Thursday • Friday • Saturday • Sunday
I’ve known Micheal “Rasta” Lewis for 25 years now, and I’ve never once heard him shook.
Until Thursday.
It was 3:15 p.m. on the dot when my phone rang for the only call I would answer all day. And, boy, am I glad I did.
It was Rasta, and he could barely talk. I could tell that he was shaking from the tone of his voice. He had just met Andre 3000.
“Russ, I just gave Andre his credentials, man.” He was so emotional that I almost started crying. For those who don’t know, Outkast is the most important band of all time for a particular brand of soulful weirdos from the South, a group to which both he and I belong. He has worked in artist transportation for the last few years, and this was a big moment for him. By proxy, it was for me, too.
The tears never came, though, because his next words were equal parts hilarious and just on time. “Jordan 3s and overalls, man.” He knew I was curious as to what our Southern funk hero had on. “Did you hold it together while you were with him?” I asked. “Oh yeah, man. You know me.” We had a big laugh.
This festival, man. Thanks to all who put it together. If you’re reading this, I’m saying hi.
Then it was my turn.
I couldn’t be more thrilled to see Andre 3000 about 10 minutes from the former Just For Feet stockroom where I first fell in love with Outkast, but with Big Ears moving up a week this year, it was up against the first weekend of the NCAA basketball tournament. More specifically, Andre’s set was up against the highly ranked Tennessee Volunteers’ first game of the tournament. This was tricky for a lot of folks in the crowd, including Loch & Key’s Andy Feliu, who was the only photographer allowed to shoot the first of five Andre 3000 shows, this one at St. John’s Cathedral. I was a bit jealous that I wasn’t allowed to shoot it, but he did a fantastic job for all of us.
I did, however, tell him that I hoped all the teams he picked in his bracket lost.
The setup for the show was simple but perfectly curated. Before the performance, a blue neon cutout on Andre adorned one of the walls inside the absolutely stunning sanctuary. When showtime came, two percussionists sat behind 3K while a guitar player and keyboardist/multi-instrumentalist flanked him. Each of the five members of the collective, including Andre, played multiple instruments throughout the mesmerizing set.
Four circular lights were placed in a square formation on each side of the band, and a single laser pointed into a glass of water that was about 64 percent full. (Prism stuff, ya know.) From the back of the room, the circular lights looked about 6 inches in circumference, but up close they were probably closer to a foot wide.
About 35 minutes in, the former emcee took to the mic for the first time, explaining his love for the people in the crowd and telling a story about asking his homeboy about this festival. “It’s for music heads,” he was told. And he heard correctly.
He also spoke to the crowd about how attendees can bring in whatever energy they have, good or bad, and send it to him, and he could send what he’s getting from them back out. And vice-versa. He explained that you never know what someone is bringing or what’s going on in their lives, and it was OK to let it out. It was a poignant explanation of the give-and-take of live music.
The only other vocals were the occasional grunt, coo or aw. Even though he wasn’t rapping, you recognized his brogue.
The music was nothing short of astounding. The new album not only translates live, it’s much better in this setting. He explained that these performances are improvised and listeners can really only recognize short stints of the recorded material. As a result, each of these shows will be different.
I didn’t know what to expect seeing one of my heroes in this setting, and I left feeling like I had just gotten a sonic massage.
This is not a kitschy, midlife-crisis side project. This is a carefully curated musical experience delivered by one of humanity’s finest and most thoughtful artists. I’d like to see it again just to see what changes, but if nothing changed, I would gladly do it all over again.
Here are some other gigs from opening day that stuck out to us. In fitting with the theme of this year about the adventure continuing, these are presented randomly for your perusal. – Rusty Odom
Secret Chiefs 3
One of the great things about Big Ears is that one often discovers entire musical ecosystems that one never knew existed, running parallel to the things you do love. Such is the case with Secret Chiefs 3. They are an ever-evolving musical collective sparked by Trey Spruance (of Mr. Bungle and Faith No More, both of whom I adore) and 47 former members. There are about a dozen albums and seven satellite bands. The edition that blew the roof off the Mill & Mine in front of a capacity crowd on Thursday was performing its last two shows before “evolving into a new phase.” In fact, this version had been retired for six years and was brought back just for Big Ears.
There were from four to nine musicians onstage at any one time, with the only common thread being that they had all played with John Zorn at one time or another, and the music was very like the heavier sides of Zorn. Like a lot of things we are fortunate enough to see, the music was somewhat indescribable. Danceable funk/psychedelic Middle Eastern jazz? Arabic death metal? All of that and more?
A single-stringed, Arabic-sounding melody played as the other instruments converged in delicate support. Then the bass would drop, and the whole thing would become this trancelike, super heavy but still danceable groove. It was spellbinding, and I wish I’d discovered them 15 years earlier. – Bill Foster
Henry Threadgill’s Very Very Circus
Lost amongst the hoopla about a certain flautist was the fact that the man who won the Pulitzer Prize for that instrument has a huge presence at Big Ears 2024, performing three shows himself while a movie and three shows by repertory ensembles highlight his compositions.
Very Very Circus is one such repertory ensemble, a two-tuba, two-guitar, trombone-and-sax ensemble that replicates Threadgill’s touring and recording ensemble from the early ’90s. It was another coup for Big Ears, with a performance of music that’s been largely dormant for decades.
