In concert, John Mellencamp joyfully salutes the ‘mavericks’ and ‘misfits’
John Mellencamp for decades has prided himself as an artist first and foremost, not a “human jukebox” pandering to the drunken masses in outdoor amphitheaters with a string of predictable radio staples. (Prime example: the Eagles at Truist Park in May.)
But his management, his friends and the passage of time softened him up.
“They’ve been asking me to do this for years. ‘Come play outside again.’ And I’m saying, ‘No, no, no,’“ Mellencamp told People magazine at the launch of his first outdoor shed tour in 17 years. “But this time, I’m 74 years old. I thought I might be getting to the age where I might want to try to share these songs with people again,”
Mellencamp even made a video with his buddy Sean Penn to announce the tour. He meets Penn at a roadside diner and the actor sells him on the idea of a greatest hits tour. “God forbid you become generous with your hits and all the soundtrack of people’s lives” Penn says. “I can’t imagine you want to do that.”
By the end, Mellencamp relents and everyone in the diner sings the chorus to his only Billboard No. 1 hit, “Jack & Diane.”
So on Saturday night, Mellencamp gave a boisterous, sold-out crowd at Ameris Bank Amphitheatre in Alpharetta exactly what it wanted: the hits. And he’s had plenty: 22 top 40 hits spanning 17 years from “I Need a Lover’ in 1979 to “Key West Intermezzo” in 1996.
While he didn’t throw oversized beach balls into the crowd, shoot confetti or jump into the audience, Mellencamp did embrace a few concert staples.
He occasionally let the audience fill in the chorus. He told a couple of stories. He changed a line in “Key West Intermezzo,” subbing in Georgia for Kentucky. He did an audio callback a la Freddie Mercury. He even danced a little. And yes, he smiled often.
So sometimes his bile and bluster is a bit of a show. He showed nothing but affection for his eight-piece band, including members who have been with him since his heyday. He declared to the crowd early on that “We are the misfits. We are the mavericks. We are the nonconformists. We are proud to be American. Let’s have a good time tonight.”
The last time Mellencamp performed at Ameris in 2009, he co-headlined with Willie Nelson and Bob Dylan and didn’t even play “Hurts so Good” or “Jack & Diane,” which is kind of like the Rolling Stones skipping “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” or Lynyrd Skynyrd eschewing “Free Bird.”
Not this time. Those two songs were very much part of his act.
In fact, he featured every single Billboard top 10 hit he has ever released. Mellencamp split his 24-song, 140-minute set into two with a 15-minute intermission, or for him, a needed cigarette break.
You’d think all those cigarettes might have degraded his vocal cords, but his already gravelly voice remains resonant and robust.
He resurrected songs he hasn’t played much in recent years, retooling two of his early hits, “Ain’t Even Done With the Night” and “I Need a Lover,” with a dose of fiddle courtesy of Lisa Germano, who joined his band in 1985 when he shifted to a more rootsy-rock feel.
Mellencamp even included his annoying ode to ’60s acts “R.O.C.K. in the USA” to the setlist. In the past, he has called the song “stupid and silly,” which nonetheless peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1986. Good news: The song was over in less than three minutes.
The first half also featured some lesser-known tunes that explored the good, the bad and the ugly of America. There was the New Orleans jazz-inflected 2014 cut “Lawless Times” that indicts religion, the government and Wall Street. 2004’s “Walk Tall” warns against fearmongering and political manipulation.
But his anthemic 2007’s “Our Country” offered more hope than cynicism, including the allusion to the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.: “The Dream is still alive/ Some day it will come true.”
The song, if released in the 1980s, might have been a hit, but by the 2000s, Mellencamp was no longer able to get much radio airplay for his new work so he licensed “Our Country” for the first time to Chevy, which played the song ad nauseam in its ads nearly two decades ago. But people’s memories are short, and most of the audience sat down for this one.
He ended the first half with a solo acoustic “Jack & Diane.”
As he began the second verse, the audience jumped into the chorus instead. Since this is his 14th date of the tour, it was clear Mellencamp was anticipating this. He stopped playing and gave the audience a mock lecture.
“Too soon!” he said. “Songs have verses and choruses. Sometimes, it even has a bridge. This song has all three. But this one has two verses in a row. I was 23 years old. I spent all afternoon writing this stupid verse.”
He and a bulk of the audience then jumped into that second verse with the now famous line: “Suckin’ on chili dogs outside the Tastee Freez/ Diane’s sittin’ on Jacky’s lap, he’s got his hands between her knees.”
The second half of his set was calibrated for dancing, he noted. And he succeeded, focused on a string of high-energy, Screw-The-Man tunes like “Paper in Fire,” “Authority Song” and his sardonic middle finger to the music world, “Pop Singer,” which ironically landed in the top 15 on the pop charts.
Despite his penchant for poignant songs with messages like “Minutes to Memories” or, in the case of “Rain on the Scarecrow,” the death of the family farm, the highlight of the second half was a party song.
He and incredible backup singer Crystal Taliefero (who also backs up Billy Joel) joyfully layered his 1995 cover of Van Morrison’s “Wild Night” with sensual grooves. And John Gunnell infused the key bass line with added kick.
The most politically edged comment he made was pretty tame.
During his 1984 top 10 hit “Pink Houses,” he sang, “Well, there’s people and more people/What do they know, know, know?/Go to work in some high rise/ And vacation down at the Gulf of Mexico.”
He then paused and said, “Is it really Gulf of America?” (The Trump administration changed the name for federal purposes last year.) The crowd provided a mix of cheers and boos. He shook his head and smirked. “It’s been the Gulf of Mexico forever!” That got more cheers.
His conclusion? “It’s still the Gulf of Mexico!”
He ended the night with his 1982 staple “Hurts so Good,” even handing a mic to a front-row fan to sing a chorus and a verse.
When the song ended, his band walked off the stage, leaving him alone. For a few seconds, he stood at the center of the stage with a grin on his face, absorbing the deep affection from the audience.
Mission accomplished.
He ambled off the stage.
Time for another cigarette.