive. The volunteers were friendly and the crowd was responsible. I saw plenty of parents with children, sometimes a scary sight at a festival, but it very rarely seemed inappropriate. I never saw any toddlers at the Silent Disco. The joy in the kids’ faces during the daytime sets reminded me of simpler times when everything didn’t have to make sense. But Nateva made a lot of sense to me—a comfortable music festival aimed to please a region of musically responsive people. Provided it didn’t turn out to be a huge financial loss, it would make even more sense to bring it back next year.

Local photographer Rich Gastwirt was everywhere at Nateva, both onstage and in the trenches. Check out all of his galleries on Facebook and make sure you become a fan while you’re there. If you can’t make it to the show, his photos are worthy substitutes.

Heading to the Cape or islands? Check out Cape Cod and Martha's Vineyard nightlife secrets at the new MySecretCapeCod.com and MySecretMarthasVineyard.com