What Could Be Next for ‘The Greyhound’?

Another epic iteration of Big Ears Festival is in the books and I need, like, 24 hours to process my feelings. So I’ll be back tomorrow with a recap. In the meantime: a postcard from inside the festival’s most anticipated venue, “The Greyhound,” and an open-ended question about what its future could be.

The last time I was inside the Greyhound station at 100 Magnolia Ave. was about 15 years ago, bussing up to visit friends in NYC. I don’t recall anything particularly off about it, aside from the horror-movie lighting and a low-grade sense of menace.

But during Big Ears Festival, I caught an earful of dystopian Greyhound anecdotes: an acid-trip bus ride home on Christmas Eve, a marriage proposal from a stranger (she had to sit next to him for four more hours), a man trying to sell a live chicken out of a duffel bag, Alan and his brother realizing “wait, WE are the weird ones,” and this joke:

– What’s the difference between the Knoxville Greyhound terminal and a lobster with boobs? 

– One’s a crusty bus station, and the other is a busty crustacean.

Heyyyy. 

For the first time since closing in 2022, the stylish mid-mod building saw some fresh life when it reemerged as a Big Ears Festival venue. Rechristened “The Greyhound,” it hosted a steady stream of artists across four days. 

Gone were the sticky metal benches and postered route maps, though you could still make out the outlines of a few signs. A highlight of the room, then and now, is the striking cobalt blue tilework. Knox News has some neat archival photos of the space here. 

Think of “The Greyhound” as a shell. Big Ears performances took place in the round, with a self-contained stage set up in the center. There’s no electricity, so it ran off a large, quiet generator outside. No running water, either, though a restroom trailer sat out back. 

The bare walls became projector screens for bright colors and trippy forms. The part of the building with the curved front wall was sectioned off as a green room for artists. The sound was surprisingly good, especially once the room filled with bodies to absorb it. 

The one complaint I heard: with no AC and a couple warm evenings, it got a bit stuffy at times. On Thursday night, people took turns holding the doors open until someone disappeared into a back room and reemerged with the perfect doorstop: an ancient Dell computer tower. I was standing there with a friend and we both lost it.

“The Greyhound” is one of those mythical Knoxville spaces that, for whatever reason, has really captured the public imagination. Big Ears could’ve put someone crinkling a bag of chips into a microphone for 45 minutes on stage and people still would’ve come in to see it. But of course, the venue was programmed to the nines.

I caught one of six transportive sets by SML, a jazz-meets-electronica quintet out of L.A., as well as SUSS Presents Americana Apocalypse. And then there was Lou Reed Drones, guitars from Reed’s collection arranged against amplifiers to create a feedback drone that made you feel like you were being pressure-washed by sound.

I appreciated the latter’s aggressive sensory experience for approximately 13 minutes. A security guard confided in me that, after nearly six hours of it, he felt like walking into traffic. Reed’s guitar tech, Stewart Hurwood, had allegedly happily been on stage all afternoon without stopping for water, food or a restroom break. 

That’s Big Ears for you. To each their own.

What could be next for ‘The Greyhound’? 

Built in 1959 and purchased in 2022 by Dewhirst Properties for $1.45 million, it’s mostly been sitting and it’s going to need some big work. But for an inspired tenant (maybe you’re that someone, reading this right now!), the building has a lot going for it. 

It sits at the intersection of two corridors, Central and Magnolia, that couldn’t be hotter; last month we reported on a seven-story mixed-use development planned for the corner of Central and Depot, just caddy-corner. And there’s more here than meets the eye, including a full basement and a bit of an upper floor. The natural light is more than I remembered. There are fun little nooks and crannies. Plus the gorgeous tile and of course the LORE. 

When I ran into Dewhirst’s Mark Heinz outside a Big Ears show on Saturday, he expressed excitement for the building’s future. He said having it as a festival venue—activating the space, getting eyes on it, seeing what it feels like inside—felt like a great first step. 

All around the country, former Greyhound stations have found useful next chapters. One of my favorite restaurants is The Grey in Savannah, a restored 1938 terminal where chef Mashama Bailey has reimagined its segregated past. Other examples abound, with stations reborn as restaurants, museums and cultural spaces.

Thoughts?

Here are more photos for inspiration.