Concert Review – Big Ears Festival (part 1/4)

I may not be qualified to write up a music festival. I go to so few. But Big Ears is worth making an exception for. It happens only about an hour from my home, and it’s probably the premier festival – definitely so in the US – for those interested in left-field, out-of-the-way, avant-garde, and flat-out unusual music. And this year John Zorn was the artist-in-residence, slated for eight or so shows, AND Sons of Kemet were scheduled. I couldn’t pass it up. I’ve been once before, in 2015, when Kronos Quartet were the artists-in-residence. I saw Kronos perform four or five times over that weekend. And really, that was enough. I was pleased to see their name on the schedule for the 2022 festival, but I wasn’t motivated to see them.

As a percussion/hand drum fanatic, I was motivated to see Sō Percussion, a four- piece ensemble based in Brooklyn NY. I wasn’t previously familiar with them but thought seeing them might be a great way to start the festival. According to the schedule, they were playing after Kronos Quartet, but when I got there I found that Kronos Quartet were playing along with Sō Percussion! Also on board was a beatboxer/vocal artist named Shodekeh who was on my watchlist, in addition to several other vocalists. Possibly there were even more musicians involved – it wasn’t clear who all was on stage, but there was definitely a lot of folks up there. It was a superb way to bring in the festival: a melding of several different genres and traditions, a collaborative event that was built around the very practical considerations of which musicians were already playing at the festival and were open to collaboration. The result was impressive.

I knew I wanted to take in some international flavors at the festival, so I made Balun my next stop. This is a young-ish band with Columbian and Puerto Rican roots and, thankfully, a lot of indigenous percussion. Their music resists easy categorization – maybe somewhere between Arcade Fire and Shakira?

On your micro-genre bingo card, Balun would occupy the electro-tropical dream-pop square. There were about nine people on the stage, most of them providing texture in the form of shakers, pan flute, violin, accordion, and some type of frame drum. The frontperson, a tiny, magnetic woman with purple hair, handled all the vocals while a couple of people on the backline used a combination of hand drums and synth pads to supply the bottom end.

I’ll be honest. The use of synth pads and samplers and rhythm tracks strikes a kind of sour note with me. I realize that it puts me in the curmudgeonly dinosaur category. That’s okay.

Even though Balún sounded great, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would sound like if they shed three or four texture players andreplaced them with a really solid bass guitar player, and/or a hotshit hand drum player who knew how to bring out the bottom end and anchor the music. Ah well. It’s worthless speculation, and it kinda shaded my impression of the band. Eventually I realized that I was going to enjoy the shows a lot more if I avoided synth pads and pre-programmed rhythm tracks.

I tried to get some friends to partner up with me for the festival, but I didn’t find anyone to take me up on the offer. I really didn’t mind, though. I’ve been wanting some time alone. Of course, for that a lot of people head to the country or the mountains, but I was quite happy to be on my own in downtown Knoxville for four days. One of the great things about a festival like Big Ears is striking up small conversations with people standing in line or otherwise waiting for the next show to start. It’s easy to ask about favorite shows of the festival or what is coming up that shouldn’t be missed, and have a nice interaction with a total stranger. I’m positive that exact scenario played out thousands of times over the course of the weekend.

I got to enjoy a longer conversation as well when I went to see Bill Callahan. It was my first time in that particular venue and what was most immediately obvious was the big open floor. No chairs except in the VIP section, or at least that’s what I thought at first. But then I noticed a row of chairs along the opposite wall. Most of them were occupied already so I headed that direction and snagged one of the few that were open. As a result, I heard Bill Callahan play (along with a single guitar player) but I didn’t get to see much of that show. Instead I enjoyed a conversation with the lady seated next to me, a bass player from New Mexico. She mentioned that one of her bass heroes is Mike Watt, formerly of the Minutemen and several other projects since then. I happened to know that one of those projects is called mssv (Mike Watt is the “m”) and they were actually playing at this festival! Even better, my new friend wasn’t actually aware that her bass-playing hero was playing Big Ears, so I pointed it out to her on the schedule. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have known!

As it turns out, Mike Watt was playing shortly after Bill Callahan wrapped up, at a different venue. I had already decided to wrap the night up early on Thursday – the later act I had wanted to see had cancelled. My new friend was attending the festival with her sister, but the sister hadn’t come to see Bill Callahan. So, as a gentleman and a mensch, I offered to walk her to the Mike Watt venue, which she was happy to take me up on – it was dark, she was otherwise alone, and trying to find an unfamiliar place in an unfamiliar town. And she felt like she could trust me. I love living up to expectations in this type of situation. I got to enjoy the company of a new friend and be genuinely helpful in a couple of different ways. It really made the Bill Callahan show worthwhile, moreso than the music. I like him pretty well, but I hadn’t come to the Big Ears to watch pasty guys sing and play guitar.

I wandered back to one of the main venues, called up a Lyft ride, and tried to make myself comfortable there on the sidewalk by propping my backside on the nearest windowsill. Downtown Knoxville has great windowsills, along with some really attractive and sturdy architecture. That’s when the single greatest moment of the first day happened. There weren’t many people passing by so I was able to give them all a glance. One guy looked familiar, and I, in the spirit of being at a big music festival, shouted out, “Hey, you’re not Trevor Dunn, are you?” And it was! One of Zorn’s favorite bass players, there in the flesh. Really, the first of Zorn’s musicians I’ve met, ever. The interaction lasted a solid minute, tops. But I felt great for not only recognizing him but calling out to him without missing a beat, like my instincts had been honed to razor sharpness.

It’s a nice delusion and I enjoyed it thoroughly as I headed back to my room to gather strength for the second day. I was quite happy and satisfied. But of course, not every day is going to end on such a high note.

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