The second day of the 2022 Beale Street Music Festival began without the logistical headaches of the first day, but under ominous clouds. Nevertheless, for as long as the weather held, the vibes were good, while the music ranged from the passable to the sublime.
This time, it was my personal logistical problems that led me to miss opener Blvck Hippie, one of Memphis’ coolest current rock acts. As Alex Greene reported in his Flyer cover story, this year featured more Memphis artists than ever before. Judging from the reactions our folks have been eliciting from the throngs gathered in the shadow of the Coliseum, increasing the locals’ main stage time is the best decision Memphis in May has made in a long time.
The weekend has been a Memphis hip-hop homecoming. Friday night’s Three 6 Mafia set was literally the boom heard round the town. Lil Wyte’s show became a bone-shaking Frayser reunion, with Al Kapone joining the show to whip the crowd into a frenzy with the weekend’s umpteenth “Whoop That Trick.”
Across the former fairgrounds, Ayron Jones’s guitar heroics made ’70s-derived hard rock feel fresh. The razor sharp band’s music is made for the wide open spaces of the outdoor music festival. When they closed with a searing cover of Jimi Hendrix’s “Voodoo Chile,” I was reminded that I heard that song at my very first Beale Street Music Festival, when headliner Stevie Ray Vaughn tore it up three months before his death in 1990.
Here’s a tip from a seasoned BSMF rat: It’s always a good idea to pop into the Blues Tent for a minute to sit down and cool off. That’s how I caught Love Light Orchestra’s John Németh blowing some harp with boogie woogie piano player Mitch Wood and his Rocket 88s.
The biggest crowd of the day so far was Project Pat — and I’m talking about the crowd on the stage, too. The Memphis rap idol brought his entire posse onstage with him, including some young dancers from LYE Academy who threatened to steal the show. “Chickenhead” and “Slob on My Knob” had the entire fairgrounds getting buck.
The festival circuit, which was bigger than ever before the pandemic, can be quite lucrative for bands who can crack into it. Grouplove, originally from Seattle, is one of the groups who optimized itself for summer fun. Singer Hannah Hooper has mastered the tricky art of communicating with a huge, easily distracted audience, with colorful wardrobe and big personality. Stone Temple Pilots new front man Jeff Gutt was another skilled practitioner of the carefully considered sweeping gesture.
After impatient chants of “We want to spoon!”, Britt Daniel’s band Spoon took the stage to give the indie rock. “Five minutes ago, we thought we weren’t going to play, because of the storm,” said Daniel. After an ominous sunset, lightning was flashing in the west.
As rain began to fall in the park, I was treated to the best performance of the weekend. With the Bo-Keys swinging like a barn door behind him, Don Bryant burned down the Blues Tent. The 80-year-old singer delivered deeply impassioned readings of songs from his decades-deep catalog. As squall lines lashed the tent and people danced in the aisles, a tourist turned to me and asked in slack-jawed amazement, “Who is this guy?”
“A genius!” I yelled.
Don was almost done with his set when the announcement came to evacuate the venue. The supercell that we had all been watching on our smartphone radar apps was dumping penny-sized hail perilously close to the park, and the powers that be finally decided to pull the plug. As we scurried for the exits, I heard a passerby say “I guess Megan didn’t want to get electrocuted.”
Figuring the show was over, I called for a ride home. But the storm passed quickly, and two hours later Megan Thee Stallion and Smashing Pumpkins finally did play to the most hardy — and presumably wettest — festivalgoers.
Louis D Graflund 
