Weather-wise, this year's Hopscotch Saturday was the best and worst of times. The afternoon could not have been more perfect for drifting from one day party to another, catching snatches of bands playing outdoors on the streets of downtown Raleigh -- Mount Moriah, Double Negative and Megafaun among them. It was a thrill to hear the iconic dB's do "Love Is For Lovers" and "Ask for Jill" back to back (which might rank one-two on my personal dB's top-10 list); and I got lucky with Megafaun, too, when they did my favorite song of theirs, "The Fade." Lovely as always, if you go in for heart-stoppingly lovely.

Alas, Saturday evening was when the bottom dropped out of the sky for the second time in three days, a downpour that threw the City Plaza main-stage schedule into chaos. For a while, it seemed in doubt as to whether or not headliners the Roots would be able to play. But they finally got started about 9:45.

It was worth the wait, too, because the Roots were capital-A Awesome. If you missed them Saturday night, well, it sucks to be you. It felt like watching George Clinton's P-Funk All-Stars in their prime, or the Meters. The lineup included a sousaphone, which made for all sorts of cool second-line rhythms. Black Thought was a wonder on the mike, and ?uestlove his usual amazing self on the drums.

But I thought the real star of the show was guitarist Captain Kirk Douglas, who flat stole the show with an incredible version of "Sweet Child o' Mine." It rocked as hard as the Guns N' Roses original, but with The Funk and even a sense of humor. The whole set was like that, as the Roots bounced back and forth between hot funk, birth-of-the-cool bop and crushing blues-rock. And not only were they tight as can be, they pulled off stage moves the '60s-vintage Temptations would have envied.

I think my favorite part was watching the Roots pogo up and down during a second-line funk workout, and remembering Chapel Hill's Superchunk doing the same thing during a revved-up punk song on the very same stage at last year's Hopscotch. Getting you in touch with the random interconnectedness of all things is what a festival is supposed to do.

Day two photo gallery

It would be silly to call Zack Mexico surf music from the moon -- there's no water up there, let alone oceans. But you wouldn't have ocean tides without the moon's gravitational pull. So think of this Kill Devil Hills quintet as inhabitants of the dark side of said orb, where they lasso the centripetal forces of the galaxy to ride waves of skronk across the astral plain. If that ain't surfing, well, I don't know what is.

Zack Mexico's set at the Contemporary Art Museum was the high point of Hopscotch Friday, which offered another fantastic day and night of music. Even if you don't have a festival wristband, you should be taking advantage of the day parties at various clubs around downtown. Pretty much all of them are free and open to the public, and all you have to do to find them is to follow your ears; downtown has been hoppin'. I spent most of Friday afternoon camped out at Deep South, witnessing excellent sets by Toddlers, Old Bricks and Lazy Janes, among others.

The nightcap included nightclub anthems with Wylie Hunter & the Cazadores, Yo La Tengo in a mostly mellow (for them) tone and the stately country-rock of Hiss Golden Messenger -- all stellar, especially a heartbreakingly beautiful new song from Yo La Tengo's upcoming album -- and idiosyncratic folkie Mountain Goat John Darnielle doing heavy-metal covers on a piano, accompanied by gospel-style backup singers. It was weird and wonderful, but also late in the evening; I wish I'd had the energy to last through the whole set.

Still, you want to talk weird and wonderful, it doesn't get any better than the aforementioned Zack Mexico, a young quintet dressed in castoff beachwear that looked like it had been shoplifted from an Outer Banks thrift shop. They alternated between withering Captain Beefheart-esque flipouts, ambient drones and rippling jingle-jangle guitar-pop, with turn-on-a-dime transitions. The interplay between the group's three guitarists (each equipped with a full rack of sound-effects pedals) was amazing, and the set ended with three out of five members writing around the floor as the bandleader flung his guitar in the air, trying to hook it on an overhead rafter as the crowd howled.

You really should be out seeing this stuff...

Day One Photo Gallery

I'll guarantee you something, the two most relieved people in Raleigh, North Carolina, Thursday evening were Hopscotch co-directors Greg Lowenhagen and Grayson Currin -- who dodged a major weather bullet when that day's epic downpour coincided with the day the festival didn't have a big outdoor show. Fingers crossed their good-weather mojo lasts through the weekend, and they get fair (or at least dry) skies the next two nights.

Meantime, night one of Hopscotch III was a fine time. Durham's Wood Ear played a solid set of measured twang rock, far more rocking than the group sounds on-record. Tom Maxwell was fun as ever, especially the cautionary "Jacob Marley." And Charlie Parr's driving, droning country blues sounded like a product of deepest Appalachia (except he's from Duluth, Minn.).

