Tyler Childers greeted Cleveland on Sunday the same he first greeted most of his longtime fans: alone with an acoustic guitar.
Despite the recent release of his gospel country album take my hounds to heaven, a total band album, this string of solo acoustic songs — “Rock, Salt and Nails,” “Nose to the Grindstone” and “Lady May” — was instant proof of the same old Tyler.
During the outro of “Lady May,” Childers got a little unexpected help from the Manitowoc, a self-unloading river vessel more than five times the length of the stage. The blasting horn shook the venue — and startled Childers.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” says Childers. “I think my heart almost stopped. I thought something was feeding back. Does that mean they’re coming or going?”
In a world of perfect event production and manufactured moments, Jacobs Pavilion’s riverfront setup leaves room open for spontaneity. I saw the band Cake, for example, and there was a parade of boats decked out in holiday lights to Put-In-Bay’s Christmas in July. Even the thunderous stomps from the bleachers, which were heard during “House Fire,” feels venue-specific. Throw in the colorful Terminal Tower, and this place is hard to beat.
Before the show, I sat at the Harbor Inn like I always do before a concert at Jacobs Pavilion. The bartender grew impatient as three country bros stumbled over a shot order they couldn’t quite remember. As one finally spit it out, the other frowned and scrolled his phone, desperate for tickets to the concerts just moments away.
But not everything is the same for Childers. A critical darling of the traditional country, alt-country or Americana genres (call it what you want for all I care), Childers has hit a next pantheon of stardom for an indie-leaning songwriter.
When it comes to 2023 tours, Childers was alt-country’s Taylor Swift. In the same way, Swifties fought for face-value tickets, only to pay exorbitant prices if they didn’t snag them, Childers fans struggled to snag a spot to the artist at the peak of his powers.
I last saw Childers in Detroit a week before COVID-19 hit. He was opening for Sturgill Simpson, whose drummer Miles Miller opened Sunday night’s show. He said it was his “fourth show ever” as a frontman, and it showed a bit, but the music was solid. In 2020, though, a large chunk of the crowd was already there for Childers, the opener. With a new album out and a still-growing fan base, this year’s tour was sure to be a hit show.
An old throwaway song — “Jersey Giant” — went viral, and suddenly Childers was too big for the venues he’d already booked. Ohio suffered from the fact that him and most of his band are from West Virginia and Kentuckians. Tickets sold out quickly, and leading up to the show, black market and resale tickets ranged anywhere from $250 to $500. In fact, TickPick released a study saying Childers’ show was the hottest (meaning most expensive over face value) of the 2023 concert season.
If you were willing to spend $500, I can’t imagine what else you could have gotten for your money (well, except “Feathered Indian”). Childers is a master at this point, trading between guitar and no guitar, typically to belt the newer songs. His set is full of crowd-pleasers and deep cuts — yet the way the crowd screams nearly every word, it’s typically hard to tell the difference between them.
Childers, who does vary his setlist a bit night to night, gives near-equal love to each moment in his catalog. By song four, the raucous “Whitehouse Road,” rumored to have been cut from his show but appeared in a jammed-out version tonight, Childers’ band The Food Stamps, which has stayed steady through Childers’ career rise, joined him on stage. While he’s a great solo performer — which is truly a feat of musicianship — it’s hard to deny that the Food Stamps aren’t among the main draws. From the thundering snare to the thumping bass to the prodigious lead work, I’d bet you can’t find a tighter, groovier band in country music or beyond.
Likely, the next time you see Childers in Cleveland or Columbus it’ll be at a bigger venue like Blossom Music Center or Nationwide Arena. The chance to see him one more time at the peak of his powers in a smaller venue was truly priceless.