The last time Shania Twain was introduced on stage as “Little Miss Twain,” she would’ve had big dimples, spaces in her teeth, and a guitar that she hadn’t yet grown into.
You’d catch her playing after last call in a smoke-filled bar in her hometown of Timmins, Ont., taking requests from patrons who were several drinks deep. Her mom/manager would’ve been watching from side-stage, confident that her daughter was destined for stardom.
In the 50-odd years since, Twain has checked nearly every box on the stardom bucket list. She’s the top-selling female artist in country music history. She’s an Officer of the Order of Canada with three diamond-certified albums. Her shelves are lined with Grammys, Junos and Billboard Music Awards.
But there’s one thing that has eluded the artist her entire career: a gig at the Horseshoe Tavern.
So when she stepped onto the Horseshoe stage on Friday night, it was hard to tell who felt more gratitude: Twain or the 400 fans who couldn’t believe their luck.
“It’s a privilege to be here, finally,” she told the crowd.
The intimate show, whose $40 tickets sold out immediately, was booked around the upcoming release of the artist’s seventh studio album, “Little Miss Twain.”
Shania Twain’s dream was to play the Horseshoe Tavern
The record revisits her youth in northern Ontario, highlighting the experiences that marked Twain’s life before signing her first record deal. For such a return to her roots, it only made sense for the artist to return to the type of venue she might’ve played back then. Or at least, one that she aspired to play.
“The dream of the bar bands in my youth was to play the Horseshoe Tavern,” she told the crowd. “But we weren’t established enough. So this is really a full circle moment.”
For many, Twain is synonymous with stardom — the kind that involves turning down a wedding invitation from Taylor Swift because you’re busy supporting Harry Styles in a 12-night run at Wembley Stadium. But as the artist wove hits with new tracks from “Little Miss Twain,” she beautifully bridged her pre- and post-fame worlds.
Wearing a lace-detailed bodysuit and knee-high boots, Twain played five tracks from her upcoming album. Each song was paired with a generous anecdote, infusing the set with the intimacy of a songwriter’s circle.
Fans were regaled with stories about a younger Twain and her mom manually pushing their Chevy out of the driveway, so as not to alert her father that they were using precious gas for late-night gigs (“Little Miss Twain.”) She talked about how she used to fantasize about marrying a “northern man” and one day having a worn-in pickup truck of her own (“Dirty Rosie.”)
“No way that a pickup truck in northern Ontario would be shiny,” she explained.
In this stripped-down setting, Twain put her songwriting and storytelling in the spotlight. On a few occasions, she’d revisit a verse after the song was finished, not only to make sure that she nailed the new lyrics, but that the audience had heard them properly.
The Twain pop machine polish gave way to beautiful imperfections
“Thanks so much for being open to hearing the new music,” she said.
Removed from the stadium settings that Twain and her fans are used to, the sheen and polish of the pop machine gave way for imperfections — moments of audio feedback, forgotten lyrics and false starts. But these moments brought a refreshing level of realness typically incompatible with Twain’s level of fame.
At one point, she stopped to listen to a fan’s story about seeing her perform in Huntsville, Ont. It’s hard to imagine that happening at Scotiabank Arena, the last Toronto venue Twain played in 2023.
“I hope you’re OK with going with the flow,” she told the audience.
It was an intimacy that made it easy to forget that Twain played for 90,000 people just two weeks ago. At one point, a fan shouted “that’s a Grammy winner!” helping you snap back into the reality that this humble artist strumming her guitar and telling stories about her northern roots was, in fact, the Shania Twain.
Another great reminder, of course, were the hits, perfectly balanced with the new material.
Twain led the crowd in the stomp-stomp-clap for “Any Man of Mine.” She held the mic out as the audience belted “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” at the top of their lungs. She warned us to “not forget the lasso” as she closed the night with “Giddy Up!” She let the crowd take the punchlines on “That Don’t Impress Me Much.” At the end of “You’re Still the One,” after singing “Looks like we made it,” she turned to the audience and enthusiastically ad-libbed “right?!”
‘According to my mother, I’m the next Tanya Tucker’
Twain, supported by a six-piece band, sounded strong. While her bandmates were all equipped with microphones of their own, providing backup vocals and filling out the sound throughout the night, there were several moments where she sang a cappella.
She toggled between sitting behind her sparkled black guitar and standing, going to the edge of the tiny Horseshoe stage and flashing wide smiles at the eager fans in the front rows.
If anybody gets a poor grade for the night, it wouldn’t be Twain or her band. It would be the audience members talking so loudly between songs that you could hear a choir of shushes reverberating throughout the room all night. Or the ones filming the near entirety of the set, phones held directly above their heads to the chagrin of the people behind them. The intimate concert was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and it’s unfortunate to be reminded of how many people still need to brush up on concert etiquette.
But the excitement in the room was still palpable, and it was clear how thrilled Twain is about her new material. And she should be.
One of the highlights of the evening was her performing the new title track, “Little Miss Twain,” an instant country classic about her mom’s belief in her talent and potential.
“According to my mother, I’m the next Tanya Tucker. I’m gonna be a star,” she sang.
Witnesses will surely say: ‘I was there that night at the Horseshoe’
Twain’s mom passed away before she signed her first record deal, but the artist ended up featuring Tanya Tucker on her new album. When the audience erupted in applause, someone in front of me leaned over to his girlfriend and said what might’ve been on many peoples’ minds.
“If only her mom knew.”
Full circle moments like this one are rare to witness in the music industry — an artist returning to their roots, doing a sort of victory lap in a venue they had long coveted.
The show was a successful launch of Twain’s new material. It was a successful promotional strategy for her next era.
And it was successful in ensuring that every single person in that venue would go on to proudly say, at some point in their lives, ‘I was there that night at the Horseshoe.’
