(Author’s note – there are several other aspects of Big Ears besides the music, including film, conversations, workshops, and more, but as I only attended concerts, that will be the focus of this recap. In addition, the photos are minimal and not the highest quality – I am not a great photographer and Big Ears is not always the most conducive environment for capturing artists during a performance. Just so we’re on the same page.)

Every year, after the last weekend in March, as I slowly extricate myself from the foothills of the Smoky Mountains and make my way back to Illinois, I’m always floored at how Big Ears manages to consistently defy and exceed expectations. Known for boundary-pushing performances, rare showings from legendary artists, and intimate displays of soul-searing emotion, the festival stands in a class of its own. After attending four years in a row, I’m no less in awe of the experience than I was after my very first trip to Knoxville in 2022.

One central focus of Big Ears that really sets it apart – the ethos, if I can say that – is the unique combinations of artists both obscure and well-known; as someone who considers himself fairly well-versed in the whole “IYKYK” side of the music scene, I’m always thrilled when I’ve only ever heard of perhaps 30% of the names on the lineup. I follow/subscribe to mailing lists for several record labels, artists, festival pages, etc., but every year without fail, the richest, most bountiful harvest of new music for my earballs is the Big Ears bill.

As has become tradition, my brother, our buddy and I set out for Tennessee on the Wednesday prior to the beginning of the fest. We always stop in Seymour, Indiana for a break and it’s nice to relax in a hotel, vibrating with anticipation of completing the drive the next day and getting out into the shows.

We woke bright and early Thursday morning and hit the road for the second half of our trek. Arriving in downtown Knoxville, we picked up our buddy who had flown in from Philly and promptly hit the merch stand. Posters, records, excellent apparel, you name it, I probably bought it. I told my wife in advance about my plan to spend a “dumb” amount of money on merch, so at least it wasn’t unexpected.

After meeting up with the rest of the crew at our AirBnb outside of town, it was time to head in and get to the music. I could hardly contain myself.

THURSDAY, MARCH 27

First stop was a new venue: 1st Presbyterian Sanctuary and Chapel. Technically two venues, our first stop of the festival was to take in the NYC-gone-backwoods experimentalist Kramer, who treated us to the premier of his album Music For Pianos and Sunflowers. The ambient piano pieces stretched out, building on each other as an unknown hooded compatriot joined him, wrapping tension and gorgeous release in pulsing piano and textural synthesizers.

One of the different things about attending a festival like Big Ears, where the performances are held in indoor venues on a first-come-first-serve basis, is deciding the best use of your time. Partial sets have been my preferred method of making the most out of my money – 2025 in particular made me super grateful to have sprung for the Premier pass option. Sort of the first tier of a fast-pass type situation, this let us make it into the last half of Tigran Hamasyan’s exceptional showing of his Bird of a Thousand Voices.

Up next was one of the highlights of the entire festival, and one of the only times I stayed for the entire set all weekend: legendary Chicago instrumental outfit Tortoise, after dropping their first new single in almost ten years, set out on an exploratory voyage, delighting the at-capacity Mill & Mine with both new material (first new songs in nine years) and stone-cold classics from their storied career. It was my third time seeing Tortoise, and they once again left me with my jaw on the floor.

From there, the group parted ways for a while – for my part, I made my way to the elegant Tennessee Theatre to catch another near-mythical figure: Béla Fleck, performing with harpist Edmar Castañeda and drummer Antonio Sanchez as an absolutely enchanting trio. Fleck’s virtuosity on the banjo needs no explanation; he is simply on another level. That being said, he was given a run for his money from his bandmates. I’ve never heard a harp played like that, and for Sanchez to hold down a groove underneath this absolute flurry of blistering fingerpicking was most impressive. Apparently this trio has a recording due this May, more excited for which I could not be.

And now we come to the big cheese of Thursday night, the big finale to the opening evening of the festival proper. Psychedelic/EDM/jamtronica trio DARKSIDE, white-hot on their first US tour in a decade, just brought the entire fucking house down. From fist-pumping psychedelic techno to slinky electro grooves, winding improvisation and boundless energy, DARKSIDE reminded me of how I felt when I was first dipping my toes into the whole jam/experimental/electronic festival scene. Few acts really bring that same level of energy and sheer fun to their show, but DARKSIDE left everything on the table and burned the place to the ground.