But the unchallenged high point of the first night was Matthew E. White from the Richmond jazz combo Fight the Big Bull, fronting a 30-piece band to recreate his new album "Big Inner." No, that number is not a typo. White himself made it 31 people onstage, an ensemble that included eight string players, an eight-piece horn section and a seven-voice choir. This was something they'll probably never have the means to do again, and it was spectacular. Equal parts soul revue and Phil Spector-ish Wall of Sound, the music was a sinuous and overpowering groove reminescent of some of David Byrne's eclectic explorations.

Early on, Currin scurried out to bring water to the musicians, ducking down so as not to appear obtrusive. Now that is a full-service festival co-director.

Hopscotch continues Friday and Saturday, with day parties around town, Jesus and Mary Chain on City Plaza Friday, The Roots on Saturday (with an after-party to follow at Six Forks Pub) and a total of 175 acts in 15 venues around downtown. For preview coverage, see this story in Friday's paper. And we'll see you around and about.

Well, better late than never: We're at the tail end of season three, and the city of Raleigh has finally found a title sponsor for the Downtown Raleigh Amphitheater. Henceforth, the 5,600-capacity outdoor concert venue will be known as the Red Hat Amphitheater, as sponsored by open-source software company Red Hat (a downtown Raleigh tenant since 2011).

The deal is effective immediately and runs for five years, into September 2016. According to Doug Grissom with the Raleigh Convention Center, Red Hat is paying $235,000 a year, which comes to $1.175 million over the course of the deal.

Since opening in June 2010, the amphitheater has hosted big acts including Mumford & Sons, Wiz Khalifa and My Morning Jacket. There are seven events still to go this season, highlighted by Florence + the Machine on Sept. 21 and Gotye on Oct. 1.

Sometimes this job lands me in some pretty cool places. Like the Red Clay Ramblers' rehearsal space out in the wilds of Chatham County, where I spent a very comfortable evening recently listening to them hold forth about music, food, life, times and what-not. I think I most enjoyed listening to them do this one -- I even joined in a bit myself (the parts I could remember, anyway) -- but everything they played that evening was pretty amazing.

The Ramblers are marking their 40-year anniversary this fall in low-key fashion, and you can read all about it here.

Well, it turns out that James Taylor won't be the headliner after all at Thursday's Democratic National Convention finale in Charlotte. The musical lineup at Bank of America Stadium is now:

Foo Fighters
Mary J. Blige
Earth, Wind & Fire
James Taylor
Delta Rae
Inspire the Fire
Marc Anthony (singing the national anthem)

Ledisi, DJ Cassidy and Durham resident Brandford Marsalis are among the acts performing earlier in the week. But what I want to know is this: Will there be an empty chair onstage?

Photo gallery

RALEIGH – Jim James, psychedelic-shaman frontman of the Kentucky rock band My Morning Jacket, has this...thing he does with his voice that’s rather remarkable. It’s a special effect that’s hard to describe, because phrases like “high lonesome wail” seem inadequate. And it’s not even something as simple as projection. It’s almost the opposite of that, in fact.

When James really lets loose, it feels as if he somehow opens up a hole in the universe and lets it pour through his voice, producing a howl that seems to emanate from the coldest, furthest reaches of deep space. To his credit, James doesn’t overdo this effect. But when he breaks it out, it’s amazing.

Sunday night found My Morning Jacket playing the final date of its tour at the Downtown Raleigh Amphitheater. Between the headliner and opening act Band of Horses, it was a generous dose of American roots rock from the beard-and-gimmie-cap division. The hairy part of that description especially goes for James. You heard him fine; but between his thick beard and mane of hair, it was almost impossible to get a good look at his face.

Following an agreeable hour from Band of Horses, My Morning Jacket came onstage accompanied by waves of trippy ambient sound effects and kicked off with “Rollin’ Back,” a song that has evolved a great deal since the 2003 studio version. It’s still as spacy as ever, but with lots more of a hard-rock pulse.

Classic-rock overtones were definitely the order of the day, especially on the songs from My Morning Jacket’s most recent effort “Circuital” – an album whose overall vibe is reminiscent of The Who circa “Quadrophenia.” Over the course of two-plus hours, the band variously evoked Pink Floyd (with lasers throbbing at seizure-inducing paces), the Grateful Dead and that fictional band from the ’70s-rock movie “Almost Famous.”

Jerry Garcia, the late Grateful Dead icon, would have loved this bunch. Completing the Dead-friendly feeling, there were a few “twirlers” dancing about in the crowd, acting out My Morning Jacket’s extended jams. For all the instrumental fireworks, however, almost every song proceeded at a deliberatepace. The occasional jam that accelerated to anything faster than mid-tempo was rare enough to be startling.

