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A sea of people to see Willie Nelson at Bayfront. Photo by David K.

Bayfront Festival Park, just yards from the iconic lift bridge, is surrounded by tourism, an aquarium, a hockey arena and in view behind the stage, a high-end resort hotel. 

But Willie Nelson wasn’t staying there. His tour bus sat directly behind the stage, and I’d guess he smoked a little weed inside before he came out into the cold. 

The temperature was mid 40s, cool breeze, but the warm crowd sat patiently through two hours of warm up acts before Mr. Nelson graced the stage. 

The festival area was encircled with carnival food which added to the fun vibe, and smart northern folk were dressed in layers, and all smiles. “Minnesota Nice” was on full display. 

Unfortunately, as a musician, I’m going to have technical and musical opinions. The warm up acts were hobbled by bad sound. It almost seemed like the plan, to give them less and make it sound best when Willie appeared, though the improvement took until the 2nd song of Willie’s set to find it’s fullness. 

The poor duo that started sounded like a tin can. Zero bottom end was heard, and if they’d have been blessed with a quality mix, it might have overshadowed the plainess of their presentation. Thousands of people, and a twosome, girl sings, plays fiddle, well enough but not amazing, and a mostly rhythm guitarist. He displayed one song of more guitar solo prowess. Excellent female voice, but an hour of underwhelming. Still, no biggie. Pleasurable enough. 

The next act female voices were astronomically better. Very good voices. BUT, again the mix was horrible. Shrill. No drums, bass, just girl singers and a guitarist for another hour. The songs they chose were fine, very good, if originals were mixed in there was not much introduction of themselves, or their music before they left. 

Then the spotlight dudes climbed the scaffold, the band began to set up, the lighting changed a little bit and musicians appeared. Willie strolled out, standing, then walked to his chair where he sat. 
“How Y’all Doin’,” he asked, and the crowd went wild. As they went into Willie’s legendary song, “Whiskey River,” the sound man noticeably mixed away. No improvement. Tin. Mid range. The song ended and the loving crowd erupted. 

The second song, a background singer sang a bit as Willie played a fabulous guitar solo. BOOM! You could 100% clearly hear the singer’s voice. Suddenly the bass guitar arrived, full and solid, and the snap of the drummer, playing only a snare drum, mind you, was present. No drum kit. Only Ed Sheeran travels with less equipment. 

Still, the next song that Willie sang, his voice was not loud enough. Half what the background guy’s volume was. Within the next few songs Willie’s voice and guitar improved and were out front where they should have been from the start. 

“Good Hearted Woman,” “Mama Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys,” to which Willie would yell out, “Mama!” And the crowd would sing the rest. So charming. 

“Help Me Make It Through The Night.” Willie of course, swam around his original melodies beautifully in his own way, and as well, solo guitar work floated around the beat, his iconic style, still beautiful unpredictable jazz meets country - at the age of 91. 

“You Were Always On My Mind” was touching. Willie is still comfortable in his own shoes, with his own voice and his own guitar work, and we all loved it. He didn’t say much, no stories, little banter, but that left more room to squeeze hits into his barely one hour set. 

The stripped down band rocked “Move It On Over” and Willie was spot on, less floating around the ballad beats and melodies. The crowd was noticeably boomer or older, but the charm of families, the sharing of the legend, the  amount of kids with dad’s singing along to every word was almost as beautiful to me as the blessing of seeing Willie Nelson before one day we no longer can. 

My favorite song was his statement for the night, “Still Not Dead.” He sang out with his most enthusiastic breaths, “And I woke up still not dead again today…” 

I’ve been a singer songwriter since I was 11 years old. As a teen I watched legends like Morrison, Joplin, Hendrix die too early. I’d pray for music dreams and chances for the world to hear my songs. But I didn’t want to not have youth, to not play ball, to go too early wrapped up in the whirlwind of fame, sex, drugs, rock & roll. 

And even then, Willie the pony-tailed in the ’70s legend was the inspiration of an aged man still rockin’. I told myself, I prayed to God – “If Willie can still be rockin’ well at that age, I’ll never stop tryin’, sing until I fall off a stage. Give me longevity, Lord, like Willie, and maybe I’ll get myself a hit.” 

The other night, Willie delivered and with love. You can hear in his voice that he still feels the music and he emoted it to us. When he got up, stood to walk off stage, he kissed his hands and raised both arms to the sky, blowing the Northland kisses of thank you. 

He threw his hat into the crowd, and they gave him a second hat and he tossed that one, as well, and with strength. Then he forcefully threw his guitar picks into the VIP section. 

He stood beside a woman who had greeted him, maybe his wife, and waved again before turning and walking back to his tour bus. 

Thank you, Willie Nelson, for your inspiration, for your creativity, for the songs that will never leave us and for waking up still not dead again today!”