I’ve always found Memphis to be a hospitable city. A welcoming place.

But when I first arrived at this year’s Goner Fest – a long-running, multi-day independent music festival hosted by Memphis’ Goner Records – I was greeted by the intentionally inhospitable no-wave sounds of Genre is Death. Jagged and brash, the New York duo felt more like a band you’d find performing in a concrete basement than an outdoor festival. Which is perfect. Because, although their set seemed designed to push listeners away, it also served as a sneering invitation to the meticulously-curated and unpredictable lineup ahead. And it reinforced a theme that permeates Goner – many things can be, and often are, true at once.

Chicago’s Horsegirl brought that point to life when they took the stage later that evening. If Genre is Death represents… well, the death of genre, then Horsegirl represents what happens when you openly embrace and subtly reimagine your genre influences. They create nuanced art pop that’s aligned with Dolly Mixture and Cate Le Bon (their producer for Phonetics On and On), while also stretching the sound and putting their own touch on it. They unveiled several new songs throughout their Goner set, previewing their continued evolution and knack for punctuating melodic moments with well-timed floor tom pops and Bass VI attacks. Their closer, “Switch Over,” spurred some hopping and dancing from the crowd and injected a touch of joy into the air. It was a major detour from what the crowd faced just an hour before. Which, in a way, is the point. When you come to Goner Fest, you’ll be welcomed with open arms — arms that’ll subsequently shove you into the outer edges of music and culture. As Friday performer and pop mastermind Frank McLallen put it during a brief conversation at his merch table, “Goner is the magnetic center of the outsider rock and roll world in Memphis.”

“Goner is the magnetic center of the outsider rock and roll world in Memphis.”

— Frank McLallen

I’m not going to pretend I’m an expert in all things Goner or Memphis. But I’ve attended the fest a few times, booked several Memphis bands, and written about and bought a handful of Goner releases over the years. Although my knowledge is rudimentary, my appreciation is genuine. And that’s what my trip was all about this year — getting to the root of what attracts me to all things Goner and working to understand what makes their fest so distinct (particularly for the South).

Tracy Wilson from Outer World (and formerly of the legendary Dahlia Seed) helped guide me a bit. After braving the September heat with an energized and synthy set on Friday, she sat down by the green room for a reflective chat. She’s been coming to the fest for 15 years – obvious from the amount of hugs and handshakes she received throughout the day. For Wilson, Goner’s appeal is rooted in its communal spirit, as well as the fest’s willingness to welcome in and promote new sounds. “Goner has really become a little bit more eclectic than it was in years past,” said Wilson while Louisville’s Parking exploded in the background. “I think it pays tribute to the past, but it's also forward looking… It is so important to remind people that there is a rich, blooming culture still happening with new music.”

“It is so important to remind people that there is a rich, blooming culture still happening with new music.”

— Tracy Wilson

Friday’s lineup definitely illustrated that blooming culture. The bill jumped from Mod Lang’s expertly crafted power pop to The Sheaves’ post-punk pessimism to Jeffrey Joe Jensen’s wonderfully weird and autobiographical patio rock (think Jonathan Richman with stranger stories). Throughout the day, the crowd kept an open mind, trusting Goner owners Zac Ives and Eric Friedl’s curatorial instincts. Instincts that, as Wilson noted, continuously expand and now stretch beyond punk and garage.

Although the lineups feature more than punk nowadays, a punk ethos still informs the fest, which Tim Prudhomme referenced during a brief conversation before he MCed Friday’s festivities (alongside Sonic Youth’s Steve Shelley). It’s an untethered yet community-minded ethos. A clear rejection of the copy-and-paste festival lineups you’ll find in bigger cities. Prudhomme — of the Memphis band FAKE and much more — shared that he spoke with an artist earlier in the day who told him: “We don't have this in New York.” Exactly. They don’t.

