I once heard folk tales about the dark caverns of Tennessee. How shadowed figures loom in the trees, watching the entrances and in deceptive calling and owl-like eyes, lure consumed fools into carnivorous and chilling depths. Beasts burrow through tunnels, an ancient trick to confuse prey seeking the sound, and are swallowed, rarely spit out. Stalactites drip into twinkling pools and form a shudder of stars reflecting a deep underground, a mirror, a portal to the universe as they echo a song, pattering puddles orchestrating a rippling hum of reverb.
Before I knew it, I was in front of a devouring mouth, agape, and singing. A fossilized ancient animal solidified in stone with jagged teeth chipped and a drooling stream off its tongue marking the bottoms of my feet. Its depths I could not see, yet one thing rang true: I was at The Caverns, here to see the bellowing beast bringing ballads.
On July 26th, 2024, I visited The Caverns in Pelham, Tennessee, to see the prolific musician, composer, and artist Buckethead. He is an enigmatic but highly sensitive and capturing musician who has been enrapturing listeners for well over 30 years. Buckethead can transform into any genre, sound, and even flow he desires. This is exemplified in the fact that he has well over 700 musical creations between his studio albums and beloved “Pike Series.” These do not include his numerous collaborations with fellow musicians such as Bootsy Collins from Parliament, Les Claypool and Brain from Primus, and his time as Guns and Roses’ guitarist from 2000 to 2004. This fact alone is enough to solidify Buckethead as an extremely important and defining person in music. To not acknowledge and respect his art, whether you enjoy it or not, would be a disservice to music itself as this one man’s talent and creativity have defined the capabilities of a human’s, unless it turns out he is a robot, ability to create with sound.
One of the most interesting parts of the whole event ended up being the queueing in the line before the show. While many artists have a long queue time because of the urge to be front row or access exclusive merch, Bucketheads fanbase’s urge is a bit different. Part of why this moment is so integral to the show is because a tradition that Buckethead has with his fans is to toss them children’s toys or gifts. This is a very special moment in the show because Buckethead, an identity closely guarded, dares to break the wall between star and fan in a very different way than the typical throwing of a guitar pic, which he does as well, or something as bold as crowd surfing. Instead, this act comes off as a genuine way to give back to his dedicated fans and connect with them beyond his mask. These acknowledgments resonate with the fanbase enough for them to show up hours early and stand in line just to get the chance to share that moment with him. I included.
I was positioned in line roughly 10th in between two young guys and a father and his daughter. I instantly struck up a conversation with the father to learn they drove from Alabama and learned this was her second show of Buckethead’s. He raved on about various bands he's seen in the past and why Buckethead was so beloved to him. He recounted his times seeing him and why he would always see him again. It was special to see the generational passing of music. But another interesting conversation presented itself to me when we talked to two young guys around my age, 21, who were undying followers despite their youth and could name fragments of songs and albums and specific dates to follow; an impressive feat when I remind you of Buckethead’s 700+ discography. I saw their lust for creation as they saw it through the white eyes of their guitar god, never knowing if creation had noticed them.
Beyond them, a group of older fans was gathered, dressed up, chatting about their own experiences with Buckethead. Some claimed this show was their 36th or a few away from their 100th and how excited they were for this one in particular. All of these stories and unravelings of memories were founded on a sense of community I had not heard of in any line to wait before. I had only glimpses from hearing about the people who followed bands like The Grateful Dead, where they looked away from differences and just to a singularity. Music.
Eventually, we were fed into the venue and once at the front barrier, looking at the venue, it felt surreal. The Caverns were dark but luminous from blue lights, slick, ragged, yet full: a space swallowed by standing statues fixated on stage.
His performance was nothing less than mesmerizing. For a fan who had only listened through 40 to 50 albums and pikes of his, I knew I would not be able to pick out every song he might play or see the nuances of how he chooses to play them live, as told by those who have seen him many times. However, from the first song, it was obvious that there was no such thing as a “bad” performance by Buckethead. His technical skill and inherent flow outweigh any need to know his discography or attendance to prior concerts: he’s just an inhuman guitar machine.
With the acoustics in The Caverns only elevating the charm of his sound, Buckethead performed various songs spanning across his discography, along with surprising covers of Black Sabbath and Metallica. Excitement comes during the show from fans picking out a specific riff and in the case they know it, they go wild. While in most concerts, there is a typical pause between songs, Buckethead’s instrumental nature allows for a constant flow between them, except in the exchange of instruments, which causes the listener to engage further as they notice and search for the spots of change in his set to identify what song is next.
For a faceless and otherwise emotionless appearance, Buckethead commands a level of deep-rooted sensitivity that others with words cannot come close to. With every second, Buckethead presents a story of clashing and devouring emotions translated only through his guitar singing. His playing is a reminder of music’s human history and the main tenant: that all consciousnesses resonate with musical formation on an emotional level. Music is a guttural instrument to our core and can change our mood in a moment; Buckethead closes the gap between mind and soul perfectly within a moment of playing. Whatever he felt, I felt too, delving into the cave inside myself to explore caverns I hadn’t noticed in a while.
For instance, Buckethead played one of his most popular songs, “BUCKETHEAD’S TOY STORE,” from the album GIANT ROBOT, which is an aggressive bouncing track mixed with an off-kilter beat that grooves and creates a high sense of energy and tension. He then transitioned this song into a cover of “When You Wish Upon A Star,” followed by “Pure Imagination.” These two songs are a sharp turn from the almost metallic riff prior. These deeply emotional and familiar childhood songs open a picture of the childhood Buckethead cherishes, and to the varying generations within the audience, a similar feeling can be felt. This is something Buckethead chooses to do on multiple occasions throughout the show, orchestrating the audience to his story.
Another interesting note of the show is the playing of “Bachethead” and “Point Doom” from the album Electric Sea. This album is highly beloved and, according to some fans, during the many times they have seen Buckethead, they have never heard a song from this album played live with an album as emotionally charged as “Electric Sea” being played also represents how meaningful the sold-out show at this venue meant to Buckethead. With Buckethead’s discography being so large, some songs may never be played, so every performance is a different experience. This is why his fanbase is highly dedicated.
After the show, a few days later, Buckethead released on his website a message about the show, which personally shows how impactful it was to him as much as it was to us:
Togetherness with no division. This is exactly what I felt from his audience and him that stuck out to me the most from that show and what presented itself as a show like no other. The dedication to music and love for it. It did not matter the age, the ffrom, the who, or the opinions. All that mattered was sharing something so loved and so important. Buckethead. Music has that power. To look past the perception of beasts, delve into the cave, and find the music inside.
Thank you, Buckethead.
Whether or not you’ve heard Buckethead’s music, I hope you take the opportunity to investigate something of his, especially since he has 700+ albums; it might not be hard to find something you like.
WEBSITE: www.bucketheadpikes.com
BANDCAMP: https://bucketheadpikes.bandcamp.com/
Note: Not all his works are on Spotify.
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