Just as I was wrapping my cable lock around a tree at the rear of the Jazz Fest grounds, I heard the rumbling of a mighty bus.
Turning around I saw a copper-coloured caravan emblazoned with a scenic landscape featuring a grizzled cowboy riding off into the descending—probably Texan—sunset.
Willie Nelson had arrived.
As I’d gotten there a little early, I trotted away from the festival grounds to have dinner. Nelson’s presence was attracting a very different breed of festival-goer, something that became quite obvious as I passed a fifth man sporting a Harley Davidson t-shirt, leather vest, and studded cowboy hat.
I headed back with not a moment to spare before the long-braided man himself appeared on stage, battered guitar in hand. I waded my way through a crowd that was noticeably larger than the previous night, occasionally brushing shoulders with the more devoted, cowboy-hat-loving variety, Nelson fan.
I had a fairly decent view from stage right as Nelson began plucking and strumming away, shimmying surprisingly well for an 80-year-old Texan gentleman. From the very first song, Nelson had command of the crowd; people were singing along, clapping, and whooping with glee.
With such a prolific career behind him, Nelson could essentially play anything he wanted and be assured that the crowd of devoted fans would be answering his calls and singing along without hesitation. When he busted out the bigger hits, people got up from their seats and boogied like it was a good old-fashioned hoedown.
Nelson also spent a great portion of the performance chucking his head gear into the crowd. Hats, red bandannas—he had an endless supply and I for one found it quite touching that he was so prepared to give his fans a little more material to remember him by.
He even played a few new songs—one about being unable to be superman and another about someone not finding him funny anymore—showing us all he still has a knack for humour.
I found myself unable to resist the urge to dance, at least a little bit, as Nelson plucked out some delightfully dulcet solos and his little sister, Bobbie, played the night away masterfully on the piano.
Finally Nelson busted out a song I recognized, “On The Road Again,” and the crowd went absolutely bonkers as the stage was lit with glorious white in preparation for the closing song.
“I Have Seen The Light” worked the crowd into a fervor as Nelson and the rest of his band all launched into some appropriately prolific solos for the end of the performance.
Nelson extended his thanks as he strummed the final chords, triumphantly lifting his guitar above his head in salute. He reached into his magical accoutrement bucket and tossed more bandannas into the crowd as everyone gave him the raucous standing ovation he deserved.