The rhythm section, led by powerhouse Gene Lake on drums with Marcus Rojas and Ron Caswell on tuba was incredible, lending a real punch to some delicate compositions. Jose Davilia was a revelation on trombone, taking the instruments places I have never seen it go, and Noah Becker soloed beautifully on alto. The high point for me, though, was watching uber-guitarists Brandon Ross and Miles Okazaki take fluid (but still outside-the-box) solo after solo, reminiscent of Frisell or Ribot. – BF
Dos Fuegos (WUTK’s “6 O’Clock Swerve”)
Although not officially part of Big Ears, it was my pleasure to host Dos Fuegos, a band that definitely felt like a Big Ears act, on the “6 O’Clock Swerve” at Barley’s on Thursday evening. Drummer/guitarist Yattie Westfield and rapper Darrius Vital-Herne are an amazing combination. With Westfield playing drums and guitar at the same time (you can’t really imagine what it’s like until you see and hear it) and Vital-Herne spitting out smart, heartfelt rhymes, the duo wowed the audience. Audience members pulled out phones to video for good reason. No one had seen anything like it. Close your eyes and you would’ve been sure that this was a great trio or quartet. It was an easy way to slip into the spirit of the Big Ears experience. – Wayne Bledsoe
Nik Bartsch’s RONIN
Keyboardist Nik Bartsch is one of those Big Ears artists that you need to see at least once, but, chances are, if you see his act one year, you’ll try to see him every year. Thursday at the Bijou, he and his band RONIN proved that yet again. After a fairly short warm-up first set, keyboardist Bartsch introduced the band members and then advised the audience to “enjoy the ride” before launching into a performance that did, indeed, feel like a journey.
From a simple repeated melodic line by bass clarinetist Sha, Bartsch, drummer Kaspar Rast and bassist Jeremias Keller built a beautiful burly beast of a musical machine – sometimes complex, sometimes not, but always engaging. It was instrumental music from musicians who know how to create drama and tension with sound. The playing was precise, but still spontaneous. And when Bartsch gave a little yelp, the musicians brought the piece to a close with such a perfect and sudden stop that listeners audibly gasped. Anytime Bartsch and his crew invite you on a trip, get in and buckle up. – WB
R.B. Morris
Knoxville’s first Poet Laureate and singer-songwriter par excellence has become something of a fixture at Big Ears. He performed in front of a large crowd at Jackson Terminal at 10 p.m. on Thursday. Fortunately, our basketball Vols had things well in hand quickly, allowing me to catch most of the show. His band (billed as the New Band) consists of Hunter Deacon on drums, Cecelia Miller on cello and bass and Greg Horne on (whew) guitar, pedal steel, mandolin, fiddle and backing vocals. This new band pulls off the quieter songs wonderfully. Their take on “Maybe the Soul” was evocative, with Miller’s cello really shining. But they can bring the storm also, as they did on “Take Time to Love,” where Horne unleashed a ferocious solo that brought a huge roar from the crowd. This is still Big Ears, after all, and a noisy guitar is always appreciated. – BF
Kurt Vile
Between songs, Kurt Vile mentioned a handful of people in his banter. Notably, he evoked the names of Adrianne Lenker, John Prine and the ghost of Hank Williams. He’s obviously done his homework about Knoxville musical history, but context aside, he’s put himself in elite company. Ultimately, the guitars did more rambling than Vile did, with a jam-heavy set showing just why he belongs in whatever company he’d like to be in.
Long stretches of fuzz-heavy guitar dominated classics like “Wakin on a Pretty Day” and “Pretty Pimpin,” while his body language of reckless abandon shined on “A Good Year for the Roses.” His lone acoustic song, “How Lucky,” ended up stealing the show, though. Vile sang his verses along with the late Mr. Prine’s verses in an emotional, crowd-pleasing moment that elicited the biggest audience response of the night. Whatever company Vile puts himself in, he certainly set a great tone for the weekend. – Daniel Britt
Zsela
While wild and intricate instrumentation abounds over this festival weekend, I seek out shows that highlight the most naked and vulnerable instrument that exists: voice. Soft and feminine, sexy and commanding, Zsela entranced Jackson Terminal Thursday afternoon with an exquisitely sultry croon and such raw lyrics that the intimacy almost felt too private to encounter as an outsider. Using just a backing track, the music complemented rather than overshadowed her performance. As the kids say, it was a whole vibe, and I am absolutely here for it. – Jennifer Duncan-Rankin
Unwound
Surprisingly heavy and punishing for a large portion of the set yet patient and thoughtfully meandering for stretches, the post-hardcore foursome’s first-ever Knoxville show (by its own admission halfway through the proceedings) was a memorable late-night experience at the Mill & Mine. The warehouse-like environs of the venue, with its rustic and dimly lit interior, were a suitable host for the brutalist compositions that thundered throughout the structure. Drawing fairly evenly from across its catalog but utilizing 1996’s “Repetition” as its primary touchstone, the group’s set prominently featured more of the aggressive vocals and muscular noise-rock that defined its middle era than it did the knotty, technically complex and comparatively more melodic fare of its latter period. Still, if last year’s reunion tour after having disbanded two decades prior knocked off the cobwebs of playing live, this dynamite performance was proof of Unwound’s consummate proficiency in that setting and provided a compelling denouement to the opening night’s action – Matt Rankin
