Waynestock 14: Three Nights of Music, Memory & Mutual Care

Candela, Waynestock, Relix Theater, Knoxville, February 2026

Now in its 14th year, Waynestock unfolded over the past two weekends at Relix Theater in Happy Holler, with two nights running as planned and snowfall bumping the finale back by a week. Each year, Waynestock brings together a wide cross-section of Knoxville musicians in support of a cause that matters. This year’s beneficiary was Centro Hispano de East Tennessee.

Alan and I tag-teamed coverage, him photographing all of Thursday, Jan. 29 and Friday, Jan. 30 except for the midnight band which I was happy to stay late for. Alan was otherwise committed for the snow makeup date so I covered this past Friday solo, although he was there in spirit. I think Alan has covered Waynestock every year since it began.

The festival’s origin story bears repeating. It began in the wake of loss, when friends organized the first iteration to support longtime Knoxville News Sentinel music critic Wayne Bledsoe after the death of his son Drew. What started as a single night of fundraising and collective care was met with such an outpouring of support that organizers decided to do it again, initially just as a celebration.

That plan shifted when another loss followed: the death of Phil Pollard, a deeply loved local musician taken too soon. That year, proceeds went to Phil’s children.

In the years since, some editions of Waynestock have centered on individuals in need; others have supported organizations serving the broader community. What has remained constant is the reason it exists at all: people showing up for one another.

Civil Strife, Waynestock, Relix Theater, Knoxville, February 2026

Waynestock’s organizers—Rusty Odom, Steve Wildsmith and Wayne Bledsoe—are all longtime local journalists I admire deeply, and whose work has shaped how I think about music and community. It was an honor to talk to them about the festival’s mission and the care that goes into its curation.

They begin sketching each year’s lineup months in advance, trading lists of acts they’d like to include and shaping each night so the energy builds steadily toward the close. Some years require tough calls about timing and fit; others call for quick pivots, like this year’s snow-delayed finale, which prompted a reshuffling of acts and left a couple of bands penciled in early for next year.

Thursday opens with a songwriter-focused set that eases everyone into the room, followed by progressively louder and more expansive performances. The weekend typically ends with an all-star session honoring musicians lost in the previous year, a joyful release valve that has become a signature of the festival. This year paid tribute to Ozzy Osbourne, Brian Wilson, Sly Stone, Marianne Faithful, Todd Snider, Garth Hudson, Perry Bamonte and more.

Emcee Benny Smith of WDVX, Waynestock, Relix Theater, Knoxville, 2026

What makes all of this possible is near-universal volunteerism. Bands donate their performances. Shirts, raffles and logistics are handled by a familiar cast of contributors who return year after year. Sound crews work at deep discounts and donate equipment. If I tried to name everyone here, I’d inevitably leave someone out.

The curatorial philosophy is simple but rigorous: original music, a broad range of styles, and a balance between long-established artists and newer voices. In recent years, organizers have made a point to place younger bands alongside veterans, creating moments of discovery that ripple through both the audience and the musicians themselves. Reunions, of bands and of people, are a recurring theme.

This year’s beneficiary, Centro Hispano, was met with visible appreciation, with attendees stopping by specifically to contribute even if they couldn’t stay.

Rusty Odom, Steve Wildsmith and Wayne Bledsoe, Waynestock 2026

Before the finale set, Wayne addressed the room and shared a moving story. A few years after the first Waynestock, Wayne told the crowd, he came across a post on his son Drew’s Facebook page that he hadn’t known about at the time. It was written by a woman who described a moment from their teenage years, when Drew (Andrew) and a friend intervened to protect her from sexual assault at a party.

I want to share the rest of his speech here. It’s important. From Wayne:

“I’ve thought a lot about that story since I first read it. I wondered if I had been a teenager at that party if I’d been observant and aware enough to know what was going on and brave enough to do something about it. I’d like to think so, but you never know until you’re put in that position. And I wondered who else was at that party. Who else might have known what was happening and maybe thought, ‘This isn’t my house and it isn’t my business’ or maybe there were people who were just afraid to take any action.”

“Not long after I re-posted that story this year Renee Good was shot and killed and then Alex Pretti was shot and killed. Shot in the back while he was on the ground. And I thought, ‘It feels like those boys who had that girl in that room, or maybe the parents of boys who were raised like that, are in charge of the country right now. And they think that as long as they keep it all behind closed doors, or can convince some people that certain lives don’t matter, or make people believe it isn’t their business they can do whatever they want.’

“Let me tell you something about Andrew and Blake. Andrew was about 5’ 6” if he was wearing shoes. He wasn’t an athlete. He was a singer in a rock band. Blake, at least then, was maybe a little bigger, but was someone who anyone who met him would describe as ‘meek.’ But it was those two who kicked in the door, threw some punches, and got that girl out of that room. They knew it WAS their business and they were going to do something about it.

“Right now, that has to be us. It’s not the big talkers, people who tell you how tough they are and flex their muscles, talk about their guns or their money, and all that bullshit, who save people. Those people usually turn out to be cowards. History bears this out: It’s the normally quiet people. The ones who hold onto their values and morals and ethics and understand empathy and compassion. The ones who know it IS THEIR business to take care of people who are in danger or being brutalized who actually take action.

“Charismatic con artists can come along and convince normally moral people to ignore atrocities and accept evil as normal. Hopefully, they eventually wake up and I think some are. But it’s up to us. Look around this room. When we have to figuratively or literally kick in some doors, throw some punches, and pull people out of danger, these are some of the faces you’ll see beside you. I’m proud to say that I love you folks and I look forward to seeing you every year.”

If you couldn’t make it you to Waynestock but would like to make a contribution benefitting Centro Hispano, or you feel moved to give a little more, look up @waynestockknox on Venmo.

Keep an eye on Waynestock’s Facebook page for videos and more. Until next year.