Phantom Orchard at Big Ears 2025

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The harp was prepared, but I was not.

When Phantom Orchard took the stage at Knoxville’s cozy but regal Bijou Theatre, I had zero idea what to expect, having never heard of Ikue Mori nor Zeena Parkins, two veterans of New York’s experimental “Downtown” scene. But my interest was piqued by the project name and the program’s vivid description, so I welcomed the thrill of the unknown, absorbing every second of their challenging avant-garde set—even when I found myself growing impatient. (At one point, I scribbled in my notes, “It sounds like the pitch-shifted din of a wailing dog paired with miscellaneously twinkling harp arpeggios.”)

As usual, that’s a major selling point of Big Ears—unlike other, more mainstream music festivals, where you let safe bets dictate the schedule, your compass here often points toward the unknown.

Many of my highlights fell into that category: the swaggering and emo-friendly dream-pop of Chanel Beads; the Spanish-language, cello-centered art-pop of Mabe Fratti; the audio-visual post-rock hypnosis of Cowboy Sadness, who filled Church Street United Methodist with an ambience that felt secular but fittingly sacred. The shows, as always, were so tightly booked that it was impossible to see even half of them—an excess of intrigue but hardly a real complaint. And I wouldn’t even grumble about the shows that left me underwhelmed, like, for example, the ambitious but somewhat awkward pairing of indie-rock OGs Yo La Tengo and experimental jazz legends Sun Ra Arkestra. (I would have rather watched both of those brilliant acts separately, without the noble attempt at sonic fusion, but I was busy watching 900 other things to catch their respective gigs.)

Regardless, I’m happy that Big Ears is always aiming for these weird one-off pairings and unusual collaborations and jarring back-to-back shows that leave you with a feeling akin to whiplash. Where else are you going to catch the jazzy art-soul of esperanza spalding in the same weekend as the jammy prog-funk of Les Claypool’s Bastard Jazz and the classic krautrock throb of Michael Rother?

My favorite show of the 2025 edition may have been Julia Holter, who bathed the Tennessee Theatre in her stately, swirling chamber-pop. At one point, she stressed the importance of an event like Big Ears, where lineups seem to be dictated by genuine curiosity rather than Spotify streams. If only other festivals felt the same.