"This is Jayhawks 101," Gary Louris said leading into his band's essential song, "I'd Run Away."
It would be an easy enough course if it were real - at least based on the standard implication of that number pinned on the end - but one that know-it-all college-aged Bluebird regulars like myself would probably have flunked.
For one easygoing Wednesday night at The Bluebird, personal pitchers of Bud replaced Dirty Birds, straight-cut blue jeans overtook skinny jeans, and 40ish-year old attendees outnumbered 21-year olds.
One was Mike who drove down from Indianapolis just for the show, and who could not have looked more disappointed when I informed him he missed The Jayhawks' first four songs. Last time he saw them, he told me, was right up the street, sometime right before their headliner, Wilco, released A.M. (Non-alt-country-fanatics, that's 1995.)
A couple decades removed from 21 (and The Jayhawks' popularity peak), Mike almost looked more Jayhawks then Louris: a grey and shaggy-haired veteran alt-country fan and an ex-regular at a long-closed local bar/venue where he once saw Uncle Tupelo "back when they were still getting along." (Again, non-nerds, we're talking '91, '92.)
As I alternated between marveling at Louris' effortless replication of the radio-friendly riffs of 15 years ago and studying the reactions of the endeared crowd, I tried putting myself in their shoes. I imagined myself as an Indiana student circa '95 while longtime Hawks fans belted along to Hawks classic "Blue" and mass slow danced to "Closer to Your Side" off their new album, Mockingbird Time.
And that right there was the closest that I, an enthralled fan of alt-country who unfortunately showed up a couple decades too late, have come to truly knowing the spirit of The Jayhawks. Louris and his bandmates have always crafted their music towards the working man, not the party kid.
"We wanna say hello to Hoosier country," Louris said between songs with the perfect amount of drawl for southern Indiana. And when he declared that "this might be my new favorite place," it somehow sounded slightly more truthful than exaggerated despite the number of times I've heard such obligatory comments of gratitude from veteran rock bands.
As they wrapped up their encore with "She's Not Alone Anymore," I decided that I actually agreed with Louris more than I would have a couple hours earlier that evening.
Post and Photography by Steven Arroyo
