GET FAMILIAR: Jim Lockridge of Big Heavy World

Photo courtesy of Luke Awtry Photography

Jim Lockridge is an absolutely essential part of 802 music history. Big Heavy World has been on the front lines for decades, providing space, support and training for generation after generation of Burlington artists, and he’s been showing up day after day to keep that organization running.

Lockridge has a lifetime of experience to share and he’s generous with his time — that’s such an understatement it might as well be a joke. This is a wide-ranging conversation, covering the past, present and future of the BTV music scene. Even more importantly, though, we’re talking about the cultural infrastructure that makes a music scene truly thrive.

VTHH: It seems like, in every aspect of your busy life, you're driven to serve your community in a meaningful way. What do you attribute that to? Was it parents, mentors, or just always intrinsic to who you are?

Jim Lockridge: I guess I don’t think of ‘meaning’ as something separate from life. My work is inspired mostly from a burning regret that I didn’t learn until later in life that as an individual I could and should affect things. Some people — like Andrew Smith of Good Citizen — set an example of being analytical and critical (humorously) as a natural and acceptable way to be. That wasn’t obvious to me, raised in a straight-up middle class setting, accepting all the normal expectations of society.

Over time I grew into realizing that everybody’s voice has a value, that their personal human experience means something even if it doesn’t match up to our inherited cultural framework. I ended up feeling for people who society marginalized, and realized that empowerment and self-confidence is something we should all learn when we’re young so that we have a defense against all the systemic injustices that pile on us.

In my personal history, the lid really got pried-up when I intersected with members of the local hardcore punk community. That subculture modeled an ethic of bold social critique that gave a license to speak truth to power, etc. I remember seeing the first ‘XXX’ on hardcore show posters and wondering what it meant; this segue in my life stuck in my mind. The D.I.Y. and activist ethic fed into Big Heavy World. I learned a few lessons over time, too, about not just being a critical thinker, but having a responsibility to be a critical thinker, especially when you might be the person who can prevent harm. I wrote those things down. I’ll share those even though they go on ridiculously long:

No matter what your subculture stands for, you still have to make your own decisions. Wearing the uniform doesn’t indoctrinate you; living a compassionate, conscientious life does.

It’s a responsibility to engage the world with your intellect; be prepared to witness and respond to ethical issues.

Being a musician gives you privilege as a communicator; you have to live up to the values that people think you represent.

Our culture has moved toward people feeling entitled to act as though there were no guidelines for civilization. Put some effort into learning what generations of people have thought justice should be.

Judges are elected; mediators are trained — what are you? Know your limits and steer issues toward the right resources.

It takes work to live up to being fair and having a better future and it starts with deciding that your actions will make it happen. Joining a subculture isn’t a shortcut.

Humanity is more complex than anything people will experience in a single thread on social media. If you don’t know the people, you might not know the problem.

Reflect on your own motives — are you living up to your own values, or is a sense of righteousness getting in the way? Is a need to stand out as a champion more important to you than creating actual paths to justice? A mis-match between your values and your actions could make you a hypocrite.

People will betray you or their community, on purpose or without intending to. Learn from everyone; blindly follow no-one. Even people who think they are right can make errors and harm others irresponsibly.

The path I ended up on — whether I’m good at it or not — was to realize music reflects who we are, and to invest my energy in letting music be the excuse to build community, reflect diversity, pass along a sense of self-confidence and empowerment and community to others, mostly younger people.

VTHH: Do a lot of your alumni volunteers go on to careers in the music industry?

Jim Lockridge: Some do, following their passion. Big Heavy World is a platform for many kinds of skill-building, from business and marketing to research, writing, broadcasting, and cultural preservation. Not everyone works here to follow a path to the music industry, but the music-related environment adds quality to their experience as volunteers.

VTHH: When you started Big Heavy World, were you already seeing the big picture of what it could become, or was the focus just creating a website to cover local music at first?

Jim Lockridge: When Big Heavy World launched in April of 1996 it was a website about local music — an encyclopedia where we translated local bands’ press kits onto the World Wide Web, a whole new communication medium back then. I was a graphic designer for my job and it was natural to want to explore the web as a creative outlet.