FRIDAY, MARCH 28

Friday morning dawned sunny and brisk, with a fresh slate of shows lined up and all of Knoxville’s charming art and food beckoning. After some eggs with coffee and toast, we all headed into town, with our first stop being Immanuel Wilkins’ Blues Blood. A delightful way to start the day! Piping hot jazz accompanied by the enchanting smell of something being cooked on stage, the melodious flow of the set energized and refreshed the group for our second day about town in Knoxville.

After stopping in at The Standard for a brief moment to check out Mark Guiliana’s percussive set, we made our way to one of the new venues for 2025, Church Street United Methodist, for Cowboy Sadness. I had seen the name on the bill, but knew nothing beyond that. They came highly recommended from a buddy in our group, so I was quite interested to see this set, and they did not disappoint! Heavenly swaths of textural ambient country wafted over us, the perfect accompaniment for the afternoon sun. This was also one of our only opportunities to pick up a cassette tape all weekend, so we naturally jumped at the chance.

From there, we hit three of my personal festival highlights in a row: Brìghde Chaimbeul transported the crowd at the Knoxville Museum of Art to the Scottish Highlands, her smallpipes echoing with an ancient, primordial reverberation. Jeff Parker’s ETA IVtet (Parker on guitar, Anna Butterss on bass, Josh Johnson on saxophone and Jay Bellerose on drums) was simply out of this world, one of the finest examples of musical interplay and world-building by artists of the highest order. From there we decided to grab some quick food at the Marble City food court – this turned out to be a wise decision, as we would need the energy for next show over at the Jackson Terminal.

Full disclosure: I had not heard of Swamp Dogg prior to this Big Ears lineup. At 82 years old, he’s been making music longer than I’ve been alive, so we had to check this guy out. His set was absolutely off the charts. His energy was infectious, and him yelling “COME ON IN” as the venue reached capacity had everyone smiling as they danced along with the stone-cold groove the band laid down. I’m not sure if Swamp Dogg himself was expecting the reception he got, as he seemed surprised and elated to see everyone loving his music so much. It was one of those special sets I feel truly grateful to have witnessed.

Next up was a bit of a shift in mood – we headed to Regas Square for the debut live performance of the Squanderers trio: guitar masters Wendy Eisenberg and David Grubbs augmented by Kramer with his bass and effects. Basically a set of ambient jazz-inflected improvisation, this was a show I’d been looking forward to since I bought their LP last winter. Crystalline and pensive, the sounds were nonetheless propulsive, with momentum and direction. You never knew where they going, but you were happy to get there with them.

Friday night brought with it three more highly anticipated shows for this author: Steve Roach, Ambrose Akinmusire performing his new project Honey From a Winter Stone, and Les Claypool’s Bastard Jazz. To delve into rich detail on each of these sets would require each performance to have its own article; suffice it to say: Roach’s interstellar compositions and the accompanying visuals were particularly mind-melting and a true multisensory spectacle. Akinmusire’s group shifted through sounds from electronic to jazz to hip-hop, then blended everything into an intoxicating new persuasion. I was a big fan of the studio project, but hadn’t had the time to delve into the members involved – this live setting was my introduction to Kokayi (more on him later!).

The big bash to end the evening was the inimitable Les Claypool himself with his Bastard Jazz improv project (Mike Dillon on xylophone, the legend Skerik on saxophone, and Stanton Moore on drums). Claypool commanded the room as only The Colonel can – as one of his more infrequent side projects, Bastard Jazz is a sought-after show for a reason. The talent between the four band members on stage is just out of this world, and they were howling like feral madmen, weaving in and out of Claypool’s skronky, ferocious world of low end insanity, building angular worlds of frenetic improv, slapping the audience’s brain right in the face.

After that run, we retreated to the AirBnb and the hot tub to soothe our aching muscles. You really put in the work at Big Ears, that’s for sure.

