Music festivals can be more agony than ecstasy for an obsessive mind like mine. It's not so much fear of missing out as it is fully accepting missing out. While you’re seeing some show that you really want to see, there will inevitably be another show that you really want to see happening at the same time just a few blocks away or over on another stage on the converted fairgrounds. You just have to accept that will be the case on more than one occasion. If that's not the case, you may need to find a better music festival.

Now, if you can't come to terms with these music-fest Sophie's Choices, it can eat you up, repeatedly pulling up the festival app on your phone instead of leaning into the fantastic live music in front of you. I’ve had to train my brain to only take as much fruit from the festival tree that I can comfortably carry and not crave the taste of acts just out of reach.

As you might imagine, I was a bit anxious but mostly excited to be asked to cover the 2022 Big Ears Festival for Asheville Stages — four days of eclectic cultural and often experimental music in downtown Knoxville produced by AC Entertainment and founder Ashley Capps. Someone described Big Ears as the music festival for people who know a lot about music and want you to know that they know a lot about music. That's not really me, but I like seeing live music and I want you to know that I like seeing live music.

For me to be able to afford this venture up over the mountain, I would need to tag along with someone who was already going. As luck would have it, a good friend would be attending Big Ears but only on Friday. But Sparks is there on Thursday night, and Saturday night is the New Orleans “Krewe du Karnaval Ball”!!! That'll do, brain. That'll do. Friday it is.

To not obsess on all the possibilities that a music festival presents doesn’t mean you should take a passive approach — not at all. It’s good to have a plan. And my friend does know a lot about music (but doesn't really care if you know), and he had one show that he had targeted and then a few landmarks along the way for the rest of the day. So, we set out from Asheville early Friday to see 75 Dollar Bill at 12:15 p.m. at Mill & Mine, Knoxville's equivalent of The Orange Peel.

Okay, we may have been a little eager getting there an hour early, but we weren't the only ones. Music Festival Tip #1: If a band plays the night before and then is scheduled to play the first show the next day, expect a late start. For an act that’s billed as a duo out of New York City, the band that eventually filled the stage was one of the most expansive groups I’ve ever seen, both musically and compositionally. Along with founders Che Chin (guitar) and Rick Brown (drums), there were men and women, old and young, caucasian and Asian, playing bass, upright bass, viola, violin, flute, contrabass saxophone, conga drums, a guy who showed up for the last song on high hat, and another guy who just sat still in a recital chair center stage playing percussion on items that looked like they were found on the shelf of a middle school music class. An usual recipe, but the resulting sound stew was undeniably delicious.

To say that Brown plays drums does not paint the proper picture; he sits and bangs on a cardboard box. My friend took a picture of the cardboard box. Music Festival Tip #2: If you want to take photos but you're short and have a shitty camera, ask your tall friend with an iPhone to take them. When my friend posted the photo to social media, the artist corrected him that his musical throne is in fact five pieces of plywood. Duly noted.

Brown masterfully thumped out a beat on that plywood box, using assorted sticks and mallets, while a rousing sound rose around him, courtesy of the combination of elements assembled on the stage. The interplay between Chin's guitar and the two violins was stirring, like hearing hawks playfully fighting in the air. The woman who carried extended solos on flute and contrabass was fierce, making me wish I could be that good at anything and at any time — never mind shortly after noon after a late night out. The pockets of percussion and the pillars of bass further helped drive the swelling, soul-lifting sound and had me smiling and shaking my head, wondering, “How did this fest get so good so fast?” I’m only one show in and I’m already musically sated.

We didn't stop there, but would return to Mill & Mine several times. Next stop was Jackson Terminal for an excellent Latin quintet out of Chicago called Dos Santos. I'll admit I did not love the venue. It’s where we went to check in and pick up our wristbands, so it was like being back at the bursar's office. It didn’t feel like a club, but more like a stage set up for a corporate event. Still, the space was light and open with seats for those who wished to sit (not me, not yet), and a festival merch table for those who could afford such things (not me, not quite).

