The Bergen Record: ‘Dan­cing Words Tour’ Goes Bey­ond The Hits

The Bergen Record By Melissa Ruggieri

But tucked amid time­less mus­cu­lar gems includ­ing “I Need a Lover,” “Cherry Bomb” and “Rain on the Scare­crow” were a hand­ful of album tracks that might not have lighted the charts but were plucked from the cata­log as rare treats for fans.

One of them, 2014’s “Law­less Times,” opened the 21⁄2-hour show (includ­ing a 15-minute inter­mis­sion) and its Bour­bon Street-swing coupled with Mel­len­camp’s dry deliv­ery set the tone for a show he ded­ic­ated to “all you mis­fits, all you mav­er­icks, all you non­con­form­ists.”

It was a fit­ting greet­ing, because Mel­len­camp, 74, has always been can­did, from the bratty Johnny Cou­gar days in the late-1970s and early ’80s to the cranky elder states­man who never met an opin­ion he didn’t want to share.

At the July 29 stop at Jiffy Lube Live in north­ern Vir­ginia, Mel­len­camp and his tre­mend­ous eight-piece band – includ­ing mul­ti­fa­ceted standout Crys­tal Talie­fero, who returned home to the guy who dis­covered her after dec­ades play­ing with Billy Joel – romped and rolled through famil­iar ter­rain that never hurt so good.

John Mel­len­camp’s songs have always impar­ted wis­dom

So many of Mel­len­camp’s songs shuddered with saga­city, from rootsy strum­mers such as “Small Town” and “Key West Inter­mezzo (I Saw You First)” – recast as an acous­tic bal­lad on this night – or barn burn­ers “R.O.C.K. in the USA” and “Paper in Fire.”

Mel­len­camp’s grizzled vis­age is the per­fect match to his husky voice that imbues songs such as “Lonely Ol’ Night” and “Ain’t Even Done With the Night” with lived-in wis­dom that is even more palp­able onstage.

In his white T-shirt and black pants (chan­ging to a black T-shirt for the second act), hair brushed back on the sides except for a stub­born fore­lock, Mel­len­camp fre­quently looked into the crowd to soak in the appre­ci­ation being thrust toward him.

His play­ful­ness was on prime dis­play dur­ing his little ditty “Jack & Diane,” which he per­formed solo with only his acous­tic gui­tar for backup. Teas­ing the eager-to-sing-along crowd for jump­ing to the song’s chorus too early, Mel­len­camp exposed his imp­ish charm as he con­duc­ted the chorus of voices.

John Mel­len­camp will always be a Gulf of Mex­ico guy

A primar­ily hits-filled con­cert always evokes songs that may have been for­got­ten, the “Oh right, he sings that, too” phe­nomenon.

But with Mel­len­camp, it’s more of a memory jog­ger how many treas­ured lyr­ics stem from his clas­sics: “He hit the high­way” (“I Need a Lover”); “Life goes on, long after the thrill of liv­ing is gone” (“Jack & Diane”); “I fight author­ity, author­ity always wins” (“Author­ity Song”); and “Ain’t that Amer­ica, for you and me?” (“Pink Houses”).

The last of that group, his 1983 com­ment­ary on race and class dis­par­ity often mis­in­ter­preted as pat­ri­otic pab­u­lum, has included impro­vised com­ment­ary from Mel­len­camp dur­ing the lyric about vaca­tion­ing “down at the Gulf of Mex­ico.”

Mel­len­camp’s remarks at other recent shows about the Trump admin­is­tra­tion’s renam­ing the body of water the Gulf of Amer­ica have included some form of “that was stu­pid.” (The White House respon­ded, call­ing him an “out-of-touch, woke Hol­ly­wood” celebrity.)

At the Vir­ginia show, Mel­len­camp was more muted, stop­ping the song to ask, “Didn’t we change the name of that?” Boos from the crowd filled the air as he con­tin­ued, “The Gulf … of Amer­ica. I think the Gulf of Mex­ico is bet­ter.” The boos changed to cheers.

John Mel­len­camp’s rebel­li­ous spirit drives him

Along with his status as blue-col­lar rocker, Mel­len­camp is also a respec­ted artist.

Though the visu­als for the show – a vin­tage movie theater, a burn­ing field – lent a pol­ished edge, it was a delight to see many of Mel­len­camp’s self-por­traits scroll behind the stage dur­ing the sar­donic “Pop Singer.”

Inter­spersed with Mel­len­camp’s idio­syn­cratic views of him­self were old press shots of the singer, many without a shirt or show­cas­ing pouts and flexed biceps, that fit the song’s wry mes­sage.

But the ensu­ing offer­ings – “Author­ity Song” and “Crum­blin’ Down” – were per­fectly placed remind­ers of the rebel­li­ous spirit that has powered his career and how the heart of Mel­len­camp’s music has always been his soul.