SATURDAY, MARCH 29

Remember how I mentioned there would be more on Kokayi? On Saturday morning, we got a bit of a late start, so when we got into town shortly before noon, we decided to head back to The Standard and see what was happening there. Once inside, the smoothest of beats started up under a familiar voice. Little did we know we had stumbled into Kokayi’s solo set, and it was such a treat to hear him get to stretch out in the context of his own music instead in addition to being part of someone else’s project. Smooth as silk and just cool beyond words, I am so happy we popped in to see what the hubbub was.

In the spirit of Big Ears, it was time for something completely different! We trekked back over to the Museum of Art to check out Allison de Groot and Tatiana Hargreaves. In the heart of Appalachia, their soft voices blended in perfect harmony over their banjo and fiddle duet. They were having a spectacular time too, if their stage banter was any indication.

Up next was a bit of a redemption set for me: British trio beak>, on their final tour with Geoff Barrow (yes, of Portishead). My last chance to see this group was in 2018 and I missed them, so I made sure to catch this set. They were sensational, drilling the crowd with driving grooves and flashes of psychedelic trip-hop dipped in krautrock while they gave each other the business and complimented the festival (this is rather common among artists playing Big Ears).

Speaking of krautrock – we got a late lunch after beak> before heading back to the Mill & Mine for the legendary Michael Rother. Arguably the godfather of krautrock, Rother was a member of Neu! and Harmonia in addition to contributing to early iterations of Kraftwerk. His music was a kaleidoscopic Rainbow Road excursion through the outer reaches of the galaxy. Every song was a surging array of synthesizers wrapping in dense, squishy spirals around towering pillars of bass and guitar, while the galloping drums kept pace the entire time, never missing a beat, building to a harmonious cacophony of swirling ear candy that sent chills down my spine.

As we wandered into the setting sun, we checked our schedule to see where the evening might take us. Almost unanimously, it was to SML (Small Medium Large), a fantastic experimental quintet featuring Anna Butterss on bass, Jeremiah Chiu on synthesizers, Josh Johnson on saxophone, Booker Stardrum on percussion, and Gregory Uhlmann on guitar. Hypnotic yet spontaneous, dense and inventive, SML wandered through a psychedelic electronic forest, chopping down genre boundaries with their laser machete sound.

Saturday night brought with it the ominous, droning, primal Irish folk outfit Lankum, who brought me to my mental knees with their singular, menacing take on several tunes I’ve known by heart since childhood. This was not The Clancy Brothers or The Dubliners – this was the centuries-old turmoil, pain, and hope of Ireland, achingly beautiful, a mystical force imbued with the history of the Emerald Isle.

With the sounds of Lankum echoing in our hearts, we set off once more for Church Street United Methodist for Across the Horizon Nights. As part of a program curated by Bob Holmes and his band SUSS, this block set featured several performers in a smorgasbord of humming ambient country, the sound of a prairie evening distilled into wondrous, glittering harmony with accompanying visuals on the walls of The Point, another church that is a favorite Big Ears venue of mine. Bucolic and pastoral, we were transported to the open plains, a gentle breeze whispering through the tall grass, with the tranquil sounds of pedal steel, harp, and warm electronics drifting hazily over the meadow. A particularly excellent portion of this whole segment of the evening was a duet between harpist Mary Lattimore and guitarist William Tyler, performing a piece they had composed specifically for that evening. Utterly transcendent.

For the last set of Saturday night for our group, we hoofed it back to the Mill & Mine for Free Form Funky Freqs, an improvisational funk trip featuring G. Calvin Weston on drums, Jamaaladeen Tacuma on bass, and Vernon Reid on guitar. Three musicians at the highest level on their instruments playing pretty intense funk with their own unique spin on it, this was the final set of our Saturday. Trudging back to the car, we were beginning to feel the wear and tear of all the walking. Big Ears demands the work!

SUNDAY, MARCH 30

After a quick morning hot tub soak, we all scarfed breakfast and coffee and hit the road back into town. We were under the impression Sunday would be a bit of an easier day, since most of the group had seen all of our “absolutes,” so to speak. Of course, this is Big Ears! Never a dull moment!

First stop was the Bijou Theatre, one of our favorites, just a real classy establishment. Phantom Orchard, the duo of Ikue Mori and Zeena Parkins, was just the perfect way to open the day: abstract, ambient, electronic, oddball, furtive, spastic, and everything in between. I’m not really even sure how to describe their music. If you’ve not heard their LP Hit Parade of Tears, you need to remedy that, posthaste.

