Recap Wurst Times at the High Noon Saloon, Brass Ring, and Brink Lounge

An estimated 1,300 people swarmed three large venues and their connected patio area in what started as a pointed political statement and turned into a big party Saturday at the first Wurst Times festival. The event was a way for Madison residents to continue their annual brat eating ritual if they felt compelled to avoid patronizing the big dog of last weekend’s festivals—the “World’s Largest Brat Fest” at the Alliant Energy Center—due to sausage vendor Johnsonville’s campaign contributions to Gov. Scott Walker. This Johnsonville/Walker antipathy not only incited Wurst Times, but also other independent groups of organizers to create their own alternatives to the old, monolithic bratwurst eating event in a spasm of collective DIY, can-do spirit. It was a Martin Luther moment for the brat faithful in Madison.

Minhas Craft Brewery supplied its “damn good beer,” and Sheboygan Brats provided mild and subtle sausages to fill up attendees bouncing from the High Noon Saloon to The Brass Ring and through The Brink Lounge’s two stages, then back to the patio. The line for brats was long but rapid, and grill jockeys worked ceaselessly without complaint to deliver sizzling bratwurst and veggie dogs. Brats were efficiently wrapped and delivered, and a not-too-busy condiment station had homemade relish, chipotle mustard, sauerkraut, and diced onions.

Sound separation was good, and the milling partygoers could easily drift through the audio spaces of four bands in a matter of minutes by moving from stage to stage. Ida Jo And The Show played “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” on the patio using strings to pull unusual chords out of the gorgeous trash of that old standard, and generally made attendees nod and smile with their minimal yet rubbery instrument-swapping line of attack. Optometri did its disheveled Russian astronaut bit in the big stage at the Brink Lounge, while Click Track simultaneously kept it basic on the other side of the room, setting steady instrumentation around keening vocals.

Inside the High Noon Saloon, where many brat-laden clusters of partygoers fanned out from the gaggle to find seats to eat and catch some music, A Minute Jack Forum delivered bluesy math rock, wringing precisely controlled howls and yelps of feedback out of a guitars, bass, and drums setup that showcases thoughtfully composed music with just enough deviation from the blues-rock template the band orbits to deny equilibrium. Later on the patio, The Owls sloshed efficiently through a set of gimcrack New Orleans blues gumbo with no meta-qualities, which is a fine thing indeed.

Organizers had a special thank you for the bands: “Without you, this event would have been very boring.”

Everyone—crusty, East Side types; old folks with a political bent; and young, clear-eyed idealists—seemed to be having a good time. At last count Wurst Fest raised $6,000 in cash donations along with packing four drums full of canned food for Second Harvest Foodbank Of Southern Wisconsin, which is a decent haul for a brand-new brat fest.