Friday afternoon, I came back from a meeting and found a message from Kate on my voice mail. "John Hiatt is playing a solo show in Troy tonight. Do we want to get tickets?" (Well, OK, she didn't actually speak the hyperlink...)

The answer was obviously yes, so a few hours later, we were at the Troy Music Hall, which, oddly, sits atop a savings bank in downtown Troy. It's apparently famous for having great acoustics (not that I had heard of it, other than the occasional tv spot), and they get a decent variety of acts there. It's not a large venue-- the posted seating capacity is 1,253-- but it's a nice spot for a small show.

Hiatt has a new album out (Beneath This Gruff Exterior) with The Goners (one of many bands he's used over the years), but he's playing a handful of solo acoustic shows before setting off on tour with the band. Hence, the Troy Music Hall-- John Hiatt's been in the music business for something close to thirty years, but he's not a name that will fill a stadium. As a solo act in an intimate setting, though, he's a good draw-- the hall was pretty well full.

The opening act was an Earnest Young Folksinger from Australia, also doing an acoustic set, but accompanied, weirdly enough, by his father on harmonica (bet that's a wild tour bus...). His songs were a competent if uninspired attempt to do some sort of Bob Dylan/ David Gray/ Ryan Adams thing, and were basically inoffensive. He had a thing for dramatic... pauses in the middle of his lyrics that bugged Kate, but other than that, he was a fine opening act.

At shows featuring opening acts, it's always interesting to note the contrast between the headliner and the Very Special Guest, and I don't think I've seen a stronger contrast at any of the shows I've been to. Not in terms of competence (though Hiatt is a much more accomplished guitarist, and it was impressive to hear what a range of sound he could get with just an acoustic guitar and a pickup arrangement to amplify stomps on the floor), but in attitude. The Earnest Young Australian was clearly very nervous-- he barely managed to introduce his songs, and laughed nervously at his own attempts at stage patter. You got the feeling that, if he were to flub a line, his head might explode.

John Hiatt, on the other hand, was all relaxed confidence. He admitted that he was "pretty much winging it" for the solo acoustic shows, and seemed utterly unfazed by anything that happened. He took a couple of requests from the audience, bantered cheerfully with people who shouted things up to the stage, and flubbed the lyrics to a couple of songs-- most notably, forgetting the opening to "Georgia Rae," a song written about his daughter, which he decided to play in honor of her fifteenth birthday. Happily, somebody in the audience knew the opening, and got him started, whereupon he proceeded to modify the lyrics on the fly to account for the fact that she's no longer an infant. This is what comes of thirty years in the business (and with the number of songs he's written, he's allowed to forget a few lyrics here and there...). He played and talked for close to two hours, doing twenty-odd songs (making this one of the best shows I've ever been to, on a "cost per song" basis), and was completely at ease for the whole thing.