With the songs flowing into each other seamlessly, there was no between-song chatter to speak of. Underrated as a guitarist, James got in some pretty good licks on his Flying V guitar and the entire band played quite well. But James’ voice was still the main draw, especially when he’d hit that high, spooky place and evoke choirs of unearthly angels.

It even worked at quieter volumes, like the acoustic encore version of “Wonderful (The Way I Feel)” with Band of Horses’ Ben Bridwell out for a vocal cameo. The rest of Band of Horses also joined the headliner onstage during the encore for a rousing cover of George Harrison’s “Isn’t It a Pity.”

But it wasn’t.

A lot of years, it can be difficult to figure out what we should focus on in the annual fall arts preview. But not this year. Carolina Performing Arts is putting on a multi-faceted and incredibly ambitious program, "The Rite of Spring at One Hundred," premiering various works inspired by the centennial anniversary of the fabled (and oft-covered) Stravinsky masterpiece.

The series commences in late September and runs into next spring. For particulars, see the story in Sunday's paper.

It's become a quadrennial ritual for us to see a lot of Chapel Hill expatriate James Taylor in his former home state during election years. With North Carolina once again shaping up as a key swing state in November's presidential election, that will be the case this year, too. Taylor has been announced as the featured musical guest at President Obama's nomination speech, Sept. 6 at Charlotte's Bank of America Stadium -- and one of his opening acts will be rising local country band Delta Rae.

In 2008, you might recall, Taylor played a series of five shows for the Obama campaign in North Carolina, including an exceedingly mellow get-together in downtown Raleigh a couple of weeks before election day.

Photo gallery from Saturday's performance

DURHAM – Early on during his Saturday night show at Durham Performing Arts Center, George Jones paused to offer up a bit of philosophy from The Gospel According to Jones. He allowed as to how he didn’t much care for the modern era’s “hot young country radio,” especially the fact that it shies away from cheatin’ and drinkin’ songs. Surveying the crowd, he gave the punchline with a standup-comic’s timing.

“I wouldn’t a had a job!”

Indeed, it’s hard to imagine “The Possum” without songs about life’s carousing side. And even though time and indulgences have robbed him of most of his voice (he turns 81 years old next month), Jones still has impeccable timing, a way with a one-liner and fierce fashion sense, as evidenced by his stage attire – a dark plaid sharkskin jacket that appeared to date from the Carter administration.

Jones’ performance did not get off to an auspicious start, however. His Jones Boys backup band did three songs before the star’s entrance, which was also preceded by the bass player announcing that Jones was recovering from an illness, “and we hope you’ll understand if he’s not 100 percent.”

Even with diminished expectations, the opening “Tell Me Why” was pretty dismal. Jones’ voice was a harsh croak, and he was so low in the mix that the band and backup singers drowned him out.

Fortunately, he seemed to gain strength as the set wore on, thanks to judicious pacing and a couple of fiddle-tune instrumentals (“Black Mountain Rag” and “Fire on the Mountain”) that allowed Jones to catch his breath. “Who’s Gonna Fill Their Shoes,” with a video montage of departed stars including Conway Twitty, Hank Williams and Buck Owens (as well as the still-living Loretta Lynn, oddly enough), went over well.

But the songs about drinkin’ and carryin’ on got the best response. “Tennessee Whiskey” was still a hit, and the 20-something mooks seated directly behind me hollered along with every word of “Bartender’s Blues.”

The pacing paid off in that it allowed Jones to save his best for the end. Even without the 1980 studio version’s massive wall of strings, “He Stopped Loving Her Today” remains a marvel. The song fits him better now than it did three decades ago, although somebody chose this moment as the one to pay tribute to Jones’ nickname by throwing a stuffed possum onstage.

“I thought it was a skunk,” Jones quipped.

“Today” was Saturday’s penultimate song, and Jones closed with “I Don’t Need No Rockin’ Chair” – flashing enough of an ornery growl to make it seem like more than an idle boast. But he didn’t push his luck, waving goodbye after a single verse and letting the band vamp on as he took his leave.

Saturday night began with local country singer John Howie Jr. living a dream, sharing a bill with George Jones as opening act. Not surprisingly, Howie was wearing a smile as broad as Texas when he walked onstage.

Howie and his band (with Southern Culture on the Skids drummer Dave Hartman filling in for the late Matt Brown, who died of a heart attack in April) played an excellent 40-minute set, highlighted by an ace cover of Buck Owens’ “Hello Trouble” in which Billie Feather played a solo on a standup bass twice her size. You could tell this was a career highlight, and they made the most of it.

“We are thrilled to be here,” Howie said between songs. “It is the honor of honors.”