Recap & Photos: Eaux Claires day two makes good on “more something for more everybody”
by Joel Swenson
July 26, 2026
If day one of the reborn Eaux Claires loaded the bases, day two was the grand slam to bring everything home. Carson Park’s baseball and football field stages traded a genre-hopping lineup back and forth all afternoon, and festival’s motto, “more something for more everybody,” never felt more earned. Between sets there was a lumberjack competition, a magic show, a reptile show, a juggler, and endless opportunities to play cornhole. There was also live poetry and literature readings. Presiding over all of it was a pair of ospreys that built their massive nest atop a light pole right in between the two stages, and they turned out to be day two’s most reliable scene-stealers.
Eaux Claires felt as much like a story hour as it did a music festival, with nearly every artist regaling the crowd with some history or lore about their songs. It was also a very gender-balanced lineup. After back-to-back male-heavy weekends at the Minnesota Country Club and Yacht Club festivals, it was refreshing to see a Midwest bill reflect how many great non-male artists out there right now.
Noisy openers with something to say
Eau Claire’s own Gash kicked things off on the baseball stage with a strained scream of “EAUX CLAIRES!!!!!” before exploding into their chaotic, noisy indie rock. The experimental quintet veered from jangly Midwest emo into full-on screaming, then dissolved into long spacey jams while singer Breckelle Bathke thrashed around the stage in UGGs on a 90-degree day, letting loose the occasional guttural scream. All day after their set, I overheard variations of the same question: “Did you catch Gash? They were great!”
Minneapolis grunge-pop band Gully Boys started a few minutes early on the football stage, by their own request, to trim the downtime. Drummer Nadirah McGill handled most of the set’s banter, dedicating “Me & You” to eldest siblings because “that s**t’s hard.” And they didn’t mince words while introducing “Murderapolis.” “We’re so proud to be from Minneapolis. We’re a trans sanctuary state. When the police lynch Black people, we burn their precincts down. When ICE shows up and starts kidnapping our neighbors, we chase them the f**k out. People call it Murderapolis because they’re scared of it. Good! Stay out if you’re scared.” But the highlight of any Gully Boys show is when McGill steps out from behind the kit to join singer Kathy Callahan at the front of the stage to co-front the band, a role they’re clearly a natural at.
A smoky jazz club on a baseball field
The Larry Goldings Trio brought a hard left turn to the baseball stage, a juxtaposition Goldings himself called out. With Goldings on piano and organ, David Piltch on upright bass, and Beth Goodfellow on drums, the trio conjured a smoky downtown jazz club, their set flowing like one long conversation between the players, their instruments, and the crowd. Goldings introduced each song with a bit of history and plugged his comedic alter ego, the Austrian “music theorist” Hans Groiner. The high point arrived when Monica Martin came out for a breathtaking rendition of “You Don’t Know Me,” with the trio giving her voice all the room it needed. They closed with “Blueberry Hill,” and it was a real treat watching festival goers attempt to dance to jazz.
Ambient musician Juliana Barwick and harpist Mary Lattimore kept the mood spellbound on the football stage, playing songs from their 2026 collaborative album Tragic Magic. Lattimore’s otherworldly harp and Barwick’s richly layered, choir-like vocals suited the overcast sky, and they even dedicated a song to the birds in the nest. Before “Temple of the Winds,” a song written for them by Brian Eno’s brother Roger, Lattimore recalled how nervous she’d been recording the album version of the song on a harp from the 1700s.
The afternoon peaks
Monica Martin returned to the baseball stage for her own set and drew one of the largest crowds of the afternoon, with some even running through the humidity to catch her. Her smoky alto was flawless and her banter drew big laughs. The Midwest-raised singer reminisced about writing the a capella “Stocked Liquor Cabinet” in Justin Vernon’s Airstream trailer, and turned Nick Lowe’s “The Beast in Me” into a showcase. Right after a rowdy run through of Jo Dee Messina’s “Heads Carolina, Tails California,” one of the ospreys returned to it’s nest with a fish in its beak.
If any set got everyone moving, it was Nathan and Zydeco Cha Chas. Zydeco is an upbeat, deeply danceable genre born in the French-speaking Black Creole community of southwest Louisiana. Nathan Williams has led the genre since 1985. I’ve never seen anyone shred on an accordion quite like Williams, and I doubt I ever will again. A since circle formed in the crowd almost immediately. “I’m from Louisiana where even the crawfish have soul and the alligators sing the blues,” he told the crowd in his thick Creole accent. When I say the Cha Chas got everyone moving, I mean everyone. As Williams dedicated a song to his wife of 46 years back in Lafayette, Louisiana, one of the ospreys left the nest and began circling the crowd.
Minneapolis takes the stage
Youth and young-adult choir Known MPLS got a full ovation just for their soundcheck, and lived it up to during their set. Founded in 2019 under the nonprofit Voicez, Inc. and led by director Courtland Pickens, who sang the night before during the Bon Dylan set, the choir’s members are all middle school to college age, though you’d never guess it from the power in their voices. A blistering cover of Beyoncé’s “Freedom” had the whole field moving, and they closed with the most soulful version of the Cheers theme song you’ll ever hear. If you get the chance to see Known MPLS, take it.
The Minneapolis theme continued with Urban Classics Presents: Revelation, billed as a retrospective of the Minneapolis sound but really it was a full-throated celebration of it. Led by musical director and longtime New Power Generation drummer Michael Bland with NPG keyboardist Tommy Barbarella, Revelation gathered former members of NPG, the Time, Mint Condition, Mazarati, and Sounds of Blackness for a set that ran nearly 90 minutes, one of the longest of the day. It included Prince’s “She’s Always in My Hair,” “Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad,” and “Get It Up,” the Time’s “Jungle Love,” and many more Minneapolis classics.
To be honest, it felt like a truer representation of Prince and Minneapolis sound than June’s Prince Celebration of Life show. Bland is the difference: from his throne (which is actually a piano bench), he does not miss a beat and kept the set tight. An eight-foot-tall Prince puppet even bobbed its way though the crowd.
Closing Time
Indie singer and songwriter Samia closed the football stage and was clearly having a blast, dancing over to her bandmates between verses in a red T-shirt that read “the Lidocaine Express.” “This song is about cows and where does all blood go,” she offered before “Bovine Excision.” I heard a few Phoebe Bridgers comparisons in the crowd, but Samia is in a class of her own. Samia’s set also included the slow-burning “Is There Something in the Movies?” and a great cover of Wilco’s “Heavy Metal Drummer.”
By then, most of the festival had migrated over to the baseball stage for headliner Dijon, though there was one more surprise first. At Dijon’s set time, Francis and the Lights strolled out to treat a very receptive crowd to a few songs before ceding the stage. The handoff to Dijon was unfortunately not smooth and took about 10 minutes of downtime. The eager crowd took it in stride, though, knowing that the payoff was worth the wait.
Dijon opened with the chilling “Loyal & Marie” and followed it with “Higher!” a song he wrote in Eau Claire while working with Vernon. Big overhead lamps illuminated Dijon and his band, echoing the nearly full moon. Dijon’s band sounded massive, and his voice never missed. Every song of his set had so much fire and passion behind it, and the crowd loved ever second of it. He switched between vocal duties, guitar, and synth, and some of the instrumental sections bordered on EDM, industrial, and even noise. It felt like Dijon has somehow found a way to successfully blend nearly every genre of music together into something that probably shouldn’t work but somehow works exceptionally well.