Even before they played a single note, I loved the look of this band, with the four original band members — Alex Chavez (vocals/guitar/keyboards), Jaime Garza (electric bass), Nathan Karagianis (guitar/vocals), and Daniel Villarreal-Carrillo (drums) — all committing to a sharp Latin look with black dress shirts or jackets and wide brim hats, plus newly added member Peter "Maestro" Vale (congas/bongos/percussion) looking like he had just come off kayaking the French Broad River in a simple black T-shirt and unadorned head. I largely followed my friend's lead on which shows to see, but had circled this selection on the schedule. I’ve long liked a Latin-influenced rock band, from LA's Chicano Batman to the Mexican alternative band Kinky from the late ’90s, and of course the legendary Los Lobos.

Dos Santos is a delightful addition to this cumbia category. They popped with their playful yet powerful lyrics, served on a bed of surf guitars, salsa drums, and catchy VOX synth keyboards. And they’re true showmen as well, not just playing but performing for their adoring crowd. They found a fun recurring freeze-for-a few-seconds physical bit during one of their songs that I wish more in attendance had joined in on as I did. It was the middle of a gray afternoon in a transitioned train station terminal, and yet the vibe was very Latin-infused, festive with feet shuffling back and forth. Well done, Dos Santos. I’m two-for-two and not terribly freaked out that I’ve already missed a few good shows, including Aroof Aftab and Angelica Negron.

There wasn’t panic but purpose as I made a beeline back to Mill & Mine to catch some of the scorching set by the prog-jazz-funk trio, Harriet Tubman, whose sound is reminiscent of the piercing guitar and eventual ground-shaking grooves put forth on Parliament's “Maggot Brain.” Harriet Tubman is a tight trio with undeniable talent, with guitarist/vocalist Brandon Ross and his signature stick guitar, the badass bassist Melvin Gibbs, and the legend J.T. Lewis on drums (as he was for acts like Herbie Hancock, Debbie Harry, and Elvis Costello, plus part of Vernon Reid's original Living Colour). Their performance pulsed with pleasure, but the tone and timbre of their music was a touch angry. They don’t soften the edges to make their music more palatable to the masses.

I was glad to get there in time to hear them play “Green Book Blues” — not about the cringey white-savior Oscar winner, but the Negro Motorist Manual that Black musicians would share to safely travel the south during Jim Crow era. At a festival that unfortunately had much more diversity in its acts than in its attendance, the introduction was a cool connection between artist and audience, and the song that followed was flippin' fantastic. The streak of quality shows continues.

We took a break to land at the hotel and such, but then headed to The Tennessee Theatre to see The Tennessee Theatre. Festival Tip #3: Make time in your schedule to see a vintage venue, even if only for a walkthrough. The Tennessee Theater is where some of the big shows were happening later than night — hello, Patti Smith and Kim Gordon! — but we’d already decided to eschew those shows in favor of more mandatory music. I’d seen Gordon earlier that week in Asheville and didn’t need to revisit that, and while it would have been cool to hear Smith and her band belt out a few of her classics in that beautiful space, we wouldn’t do so at the cost of catching Sons of Kemet.

At the Tennessee, we did more than a walk-through and caught some of the performance by vocalist Caroline Shaw, who was sweet and impressive, especially when accompanied by quartet So Percussion and all their toys, but as I have done before for many plays, I went to see the set and not the production. Wow, is that a gorgeous theater! Velvet curtains and balconies as far as the eye can see, and the celestial dome above is beyond stellar. And I don't know about you, but I feel like Cinderella when I stand under a giant shiny chandelier. A well-planned pit stop, indeed.

Wanting to take advantage of what remained of the gray outdoor daylight, we headed to the World's Fair Park Amphitheater to see some of the New Orleans music that was being featured at this year’s festival. We caught the tail end of the magnificent Mardi Gras Indian supergroup, 79rs Gang, with one member donning one of the famous feathered costumes that the city is famous for. I was happy to be among music that made people move. Not just move me — I'm easily swayed — but everyone in earshot. I was also happy to be stuffing my face with fantastic food from the row of food trucks. Music Fest Tip #4: Find the food trucks.

When 79rs Gang exited, the space in front of the stage was almost immediately occupied by Sporty's Brass Band, and suddenly we felt like we were on a street corner in New Orleans watching music from a wandering band as good if not better than any found in the clubs. That warm, infectious NOLA spirit spilled out over the cold concrete amphitheater in the form of synchronized horns, stepping, clapping, and lively call-and-response lyrics. They do it right down there in The Big Easy. I may have been more amazed by other musical acts that day, but no music made me happier than having a momentary taste of Mardi Gras.

