The Bulletin file photoDarlingside — left to right, Don Mitchell, David Senft, Auyon Mukharji and Harris Paseltiner — performs at the Sisters Folk Festival last year. The three-day celebration of American roots music returns to Sisters this weekend.

In past years, I’ve attended the Sisters Folk Festival, watched a bunch of artists and bands perform and left with some big, overarching takeaway about the state of folk music or the importance of this particular event or what have you.

If that sounds like overthinking it … well, it probably was. I like thinking and I like music. Overthinking music is going to happen.

But this year, I’m going the other direction. Sometimes, you can just go to a festival and enjoy the acts and that’s it.

So let’s cut the crap and do this real straightforward style:

• My 2014 Sisters Folk Festival started Saturday afternoon at the main stage, where I made sure to catch Massachusetts roots-pop band Darlingside, who was recommended to me with great fervor by SFF’s creative director Brad Tisdel.

Good news: Tisdel knows what he’s talking about. Darlingside is four young dudes whose harmony-heavy songs crackle with energy. They started off doing “Open Door,” an incredible, almost-a cappella song with the kind of melody that’ll stop you dead in your tracks. When they followed that with a cover of Smashing Pumpkins’ classic “1979,” I moved to a remote corner of the giant tent, as far from others as I could get, so I could sing along guilt-free.

After a handful of songs, New Jersey singer-songwriter Heather Maloney joined the band for a cover of Joni Mitchell’s “Woodstock” that earned a standing ovation.

• That’s about when I headed to Melvin’s Market, where local rock band Wilderness was playing songs from its outstanding 2013 album “Homeward From the Battle,” including “Broken Man,” whose nifty riff is the centerpiece of an inescapable BendBroadband ad campaign. I suddenly wanted to talk to someone about bundling my cable and Internet service.

Wilderness shook me out of that mindset, though, with a gloriously loud set that stretched the festival’s ever-evolving aesthetic footprint. Highlights included Nora Smith’s restorative keyboard work on “Maybe Tomorrow” and the funky final two minutes of “River Ghost,” which really highlight Jared Smith’s knack for taking his pop songs to delightfully unexpected places.

• Back at the main stage, Denver buzz band Paper Bird was settling into the smoothest set I saw, fronted by not one, not two but three skilled, distinctive and charismatic female vocalists. Three!

They harmonized and traded leads while three guys backed ’em. Together, the sextet eased through song after song, equally rootsy and jazzy, and so soulful I swear one number sounded like the Jackson 5. Meanwhile, “Just Sing” floated by like a butterfly, gorgeous and fluttery and bewitching. This band has “it.”

• The backyard at Angeline’s Bakery is my — and most folks’, probably — favorite SFF venue. Cozy and dimly lit after dark, it’s like an artsy fever dream come to life. That’s where Jeffrey Martin, Corvallis-based singer-songwriter, delivered my most traditionally “folk” experience of the night.

One guy, one guitar. A sense of humor and some tunes. Martin was commanding as he sang downcast songs that rang out sharp and clear into the navy blue night sky. His ode to optimistic barflies, “Legs to the Moon,” was hilarious and sad. If that’s not Martin in a nutshell, I don’t know what is. The guy is a huge folk talent just waiting to break out.

• Half-a-block west and a block to the north, Portland folk-rock band Black Prairie played a set at Sisters Art Works that showcased their impressive chops, if not a ton of personality. They were breezy on the interstate love song “The 84” and downright ominous on “Fortune,” which sounded like a proggy outtake from The Decemberists’ “The Hazards of Love.” (Two-thirds of Black Prairie is 80 percent of that famous Portland band.) “Stoner folk-rock,” one of the players said when the song was done, and that was spot on. It was a shame they battled sound problems that never subsided while I was watching.

• I made a quick detour to Melvin’s Market to catch a few songs by throwback Americana band Hot Nut Riveters, led by former Asylum Street Spanker and consummate showman Guy Forsyth. They were terrific and hilarious, and the crowd — including lots of young folks — ate it up. I did too, but I had somewhere to be.

• Ever since I discovered the music of Cahalen Morrison and Eli West a few year ago, they’ve been one of my favorite rootsy acts. I find their lithe union of old-time, country and bluegrass strangely intoxicating. So I wasn’t going to miss their set at the intimate Depot Cafe, just down the street. From the prairie hymn “Down in the Lonesome Draw” and the a cappella stunner “My Bloody Heart” to the understated modern-grass soar of “Lost Lovin’ Gal” and “My Lover, Adorned,” the duo — warm and funny between songs — were the highlight in a lineup and night full of highlights.

They closed with a cover of Alice Gerrard’s “Voices of Evening,” which includes this couplet:

“Voices of evening, voices of night/

Whisper to me of a world of delight.”

For five hours on a Saturday night, at least, Sisters felt like heaven to me.

— Reporter: 541-383-0377, bsalmon@bendbulletin.com