After checking the merch one last time, we stopped by Jackson Terminal for Magic Tuber Stringband. Their haunting drones sprinkled with ecstatic bouts of spritely melody made for an exuberant atmosphere, joyous and high-spirited.

A short walk over to the Tennessee for Tindersticks was next on the agenda, and this was another group that I really knew nothing about prior to the festival that melted me live. Their sound is the epitome of noir cool, with singer Stuart Staples’s mellow baritone nestled in the band’s smoky lounge vibe. The crowd was entranced and you could hear a pin drop. Unreal show.

I’ve mentioned before how one of the best aspects of Big Ears is the surprise – the artist you may have meant to check out, but there’s only so much time in the day, etc. One of the most pleasant surprises of my personal festival experience was Canzoniere Grecanico Salentino. I was vaguely aware they were Italian, but I had no idea they were a second-generation group playing exhilarating Italian folk music as a full seven-member outfit complete with a dancer. I’m not sure if the overall spectacle or the musicianship was of a higher pedigree – regardless, it was a top-shelf pleasure taking in this form of music that I’m basically totally unfamiliar with, and leaving with a smile on my face. On reflection, they were one of my favorite sets of the weekend.

By Sunday evening, that certain wistful melancholy had set in – the final day of a festival is always a tad emotional. You’re dreading the end of such a quality time with great music and friends, but you’re also ready to get home to see your family and your own bed. However, before the final bell, there were a few more performances in store.

After CGS, it was time for one final stop at The Standard for the enigmatic Joan As Police Woman. Another name I was entirely unfamiliar with prior to the fest, I greatly enjoyed her unique sound and presence – her pink outfit on stage was a nice visual contrast to the somewhat hazy, smoky vibe of her sound. Subdued without sacrificing intensity, melodious without being overly joyful, it was a really interesting set and I’m super glad we got to take part.

Cruising through to the final run of shows for the evening, it was time for one last stop at the Tennessee. Anoushka Shankar was a positively enthralling performance, her deep, resonant sitar anchoring a formidable backing band including upright bass, drums, and clarinet. Mysterious and tantalizing, shifting through a delectable droning substrate, Shankar’s grasp on the crowd was ironclad. It felt like giving my brain a massage, just wonderful.

Back at the Bijou for the last time, Icelandic “indietronica” outfit múm were like nothing I’d ever seen, combining raw, visceral energy with delicate, mercurial vocals and melody, fluttering and shifting, a sonic aurora borealis. Traditional instruments were accompanied by several that I was unfamiliar with, and the sounds they were able to bring forth were timeless, echoing from ages past into a distant future, a voyage through a wormhole to a universe all their own. As they were supposed to play Big Ears in 2020, this was their redemption set, and they delivered in a big way. I’ve never seen anything quite like it – I had high expectations going into the show, and they were exceeded by every metric I can think of. Do not miss them if they come through your neck of the woods.

Bringing things to a close was a group I’d been a fan of for years but had never managed to see, and I couldn’t think of a better first time catching them. Explosions in the Sky might be the best closer for a festival that I’ve ever seen. Towering waves of guitars and synths crash into and over each other, breaking against the drums like the ocean against the shore. If you’ve ever heard their tracks, you know how the buildup climbs higher and higher, ratcheting up the tension to a fever pitch, before finally cracking open into a glorious peak of bittersweet yearning, resolving peacefully and floating away into the ether. As the final act of the entire festival, Explosions in the Sky fit the mood perfectly, filling my heart with serenity and gratitude to have been a part of such an exceptional weekend.

EPILOGUE

I realize I’m a tad biased when it comes to Big Ears. It’s been a source of unequaled joy for me in the recent live music landscape, introducing me to artists I might never have heard of otherwise, and providing a distinctive experience in an increasingly homogenous concert environment.

If you’re a fan of live music, eclectic sounds, friendly, walkable cities, or all of the above, you owe it to yourself to give Big Ears a try. I’ve been going since 2022 and now I can’t imagine missing a year.

I truly hope to see you there next year.