I’ve seen Billy Strings live twice now. Lord willing, I’ll be seeing him again. I talked with J.D. recently, and he said that anyone who doesn’t like Billy Strings will soon be getting deported.
The crowd was overwhelmingly white if you can believe it, with a wide range of ages represented. There were plenty of old dead heads with a sticker on their Cadillac (or Bronco or Jeep or whatever else could almost pay off my house at MSRP). But tons of young people too—and couples at that.
I saw no less than a dozen joints get lit and ripped in the pit as well as a zyllion pouches getting packed into lips. Even saw one group distributing gel tabs—hope it was Molly or they must’ve had a wild 10 hours in the city after the concert was over.
There were guys that clearly came right from the office in their slacks and Patagonia vest. There were small groups of hippies in earthy tie dye overalls and dreads ripping cigs outside. Country boys in muddy boots and western shirts. Plenty of people that just as well could have been going to a death metal concert. Less scrupulous Fratbros sucking down whipits being hawked at all the street corners surrounding the venue.
Even spotted one boomer with his Trump cap on near the bar. I still regret not chatting with him a moment, but I’m sure he had a blast.
Billy Strings is a generational talent. When was the last time a five piece string band filled professional sports arenas? If I polled the crowd, I imagine we would have gotten a very compelling cross section of America— bluegrass and psychedelia, jam band and hippie culture, young and old, left and right are just the starting points of the cultural stew that Billy Strings represents.
As Tucker Carlson recently said Billy is single-handedly saving American music (or something to somesuch effect). I believe it. No, I find it self-evident.
Until I catch another show and write a longer piece on all this—hopefully with some shenanigans throughout—enjoy this video I took and go listen to some Billy Strings.
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