The first time I saw Dan Bern, he opened up for Ani Difranco at the Northrop Memorial Auditorium at the University of Minnesota. At that time, he was relatively unknown and rather shy, especially opening for a woman who had a reputation for attracting angst-ridden young lesbians. He charmed the crowd with his genuine song writing and received a warm applause.
The second time I saw Dan Bern, he was playing in a much smaller venue. Once again he was playing acoustic, this time at Gabe’s Oasis, at the University of Iowa in Iowa City. He played an intimate but powerful show to a packed house of beer drinkers and college folk. By then he was beginning to have a following, and after the show he took the time to shake everyone’s hand and take pictures with fans.
This time I saw Dan Bern at the Iron Horse Music Hall in Northampton. It had been almost three years since I had seen him live, and his confidence and fan base had significantly increased. The performance on Friday night was the best I’ve seen so far. Backed by a live band with a drummer, bassist, pianist and a guitar and banjo player, he played a cornucopia of folk that included songs from his latest album, New American Language, as well as old favorites.
For many Iron Horse shows, the floor is empty so as to make room for concertgoers. However, on Friday, the tables and chairs were still down, making it more of a dinner show. The crowd was older than the other Dan Bern shows that I’d been to, but lively nonetheless. When Bern arrived on stage, he opened with “One Thing Real” from his 1998 release, Smartie Mine. The addition of the band enhanced the already fantastic music and made his songs come alive. It made such a difference from his earlier performances.
In between playing “Talking Alien Abduction Blues,” from 1997’s Dog Van Boy and “Chelsea Hotel,” from Smartie Mine, Bern interacted with the crowd by telling stories about being on the road. He then promoted New American Language by playing some of its new tracks including, “God Said No,” “New American Language” and “Sweetness.” “Thanksgiving Day Parade” was the last song of the first set before the encore. The crowd was definitely getting into his new stuff, but it was when Bern played “Marilyn Monroe,” from his self-titled 1993 release that everyone in the house began to sing along. They also laughed when he surprised the room by playing a “Little Ditty about Jewish Guys” that seemed to be entirely improv.
The two highlights of the show came at the end. During the rowdy version of “Tiger Woods,” from his 1998 release, Fifty Eggs, he stopped to tell a small anecdote about a woman he had met earlier in the evening who asked him if he remembered sleeping with her. She had said she was kidding, but Bern felt the meeting was amusing enough to warrant her the description of having “one big pair of big balls.”
Then, at the climax of the evening, Bern stood away from the mic and asked the crowd to sing along the chorus of “Albuquerque Lullaby” in different accents, depending on whether they were seated in the balcony or on the floor. He made the audience sing in a British accent and then in the accent of their mothers, once again making direct contact with his adoring fans.
The reason Dan Bern is such an awesome performer is not only because of his tremendous musical talent, but because of his relationship with his fans. During the show he made the crowd laugh with little stories or comments, as well as playing his own unique brand of humorous folk. After the show, instead of retiring to his bus or disappearing behind the stage, he stood at the front of the venue to sign autographs, sell CDs, take pictures and greet people. Going to a Dan Bern show is one of the few shows out there that an audience member is treated as if they are part of the performance and the success of the artist. Bern has this amazing talent for writing songs that are real and for connecting to his listeners. I can’t wait to see him again. Every one of his shows just gets better.
