Concert Review: Billy Strings Turns Enmarket Arena Into a Bluegrass Revival

April 14, 2025

Last night, I finally got it.

I’d seen Billy Strings before. Maybe I was distracted. Maybe I was just a tourist in the jamgrass galaxy. But April 11 at Enmarket Arena changed that. I stayed for the entire set this time—and now I understand. Billy Strings isn’t just a musician. He’s a unicorn.

Let’s break this down: 32 years old, playing bluegrass, and packing arenas with 20- and 30-somethings like it’s the second coming of Jerry Garcia—only this time with banjos and fiddle solos.

Jazz and opera would kill for this kind of turnout. And the kicker? The man still looks like a school kid. It’s disarming. Like if Huck Finn picked up a Martin and shredded it into another dimension.

At one time walked out alone, lit by a single spotlight, and picked his way through “Georgia Buck” on clawhammer banjo like he was summoning ghosts from the soil. No grand entrance.

Just Billy and 9,000 people leaning in like it was church.

Billy Strings Turns Enmarket Arena Into a Bluegrass Revival

And from there, the night unfolded like a fever dream of Appalachian roots and cosmic detours. Strings and his band thread the needle between hard-driving traditional bluegrass and swirling, psychedelic improvisation. One moment you’re tapping your foot to a three-part harmony straight from the holler, the next you’re orbiting Saturn in a mandolin-fueled jam.

Somewhere between "Hellbender" and "Enough to Leave" I stopped trying to follow the setlist and just let go. His voice cracked open lines like “To ease my heart and pain” and “What am I supposed to do?” and made them feel like they’d been passed down through generations.

And credit where it’s due: Enmarket Arena sounded incredible. Crystal clear, even when the band pushed into high-octane terrain. Whoever dialed in the mix deserves a beer and a high-five.

Anyway, you didn’t just see Billy Strings. You came away to be converted.

I finally cracked the code. Before, but maybe I was half-checked out, sneaking glances at my phone or slipping out early. My mistake. This time, I stayed glued to the moment. The man’s a unicorn, a once-in-a-generation force who turned a hockey rink into a sweat-soaked bluegrass cathedral.

Billy Strings Turns Enmarket Arena Into a Bluegrass Revival