Reviewer’s note: Jason Isbell has said that John Prine taught him that vulnerability is the key to writing a good song (and to a whole lot of other things too) — that opening up your heart and being courageous enough to be honest about what is there is what turns a song into a true connection. Alas, I don’t have that courage— or the time and space — to write here how Isbell’s show at the Bear Shadow festival affected me.

I don’t even know if I’m done working it out yet. So I’m not going to. Isbell’s music has gotten me through some tough things, and it continues to do so. He’s just a plain cornerstone in my music listening and in a lot of my life. So, if you saw me at Bear Shadow during Isbell’s set, I might have looked like I was not enjoying it, just standing there and spacing out. But to be sure — I was taking it all in and having myself a sort of euphonic, epiphanic experience. If I wasn’t moving much, it was because I was being moved.

See? I don’t need to go down that road for another 1,000 words. It would just be weird for all of us. So, on with the review!

“Last year was a son of a bitch! For nearly everyone we know…”

Fans of Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit knew the line was coming when he brought out “Hope the High Road,” from his album The Nashville Sound for the second song of the band’s April 30 set at the Bear Shadow festival outside Highlands. And they were ready.

Sure, Isbell released the song in 2017, and the year before that was, well, you know. But in that line, he managed to capture a zeitgeist that seems to apply beyond a specific year. So, when you’re close enough to a festival stage to shout that line back at Isbell when the time comes, why not let fly with the catharsis? After all, when’s the last time last year wasn’t a son of a bitch?

And man, Bear Shadow made it easy to see this band do its thing. Sure, depending on your home base, it’s a bit of a drive up into the mountains to downtown Highlands. And after that, there’s the 15-minute shuttle trip to the festival grounds atop Scaley Mountain (unless you act fast enough to purchase a parking pass). In my case, passage was granted via full-sized school bus, piloted by a wonderfully lively woman named Jasmine, who kept the energy jocular and anticipation high aboard our yellow coach.

The transport only added to the sense of adventure and remoteness, especially when I arrived at the wide expanse of a field where Bear Shadow has set up for the past three years. And amid the tents, vendors, food trucks, and rows of folding festival chairs stood a stage that you could just, well, walk right up to.

I know, I know — I’m describing the basic makeup for any of many outdoor festivals, but look: we’re talking about Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit here! Access like this feels especially surreal when you’re talking about a songwriter and band at the top of their game. Even if you don’t consider him one of the greatest living American songwriters (which I do) or haven’t spent hours poring over his song catalog (which I have) or resort to other sorts of bombast (still me), you have to acknowledge that you’ve at least heard Isbell’s name tossed around.

So, casually wandering up to the (actually kind of modest) stage and sizing it up from a few feet away, it was a bizarre feeling to try to square it with the weight of this band. I’d imagine it was similar for fans of festival co-headliners Spoon on Friday night and The Head and the Heart on Saturday, but this was also at 3 p.m. on a sunny Sunday afternoon. So, for me, the sense of incredulity was amplified.

Speaking of amplification, opener Amythyst Kiah and her band set the stage with an electrifying performance. Acclaimed for her writing and interpretation of roots/blues music, she dispensed with acoustic vulnerability in favor of a commanding, demanding, bold, plugged-in presence, flanked by Emma Lambiase on bass, Austin Drewery on drums, and Chris Collier on lead guitar.

The combo was an excellent fit for the Johnson City-based musician, matching the power of her vocals with a fuzz-pop warp on “Fancy Drones (Fracture Me),” or sweeping up to a crescendo on the tender, painful, but powerful “Wild Turkey.” Kiah’s voice was the star of the show, though, and it gave the festival sound system a run for its money, barreling across the clearing into the mountain air on her cover of Vera Hall’s “Trouble So Hard.”

And it’s a good thing the sound system at Bear Shadow is top notch, because Isbell and his 400 Unit used every bit of it for their 18-song set. When I picked my spot in front of the stage following Kiah’s performance, I assumed I was playing it safe by posting up ahead of the show. But not many others at the festival seemed concerned with doing the same, and it was nearly showtime before there was really any semblance of assembly.

So when the band kicked in with “What Have I Don’t to Help?” from their 2020 release, Reunions, I found myself right up close to them, which is an oddity for a back-of-the-house dweller like me. But it was a great thing to be able to see this band close enough to be able to pick up their facial expressions and their communication with each other.