But almost as soon as it started, people were helping as volunteers and we started doing other projects, like large-scale live events, compilation CDs, and live streaming (when that tech was still being invented). We were getting Vermont music into portable MP3 players when they first appeared, with companies loading it onto players new in the box. We got Vermont music into digital distribution when that industry first developed, and were always friendly to emerging technology when it could help promote local music. We didn’t see a ‘big’ picture, for sure — we just moved toward more things, mostly because everyone had fun doing that. There came a point when we had gathered hundreds of CDs and realized that we had a responsibility for an archive. That archive has about 5,000 Vermont recordings now.

Eventually the organization became a nonprofit organization, formally. Our goal was always to support every kind of music — every genre, all skill levels — and we didn’t want to end up excluding anyone because of a profit motive. All the projects we do generally fit into a community and economic development + cultural preservation mission. We learned that was equivalent to the music offices, or ‘music development offices’ of other states and big cities. So we self-identify now as an independent volunteer-run music office.

VTHH: With most of the other big music offices, the focus is very much on the economic development aspect. I know Big Heavy World has a much broader bottom line, but I do wonder: what do you see as the most important missing pieces for the business of music here in Vermont? Do we need record labels? More artist managers? More stages? Or do you think we're built out pretty well for such a small state?

Jim Lockridge: Personally I think that the wisdom to answer this question won’t come from one person. In 2022, we’ll be working to bridge different regions and industries of Vermont’s music sector, to build a better understanding of what it needs by aggregating everyone’s experience, from across the state. The USDA is helping us with this, funding a public directory of the music sector that students at NVU Lyndon will be researching. Big Heavy World will be convening the equivalent (in other states) of a music commission, but with an inclusive, open-invitation to participate.

We hope community builders and leaders in the state’s many musical subcultures will each bring their worldview and sensitivities to that conversation, where we can package needs, wants, and opportunities to present to advocacy groups like the Vermont Creative Network and policymakers like the legislature. It’s a collaborative approach that will be validated by its broad engagement; the music community should have a more powerful voice coming from it.

Identifying structural needs and opportunities is one thing, and also complementing that energy is the universal benefit of changing economic and government relationships to music. Civic leaders at the town and state level should be recognizing music as a resource for community-building. Music is a vehicle for sustaining a sense of belonging and having confidence that our human experience is worth sharing with each other. This is fundamental to being a healthy society.

Music hasn’t been a priority — seemingly in any sense, ever — of the economic development strategies of the state. We’ve been advocating for state leaders to value music in apparent ways, like demanding use of original Vermont-made music in marketing contracts for campaigns that promote the state. Some municipalities include the arts in their comprehensive plans; the arts could be included in the strategic plans of more of Vermont’s 250+ towns and cities. Providing cultural resources to youth helps the next generation of Vermonters be more effective participants in society as they mature; our activism around this is inspired by and centered on 242 Main in Burlington, which has been a platform for reminding leaders about these values. Those are examples of steps toward music having the higher profile it deserves within the general decision-making by Vermont’s leaders.

VTHH: There is an incredible array of projects and platforms under the BHW umbrella, but I wonder: what is your vision for the next decade? Are there new initiatives you're itching to add?

Jim Lockridge: Thanks for thinking that way — everything that gets done feels like it’s just filling a need. We’re going into 2022 with a big project to bring people in the music industry closer together as a cohort to organize thoughts about need, wants, and opportunities that policymakers should know about.

The 242 Main documentary will be completed and we’ll be working to get it into festivals. We’re always seeking financial support for projects, that are all sizes.

I hope the Make Music Day festival grows even more in Vermont — it invites individuals or organizations or towns to make a day of live music happen every June 21 around the world. We brought it to Vermont and love that people come together wherever they are to make it happen, on main streets, libraries, parks, porches.

