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'The Billy Effect': Reflecting on Billy Strings' recent Asheville run

Billy Strings played four sold-out shows in Asheville last week. Billy Strings played four sold-out shows in Asheville last week. Joshua Black Wilkins photo

Approaching the Harrah’s Cherokee Center in downtown Asheville last Wednesday evening, a mob scene had overtaken the sidewalks surrounding the venue. 

The entry line stretched down the hill on Flint Street, across the Interstate 240 overpass and around the Asheville Skatepark on Cherry Street. Thousands of joyous faces aiming to witness one of the “must-see” live acts of the modern era — Billy Strings.

“People are looking for something real,” Strings told me backstage before a Kentucky gig for a Rolling Stone profile piece I wrote on him in 2019. “They’re looking for some good songs and they’re looking for some honest, good people singing them. I think music does that every once in a while.”

Throughout Strings’ recent sold-out four-night run, tens of thousands of tickets were purchased and millions of dollars of direct spending was felt throughout Asheville and greater Western North Carolina.

According to Explore Asheville, when Strings completed his sold-out six-night run at the same venue in February 2025, the impact to the local economy was estimated to be around $15.7 million, which was much-needed in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, not to mention his generous appearance at the “Concert for Carolina” at the Bank of America Stadium in Charlotte following the hurricane.

To note, Strings was also given a “Key to the City” by Asheville Mayor Esther Manheimer during Saturday night’s gig at Harrah’s Cherokee Center in honor of his numerous sold-out shows there and his deep love for the town itself.

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Both tangible and intrinsic, “The Billy Effect” is occurring in cities and towns, in arenas and at festivals from coast-to-coast and beyond. With millions of fans now, Billy Strings has exploded across the national music scene over the better part of the last decade. And we’re all here for it.

“The energy? The crowd size? The scene? I haven’t seen something like this since Phish in the late 1990s,” a prominent regional promoter turned and mentioned to me as we stood in the back of the arena observing the Wednesday night audience hovering around 7,000 strong. “And with Billy having bluegrass at his core, we’ve never seen something on this massive level for that genre.”

A six-string acoustic guitar guru, Strings and his extremely talented jam-grass band represent far more than just radiating songs of the past, melodies of the present and a keen musical intent for the unknown horizon that is the future. It is, simply, presenting the entire spectrum of the human condition atop the sacred platform that is the live music experience.

So, why now? Why is bluegrass music — these melodic nuances known as the “high, lonesome sound” harkening back to the ancient tones — all of a sudden being sought after and yearned for by millions?

Well, for one thing, our society, either consciously or subconsciously, is pushing back against a light-speed digital world of emerging AI, this unknown territory of technology and culture we’re trying to carefully navigate amid the confusion of appearance vs. reality.

To that point, face-to-face interactions and conversations are a lost art, which also plays into the idea of “convenience vs. experience.” Music streaming services, audio books and daily texting between one another is convenient. Actually sitting down to listen to a vinyl album, opening a physical book or having coffee with an old friend in a diner is an experience.

There’s a reason why independent record stores and book stores have made a triumphant return in recent years. It’s all about the steadfast notion of slowing down and being present. It’s returning to the essence of what it means to be human, to feel what’s real and immerse yourself in the depths of your own heart and soul, your own imagination and reflection of true self.

“It’s also this lost sense of community we’re all experiencing in a post-pandemic world,” a dear friend (who has worked in the music industry for decades) said to me about “The Billy Effect.” “And there’s a lot of young kids looking for community and a genuine sense of connection, and the scene Billy has created offers that to them.”

Those Gen Z and Gen Alpha youngsters make up a growing chunk of Strings’ following, which coincides with other large chunks of Baby Boomer DeadHeads and old-school bluegrass freaks, as well as Gen X and millennial folks who grew up following Phish and Widespread Panic in a similar fashion.

And there’s also those merely curious as to what Strings is all about, only to quickly find themselves die-hard fans. This entire crowd makeup also parlays itself into rarified air, where Strings has cultivated a vast, intricate fanbase in the same vein as Willie Nelson or the Grateful Dead.

Whether it’s Strings or any other marquee act, this also brings to the light the singular force of live music. Truth be told, it’s one of the only realms in our existence where you can inhabit this space, filled with thousands of people at a concert for probably just as many reasons, from seemingly every walk of life or background, all facing the same direction and feeling this sincere sense of connectivity and togetherness often missing today on our planet.

The culmination of these sentiments resides within bluegrass music. In truth, the beauty of bluegrass lies in its transparency. Whether you’re in the midst of a good or bad day, those emotions filter through your voice and your fingertips as a musician, filter through your absolute being as a listener.

Onstage or in the studio, you can’t hide behind the music. It’s simply wood, wire and wisdom. You’re vulnerable to the listener, to yourself and to the cosmos above. It’s a rare, glorious thing to come across such honest, pure intent and heartfelt interaction that bluegrass conjures with such ease in a 21st century world inundated with constant distraction and incessant white noise.

And what’s truly wild is the full-circle nature of when Strings comes to Asheville. In 1939, the “Father of Bluegrass,” mandolinist Bill Monroe, first introduced his new sound — this fiery blend of Scotch/Irish ballads, Dixieland jazz, early blues, gospel and mountain tones — live on WWNC radio in Asheville during the “Mountain Music Time” program, which took place in a (still functioning) studio on the third floor of the former Asheville Citizen Times building on O’Henry Avenue (now Citizen Vinyl), a short four-minute walk from the Harrah’s Cherokee Center.

Much like Monroe, many of today’s youngest and brightest bluegrass stars are rebels. While bluegrass purists may argue that expanding and updating the traditional sound would be sacrilegious, the truth is current marquee stars like Strings, Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle and Sierra Ferrell are complementing and building upon the bluegrass foundation that Monroe created.

“I was riding around in a van with [legendary mandolinist] David [‘Dawg’ Grisman] for a week. And the whole time we were listening to Bill Monroe’s music,” Strings said to me. “Dawg looked back at me and said, ‘Man, I’ve been listening to Bill Monroe for 50 years and I still haven’t scratched the surface.’ There’s still so much left to learn about Bill Monroe, and David has been studying him for 50 years now.”

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