Dominic Lalli (saxophonist) and Jeremy Salken (drummer) make up the technofunk duo, Big Gigantic
As I sat in my common room, alone at 2 AM on a Saturday night, watching the 2020 Bonnaroo live stream (a virtual version of the popular Tennessee festival) and trying to mimic the ambiance of a concert with my roommates’ projector complemented by our fairy lights in strobe mode, I was only further reminded of the strangeness of watching a virtual concert. I was no fool, I knew there was no way to replicate a concert by watching a YouTube live stream, no matter how large the screen. Concerts are about the crowd you’re with, the friends you make, and the ability to be present with an artist whom you love. The headliners of the evening, Big Gigantic, are known for their larger-than-life beat drops and unique combination of jazz and EDM elements. The set, which consisted of the jazzy, electropop duo playing for an hour in front of a green screen, was disingenuous and lackluster, delivering a disappointing experience to both fans and Bonnaroo diehards alike.
The failure of Big Gigantic’s set began with the duo’s lack of engagement with the music. Sure, they bopped their heads to their music and Dominic Lalli, on saxophone, did a few little jigs with his feet, but the two of them were so stationary that I felt awkward trying to dance to their music, which on its own is perfectly danceable. Had the duo been playing jazz or folk, I could have excused their stagnation, but as funky, electropop musicians, their performance requires at least a shimmy. Even Jeremy Salken, though restricted by his drum set, could have delivered a little head roll. The duo’s stale performance brought down my energy level and was ill-fitting when paired with their upbeat music.
The visual elements of Big Gigantic’s performance also screamed “we are in a studio and playing this music for an invisible audience.” Various brightly colored kaleidoscopic and neon backgrounds rotated throughout the set and a Vaseline-coated glow arose from behind the two men as they played their instruments, building a wall between the real and the fabricated. Their attempt to replicate a stage experience was so frustratingly different from watching a band playing amongst visual effects on a stage, on screens around them. If the duo had embraced the intimate setting and tailored their performance to it, their set would have worked. Avid music fans know that study sessions and NPR’s Tiny Desk Concerts can highlight artists’ skills through a cozy atmosphere. In Big Gigantic’s set, however, the intense graphics and the green screen only served as a reminder to me that I was in a dorm room, watching a live stream.
Just when I thought “maybe I can envision myself at a concert if I just close my eyes,” Lalli would speak into his poor-quality microphone and draw attention to the fact that the entire experience was virtual. His voice was muffled and radio-like, nothing like the echoing speech of a performer at a stadium. What made it notably worse was when he tried to get a call and response going with his non-existent audience, gesturing to the camera every time viewers were supposed to echo him. If the duo had embraced their virtual space and adapted a set to suit the circumstances, there would be no awkward moments of open-ended calls and responses. CloZee, another EDM artist who had preceded the duo with her set, did a fantastic job tailoring her performance to the virtual sphere. Omitting herself from the screen, CloZee featured psychedelic visuals that changed color and speed based on the music she was performing. By embracing her inability to replicate a stage experience, she allowed attendees to immerse themselves in the artistic vision of her music. The most of CloZee that appeared was her shadow during parts of the set, allowing the focus to be on her music. Had Big Gigantic given their audience to have a chance to be immersed in the music, I may have imagined myself at a concert, with the booming bass and tantalizing treble of their songs. But as soon as Lalli decided to interject, the guise that Bonnaroo was intending to achieve completely crumbled.
While it is uplifting to see artists and music festivals trying to create free virtual concerts during a pandemic, the execution of these events is too often fabricated and condescending. People attend concerts for more than flashy lights and acknowledgment from musicians, we go so that we can hear our favorite artists deliver their creations directly to us. We don’t need all the bells and whistles, just two musicians, instruments in hand, pouring their soulful sounds into our open ears.