I do have hopes of bringing more and more national or international attention to Vermont and its music community. The state is always feeling its way toward an ‘identity’ and I’ve been a loud advocate for that identity to recognize how diverse and talented Vermonters are, rather than trying to land on a “Vermont sound.” We’re working really hard, and have been since 2016, to convince city leaders in Burlington to respect teens and give them their cultural center back, 242 Main. That’s balled-up with a big auditorium needing repairs, which is also a city responsibility, so the politics are large-scale for us. We proposed a Vermont Musician Laureate program to Governor Scott and have hopes for that to be made real, giving a lift to music in the eyes of Vermonters.

VTHH: Going through the Good Citizen archive on the site, I was struck by how much there was a sense, in the late 90's, that Burlington could be on the verge of becoming a hot new "scene" city like Seattle did — that it was about to become the place to be. Looking back, do you think that era's energy was kind of a high water mark for Vermont music, or does all that seem quaint and tiny compared to what's going on in BTV now?

Jim Lockridge: Yes, the 1990s were a super-special era. I remember it as being not only full of musicians with totally original sounds, but the bands would re-assemble and create one-night all-star lineups, so it seemed there was always live music that you had to see. It might be a blessing to us that Burlington wasn’t smudged by the music industry of the time; without large corporate kingmakers, everybody got to be royalty. There was a high energy then, for sure. I’m partial to everybody finding success by their own standards and for everyone else to accept those standards. Some people thrive as artists at basement shows; some need big crowds. Success can be measured a lot of ways and hopefully everybody can get a turn at it.

VTHH: One of the never-ending debates we have these days is who truly originated "Vermont Hip Hop." Dubious claims abound. As the curator and manager of the Tiny Museum Of Vermont Music History, who do you think was the earliest rap act in your archives?

Jim Lockridge: The way we do things at the museum is to write basic exhibit labels, then match a volunteer to an artifact for them to research and write a long webpage, then link a QR code to it. Eventually, a lot of people will get to explore music subjects and their good energy will add to the historic record in a deeper way, maybe finding answers for a question like this. Big Heavy’s a place where people get to find an outlet for their passion and have it make something that lasts like a good memory, new skills, or a cultural legacy we all get to share. My first Vermont exposure to Hip Hop (I’m pretty sure) was Belizbeha, but I don’t know where they found inspiration. I’d love to learn about the roots.

VTHH: You've been instrumental in quantifying the extent of Vermont's music business. What is your sense of how much damage the Coronapocalypse shutdowns have done here? Are we going to permanently lose venues and expertise in the short term?

Jim Lockridge: When the shutdowns happened, the loss of live music hurt a swath of industries, everything related to music, and it happened as a shock in a day. A positive consequence was the realization that musicians and these industries are all part of our social and economic fabric, which may not have been a conscious thought before this happened. It sparked the Vermont Arts Council and its allies to ensure that recovery funding for businesses was available to individual artists, too — a milestone for the way the government treated musicians within the economy. Big Heavy World has always spoken up to ask firmly for fairness in how different art forms are treated; the COVID-19 and Black Lives Matter experience are contributing to a lot more people realizing that equity in society is something we still have to work for. It’s been a license to have those conversations about how any system can be improved to be more just and inclusive.

Another outcome of the pandemic lockdowns has been everyone's capacity to connect remotely. People got literate in those platforms and now they’re effective for sharing between groups. We’ve used them for showcases, social, organizational and educational meetings. They give a community the power to connect across a wide geographic area without feeling odd about the use of technology to do that. That’s a nice lift to strengthening the relationships that make a community more effective at improving itself or changemaking. We also merged Zoom and radio broadcasting so nightclub DJs could sustain their dance communities, and teamed with Vermont Public Radio to host a high school prom and afterparty broadcast and stream, showing that in a time of crisis and challenges Vermonters can find new paths for healing what’s broken, with music.

I don’t think Vermonters will ever be held down by natural or man-made crises. I think in the end we value both independence and the commonwealth too much — we’re so natively innovative and grounded as a people, we’d win any fight like this pandemic, bringing individual and shared strengths together. Whatever gets pegged-down by COVID-19 will come back stronger in some way, especially if we learn all the lessons it gave us.