Even if a motivated group of promoters got together and produced a similar lineup elsewhere, it would be impossible to replicate Memphis’ spirit and hospitality. Or, as Prudhomme put it, “True southern hospitality, not the unreal, fake hospitality.” He has a theory about Memphis’ welcoming spirit, too, informed by a very specific piece of Memphis’ musical past: Graceland, Elvis’ 17,000+ square-foot estate. People come from all over the world to visit it, noted Prudhomme, and Memphis residents encounter these tourists regularly. Over time, those interactions have cultivated a friendly and helpful spirit in the city — a safe landing of sorts. I think he’s onto something. In my experience, you’re likely to encounter that spirit in a bar or a restaurant or a hotel check-in counter at midnight. Or at a local music festival loaded with obsessive record collectors and folks looking for something new and different.

“True southern hospitality, not the unreal, fake hospitality.”

— Tim Prudhomme

But, as music fans and amateur historians know, Graceland is only one of several landmarks tied to the city’s significant musical past. From Sun to Stax to Ardent, the stories and figures and songs are unmatched and have been documented by much more capable writers than myself (go grab a book or two at Burke’s Book Store near Goner’s shop). The Goner crew pays respects to the city’s musical past — the fest’s epic program guide is a good example — while also finding their own way of honoring other music legends who informed their punk point-of-view. This year, those longstanding legends included Death and Toody Cole and Her Band. Sadly, I missed Death because I had to leave early on Saturday, but I want to share a few thoughts about Toody’s performance.

When Toody and Her Band – Kelly Halliburton and Christopher March – took the stage at 10:30 p.m. on Friday, a full moon was casting a serious glow over the crowd (offering a perfectly-timed nod to her former band Dead Moon). She later pointed out the cosmic coincidence, which prompted a big cheer from everyone. After a brief mic check and a swig from a tall boy, she signaled to her band that it was time. She didn’t even wait for the MCs (sorry, Tim and Steve). For the next hour, Toody was possessed in the best way possible — she was floating. Her performance was totally transcendent and redefined what it means to be fully present on stage, which, in turn, prompted the audience to also be locked-in, undistracted. At 77, her howl and her tenderness still shine, and her bass playing is a precise melding of punk and soul. I’ve never seen anything like it. For those who stayed until the end, it was a gift.

Many people around me were nearly in tears singing along to the songs. During “It’s OK”, Toody delivered Fred Cole’s chorus line and the crowd delivered Toody’s response (per the recording). It was magic. If you were carrying some baggage that night, well, for a couple minutes, it might’ve disappeared in the light of that looming moon. As things were winding down, Toody noted her long-standing connection to Goner, going all the way back to the beginning of the Fest 20+ years ago. For her, it read like a full circle moment. For the Goner team, it must’ve felt like a triumph.

The next day, I grabbed an excellent muffuletta from Kwik Chek, visited the riverfront, popped by Sun and Stax, and watched one last set from the doomy garage rockers Fruited Planes. As I departed the fest, I reflected on something McLallen told me the day before: “We know the history of Memphis, and it being on the Mississippi River, at the corner of Mississippi, Tennessee, and Arkansas. It's a southern hub… it's still this magnet for outsiders. A lot of people that make up the scene of Memphis are from those states I mentioned. They're from rural places.” He closed by saying that these people come to Memphis searching for something… something their hometowns couldn’t offer them.

And maybe that’s why I feel such a real connection to the Goner world. As a wannabe punk and skate rat who grew up in Montgomery, Alabama, I too was desperate to find weird and unconventional music, much like the folks McLallen referenced. My small group of friends and I had to search for it and when we found it, we discovered a community where we could be ourselves. That’s what Goner Records and Goner Fest have achieved on a grander scale. With Memphis’ music history and hospitable spirit serving as a strong foundation, the Goner crew has produced their own unique “Welcome” sign for outsiders near and far. Their invitation? Come to a place that changed music forever, discover something strange that might turn your mind inside-out, then go fearlessly create. And, maybe, host your own weird southern music festival one day.

Goner Fest: A Magnet for Outsiders

Sham Strikes A Chord