We’ll get to the rock and roll in a second, but I want to emphasize that this seems like a generous group of musicians, and there’s a casual confidence in their professionalism. Their glances at one another seemed to broadcast little inside jokes unknown to the audience, or just a general sense of having a blast playing with one another. And it translates. Everyone shows up, no one outshines the others, and no one gets left behind. They just get down to it.

Isbell, sporting a gray overcoat and round sunglasses, visited songs from five previous albums and a few from his upcoming Weathervanes, switching from electric to acoustic and back again. In fact, he and lead player Sadler Vaden had guitar changeouts after pretty much every song, and the Martin, the Les Pauls, the Teles, the Strats, and even the Rickenbacher, made appearances. And they each had plenty of turns to show what they’re capable of on those guitars.

The set stuck to the rock and roll path, with Isbell’s acoustic numbers like “Traveling Alone” and “Cover Me Up” refitted for full band treatment. You can tell the group has continued to modify and develop these songs throughout their near constant touring, with intros and interludes hinting — but only hinting — at what song is coming next. And the reworking was often to songs’ benefit, adding complexities and deepening their emotional weight.

On “Last of My Kind” especially, the revision changed it from a light, bouncing ditty into a more contemplative requiem for things gone by. On “If We Were Vampires,” drummer Chad Gamble pounded out a dirge march with mallets on the toms while bassist Jimbo Hart stretched the low notes into long groans of creaking whalesong, capturing the foreboding of Isbell’s lyrics. It would have been amazing to only hear these songs as they were recorded, but the updates added even more newness and revelation.

And Isbell can for sure write vulnerability and honesty — it’s kind of his thing — but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be soft and understated. There are a lot of amps lined up in the back of any Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit show, and the band was determined to use all of them, blasting the big rockers like “Flying Over Water,” “24 Frames,” and “Super 8” across the mountaintop. And I don’t know what it sounded like back at the vendors’ tents, but down front, it was a great warm, body-rattling buzz of sound with the guitars rounded out by Derry deBorja’s keyboards.

The show landed at an interesting intersection for Isbell — next month marks both the release of Weathervanes and the 10-year anniversary of Southeastern, widely considered a breakthrough album for his songwriting. The frontman made note of both occasions on stage, and took some time to dig into tracks from both albums.

And if Southeastern introduced us to Isbell’s grasp of heartbreak, regret, and resilience, both “Cast Iron Skillet” and “Death Wish” from the upcoming album show his confrontation with discomfort, doubt, and fear. These new songs also show that that kind of emotion isn’t reserved for a man hunched over his guitar — the messages go far and sink deep when launched by the full force of the 400 Unit.

Those are heavy themes to bring to a party like Bear Shadow, but Isbell doesn’t deliver mopey songs. Everyone I saw around me looked to be having a great time, so there must be something to getting all of this stuff out into the open air. That, and the guitar solos.

Isbell grabbed solos on both the acoustic and electric, casually stepping back from the mic to tear into the guitar parts like the one that finally brings “Flying Over Water” back to earth. And Vaden, catching the mountain wind in his hair in true rock fashion, delivered towering solos throughout, including a soaring slide-guitar part on “Last of My Kind.”

The party wasn’t reserved for Isbell originals, either, and the crowd responded with abandon to a cover of Drivin N Cryin’s “Honeysuckle Blue,” with Vaden on vocals, and again when the show wrapped with Fleetwood Mac’s “Oh Well.”

Missing was fiddle player and vocalist (plus songwriter/performer — and also Isbell’s wife) Amanda Shires, who I’m sure would have added to both the reflection and the ruckus, but the boys managed to hold it down anyway.

From talk around the festival, there were many fans there who grew up or grew older with this band, and before that, probably trucked out to see Isbell alongside the Drive By Truckers, and they may have even seen him play at a place like Bear Shadow awhile ago — on a stage out in a field. But for sure the 400 Unit has only gotten better and better over that time, and it was a plain hoot to get to see them in this kind of light.

If, after only three years on the ground, the Bear Shadow festival can pull off shows like this, I’m looking forward to seeing what they bring to the mountaintop next year.

(Photos by Josh Gibbs)