Parish Auditorium – Miami University (Hamilton Campus)
Hamilton, OH – February 22, 2020

“We’re a lousy party band,” admitted singer Karin Bergquist, about half-way through Over the Rhine’s concert at the Parish Auditorium at Miami University in Hamilton Ohio. She was telling the audience of the faithful that filled the college hall that she and her husband and partner in crime, Linford Detweiler, were just back from the Cayamo Cruise of the Caribbean with fellow musicians like Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy, Mavis Staples, Rodney Crowell and Buddy Miller, which was likely more of a party than she was letting on.

 

But she was aptly describing the tone of their ballad-heavy set list on this particular evening, with the duo supported only by pedal steel player Eric Heywood, adding a sweet, but often sad tone to their rich repertoire, which went all the way back to their 1996 album, Good Dog, Bad Dog. That blast from the past was accompanied by stories of the band’s origin, in a third-floor apartment just a few miles south in the Cincinnati neighborhood that gave the band its name.

If there is a somber tone to significant swaths of Over the Rhine’s music—spread over the course of their 31-year career—it’s because Detweiler and Bergquist tend to write songs that speak to the deeper human experiences that bind us all together. Thus, the word “broken” played a notable role in both the opening and closing numbers of their 17-song set, a reflection of the experience of many who are attracted to the intimate portraits that find their way into this music.

 

Detweiler sat down at the piano at the beginning of the evening, playing the gentle opening of “Broken Angels,” Bergquist singing and fingerpicking her acoustic guitar center stage. The sound was surprisingly full even with such simple instrumentation, Heywood adding soaring and crying tones in his solo, giving the song a twinge of unique to the pedal steel. It was obvious from the outset that the audience had come intent on listening to the rich textures of the band’s music, as quick applause subsided as soon as Detweiler played a piano segue into “Drunkard’s Prayer,” where he slipped a bit of honky tonk spirit into the proceedings. The pristine beauty of Bergquist’s voice was on full display during a brief acapella passage.

 

Bergquist then kicked off “Los Lunas” from their latest album, Love & Revelation with the opening line, “I cried all the way from Los Lunas to Sante Fe,” implying the appropriate level of sadness, echoed in the rich, nuanced playing of Heywood. The piano was more pronounced on “Born,” a fan favorite that goes back to 2005, exhibiting some of Detweiler’s classical leaning technique.

For “Sacred Ground,” Detweiler took the acoustic guitar from his wife, as the two sang in harmony of their reverence and appreciation for the land. At this point, Bergquist waxed philosophical, sharing with her fans, “I’m grateful for music; it’s always a good night when you get to sing some songs.” She offered up the next one, “(I Don’t Want to) Let You Down,” for friends and family who were going through some hard times. She joked that when we’re young and romantic we say things like “let’s grow old together,” acknowledging “that’s all well and good until it starts happening,” drawing knowing laughter from a room where gray hair was by far the norm.

 

Staying with songs from the recent album, Detweiler told the story of the “Rocking Chair,” before playing the up tempo, light rocker, with Heywood revealing some fun chops on a standard electric guitar for the solo. “All Of It Was Music” followed, Bergquist and Detweiler harmonizing over the folky melody of a song that describes the long collaboration of their marriage and career. “Meet Me at the Edge of the World” came with some reflections about life on their farm, and the natural world which constantly stuns them with its organic beauty.

 

In the process, Detweiler described the festival they host every year on their Nowhere Farm farm over Memorial Day weekend, which they describe as an “extended family reunion.” They invited everyone to come out for the music and festivities this year, featuring Joe Henry, who’s produced several of their albums and is a fine artist in his own right, and singer/songwriters Patty Griffin and Alison Moorer, the fun band Birds of Chicago, and of course concerts by them with their Band of Sweethearts.

 

By way of introduction for the evening’s one cover, Bergquist said that as part of their cruise they were asked to do a song for a Laurel Canyon tribute – describing the music that came from that unique L.A. geography in the early to mid-70’s. Their choice was Graham Nash’s “Just a Song Before I Go,” which had been a hit for him with David Crosby and Stephen Stills. This brought Heywood’s electric guitar out for one more spin, a delightful moment of déjà vu.

 

As a duo, Over the Rhine dipped all the way back to the days when they could only dream of paradise, in “Etcetera Whatever,” then did two from their 2007 release, The Trumpet Child, “Nothing Is Innocent” and “Trouble.” Detweiler’s piano gave the first a bit of a cabaret feel; the second was inclined toward a bossa nova tempo. “When I Go” followed, a quiet, bluesy ballad.

 

At this point Bergquist noticed a couple dancing up in an alcove under an exit sign to the side of the auditorium up near the back, commenting that it was a nice reminder that romance still exists in the world. “I’m all verklempt,” she admitted, to which Detweiler commented, “well, let’s see what they’ve got,” as he started playing the funky guitar chords to “Baby If This Is Nowhere,” which brought Heywood back into the mix for some bluesy soloing.

 

As things seemed to be wrapping up, Bergquist sang one of many of their songs that floats over the crowd like a benediction and a blessing, “May God Love You (Like You’ve Never Been Loved).” Detweiler then introduced the last song of their set proper, as an “unofficial anthem” of their tribe of family, friends, and fans, “All My Favorite People (Are Broken).” It’s a song that is bittersweet in its sentiment that we may all come as we are, “part saint and part sinners,” but we can “lean on each other,” because we’re “all still beginners, we’re all late-bloomers when it comes to love.” My, my, friends, if that doesn’t leave you verklempt, you may want to check your pulse to see if you’re still alive.

 

The trio took their bows to a standing ovation, and left the stage, only to return for a couple more, since, as Detweiler said, “it appears you have no place to go.” He introduced the folk ballad, “Against the Grain,” as one Bergquist had written in his father’s memory after he had died, the plaintive moan of Heywood’s pedal steel and Linford’s chugging guitar chords imitating a distant passing train.

 

To introduce “If A Song Could Be President,” Bergquist repeated a practiced line, “It was such a nice evening until someone brought up politics,” before promising they would keep the focus “on music.” The playful song imagined some of the best Americana songwriters in public office: Steve Earle anchoring the news, John Prine leading the FBI, Tom Waits as Secretary of State, Neil Young a senator. They then closed out the night, with one more quiet ballad, “Wait,” about settling in the confines of another’s care and companionship, Bergquist offering her warm, sensuous voice as a comforting blanket, matched by Heywood’s sliding steel.

 

Okay, so it was not a party, it was something altogether more significant and connecting, the coming together of a tribe, the conveying of blessing and care between old friends. Which is not to say that Over the Rhine, when backed by their rhythm section in the Band of Sweethearts, cannot lift up what one regular attender of their festival calls a “sacred ruckus.” But on this cold, February night, the warmth and light of honest songs, satisfying stories, and music that came from a deeper place was just right.

By Brian Quincy Newcomb

Order Love & Revelation HERE