Overlooked is a bit of a loaded word when it comes to the Big Ears Festival. The festival features so much music unlike anything you’ve ever seen, that it’s truly impossible to see it all. For an introvert like myself, FOMO became a relatively new and profoundly constant state-of-mind throughout the weekend. Some of the most talked about performances of the weekend — such as Spiritualized, Mountain Man, the Messthetics, and Dejohnette Coltrane Garrison, only the last of whom I saw — simply conflicted with other performances on my schedule. So having missed some of the most impressive and mind-bending performances, how can I even refer to other acts as overlooked? Big Ears just offers so much.
The most FOMO-inducing moment of the weekend was exiting a performance which settled the fact that ambient music just isn’t my thing, only to hear raves about the Spiritualized concert across the Old City at the Mill & Mine. Festival-goers settling in for the next performance called it one of the more remarkable acts they’ve seen in years at this festival. At Big Ears all your decisions hold weight, and the chance to miss out is ever-present; yet, sometimes finding those surprising performers you’ve never heard of is way more rewarding.
Having attended many wonderful acts, and some let-downs, three particular performances I didn’t hear anyone else talk about struck a chord with me. These three were equal parts moving, surprising, and just really, really good.
Altered Statesman
My favorite performance of the weekend was a short, opening night set at the Pilot Light, one of Big Ears’s few open-to-the-public venues. Each member of the Nashville blues band Altered Statesman play as if they were secretly the most talented member of their previous band. Led by frontman Steve Poulton, the Nashville Scene has referred to the band as white soul with a bohemian edge. It’s maybe a little less complicated than that to my ears.
Although originally from Ohio, Poulton’s waxy voice surrounded by the blues-rock band strikes me as uniquely Tennessean. People outside Tennessee have a tendency to think of it as a musical one-trick pony. In reality, the state is musically diverse. With the bluegrass of East Tennessee and the jazz of Memphis meeting via I-40 in Nashville, Altered Statesman is a perfectly Nashville band. Shaded by Tennessee’s two musical and geographical bookends, the band’s unique sound is informed and deeply enriched by music history.
Altered Statesman is rarely serious, as Poulton opened the show by shouting out his phone number so he could presumably text a link to their new record to anyone in the crowd who texted him. He repeated his phone number several times throughout the 40-minute show. Despite this running joke, the music is never quite light either. “This next one is about… uh… healthcare,” said Poulton before one of their final songs. Their music is enigmatic in the loveliest way.
Theo Bleckmann
The German singer’s set called “Berlin – Songs of Love and War, Peace and Exile” fits the exact mood the title suggests. Sometimes whimsical and entertaining, other times scathing and melancholic, Bleckmann’s performance portrayed harsh war-torn realities of Cold War life in Berlin primarily through his animated performance, voice, and the lovely accompanying piano.
Although the set varied in terms of intensity — and in language spoken — Bleckmann never lost the audience’s attention. Culminating in one haunting, looping soundscape performed mostly with Bleckmann’s voice followed by a comedic song used to teach the audience some German words, this particular performance felt both a century old and brand new.
Matt Wilson’s Honey & Salt
“You know, I’m from Knoxville… Illinois,” said Matt Wilson at the outset of his jazz band’s incredibly entertaining performance at the Bijou Theater. A concert tribute to the poetry of Carl Sandberg, Wilson’s freewheeling spirit made for an exciting and spontaneous performance. Possibly the highlight of the performance — and my festival experience — was a thrilling clarinet solo by Jeff Lederer that included the musician stepping behind Wilson’s drums, placing the bell of his instrument onto the snare drum as Wilson flicked his keys and Lederer slapped some drums and cymbals. It was a truly strange and spontaneous moment that opened up new possibilities for the avant-garde jazz band.
The sweet and savory invocation of the name Honey & Salt provides keys to understanding their myriad of sounds. One song would be slow and lovely. That song would be followed by Lederer and Wilson doing whatever the heck they wanted and hoping the noise they made would provoke. It worked for me.