And now back to our regularly scheduled program. It was time for another landmark show back at the Mill & Mine: Sons of Kemet. I knew nothing of this band before this set and now I feel sad for my former self. They are a British quartet formed by Shabak Hutchings (saxophone/clarinet) with Theon Cross on tuba, plus Tom Skinner and Eddie Hick pulling double drum duty, all in the service of a genre-bending blend of jazz, rock, Caribbean, and African music. For me, they fall into a category I call “relentless horns.” I know that may not seem like a compliment to some, but for me that covers some mighty fine brasshouse bands like Too Many Zooz and Moon Hooch, and even the German techno marching band, Meute.

Sons of Kemet got going and, to borrow a sports metaphor, saw no need to let the ball touch the ground at any point. Holy cow! They just howled through their set, aggressively pushing their notes into the air as if it had done something to offend them. I was worried that much of the music at this fest would be too eclectic for me. This was not eclectic — this was kinetic. Consider me a convert to the Sons of Kemet.

However, there was some music we saw that was a bit esoteric for my taste, but not for my friend. We caught a pop-up set by American guitarist Marc Ribot at the Old City Performing Arts Center. Music Fest Slight Suggestion #1: Catch a pop-up show if you can. It might be amazing, and even if it's not, it should be less crowded and you can probably find seats. We did and sat and watched the highly regarded guitarist and an animated accompanist on keyboards and percussion play some interesting stuff. I felt the same way when we were back at OCPAC later to see some of Mind Maintenance, composed of bassist Joshua Abrams and drummer Chad Taylor. In both sets, I appreciated their impressive instrumentation, but “appreciate” and “enjoy” are not quite the same color for me.

We had one last landmark show to make: the American experimental pop band, Animal Collective, back again at Mill & Mine. I was excited to see this show on two fronts: they’re a band I actually know and for the most part enjoy (there's that word again). And they’re a band that I was all set to see at Moogfest 2017 when a different friend insisted we shift stages to see his target band, Nine Inch Nails. Not my preference at that moment, but, remember, stick to the plan and only carry what you can.I did enjoy NIN and witnessing my friend's fandom fulfilled, but I’ve often wondered what I missed. Now I would finally fill in that blank in my fest-sets scrapbook.

And I was not disappointed. Featuring some of the best names in the game — Avey Tare, Panda Bear, Geologist, and Deakin — the band has been a collective for a while now and really know how to please their hyper-passionate crowd. I enjoyed their swirling, celebratory psych-pop sound on such songs as “In the Flowers” off their breakthrough 2009 album Merriweather Post Pavillion. They don’t just play their songs but play with their sound, which they do well — to the extent that they can do no wrong with their throngs of fans.

I found myself watching the crowd more than any other set that day. It wasn’t the assembly of middle-aged male music enthusiasts that I’d seen at many of the shows. This was a younger crowd that may have even leaned less male than female, complete with a few parents accompanying their amped-up young adult kids, the bulk of them smiling, swaying, and singing along loudly to the lyrics. This wasn’t just a listening room but a true concert with many fans seeing their favorite band in those musicians’ favorite setting: an experimental music festival. I'm glad I finally got to see them play their set, even if I more enjoyed how much everyone else was enjoying them. Our initial target and subsequent landmarks had served us well.

We headed to the car and a little pooped but still open to possibilities. We’d not seen anything at The Bijou and saw that vanguard American guitarist Bill Frisell was playing a late set, joined on stage by Brian Blade, Jason Moran, and Thomas Morgan, playing the music of Ron Miles, the American composer and cornetist who had recently passed away. Many of those names didn’t mean much to me, but my friend couldn’t believe the collection of talent, so we added one last stop. I’d seen Frisell years ago in NYC at The Knitting Factory and again when he live-scored music to silent films at St. Ann's Church in Brooklyn. He’s worth waiting in line for a few minutes.

When we sat down inside the charming Bijou, I could tell this was more traditional jazz than I would typically turn on, but it was nice to sit in a comfy theater seat with some lower back support and see masters of their craft cutting it up. They were all so good and clearly loved getting to play together. It made me appreciate and enjoy just what this music festival does by uniting the best musicians from genres that may not be for everyone, but for those that it is for, it just may be the best four days of the year.

(Animal Collective photo by Scott Bunn)