Sometimes, things don’t go exactly as planned.
In the case of Luke Combs at Rogers Stadium Friday night, much of that imperfection came from the elements.
The damp, drizzly night put somewhat of a damper on what was primed to be a festive night of music, and the fact that the first of his two Toronto stops on the “My Kinda Saturday Night” tour fell on a Friday didn’t help the poetry of it all. But it was a sincere and spirited affair, even if it wasn’t the barn-burning, awe-inspiring spectacle that one would expect from a venue of this magnitude.
Much of the night felt like a homespun state fair, with Combs at its modest centre. At least, that’s how it feels, with a trio of supporting acts — 15-time Grammy nominee Dierks Bentley among them — keeping the seat warm for three hours before Combs himself stepped out on stage.
When Combs eventually did emerge to kick off his two-hour set, it wasn’t so much with a bang as it was with an earnest saunter. Notwithstanding the San Antonio Spurs fans he might have ticked off by wearing a New York Knicks cap, he’s hardly an overbearing presence. Everything about his demeanour feels light, relaxed and inoffensive.
“It’s a good vibe up here in Toronto,” he said in one of his many crowd-banter sessions. “This is a fun place to be.”
Understated though he might be, the 36-year-old North Carolinian is a capable live performer. His vocals are clean, confident and resonant, and he strides across the humbly decorated stage and X-shaped thrust without seemingly a care in the world.
His chosen list of live tracks is, likewise, measured and consistent, with early, poppier tunes (“Hurricane,” “1,2 Many”) intermingling well with more mature, grittier cuts from his latest release, “The Way I Am” (“Back in the Saddle,” “My Kinda Saturday Night.”) His more tender, pedal steel-laced arrangements (“Be By You,” “Beautiful Crazy”) even manage to play fairly well on the bigger stage, inviting scores of phone flashlights alongside swaying couples.
He even peppers in a cover of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” and emcees a five-part medley of Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train,” Maroon 5’s “She Will Be Loved,” Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean,” Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” and Tim McGraw’s “Something Like That” to introduce his band, whom Combs half-jokingly proclaimed are “about a million times more talented” than him.
Admittedly, the show dragged a bit in the middle when a few of the more gloomy songs came out, but if you ask him, that just comes with the territory. After all, the emotional matrix gets flipped on its head when you’re in this frame of mind.
“Sad means happy,” he insisted, “when you’re listening to country music.”
Much of Combs’ appeal lies in his ability to present as genuine, unpretentious and approachable. There’s a certain accidental, modest serendipity to his stardom that makes him an unlikely hero with little to prove.
He even conceded as much.
“I wanna say I dreamed of nights like tonight, but I don’t even know that I ever could have imagined anything like what is going on in front of us here,” Combs said, pacing the stage, mic in hand. “I didn’t really have many expectations other than I wanted to do something that I loved every night and make a living doing that.”
With that context, it’s hard to expect much more than an honest day’s work from Combs.
He’s an admirable standard-bearer for the modern country scene, but might not blow away skeptics of the genre. (If you’re not a fan already, it’s hard to see “Beer Never Broke My Heart” or “Alcohol of Fame” wowing you into submission.)
What you see is what you get. He sings, he plays guitar and he sips from a red solo cup when the moment feels right.
For most, that’s enough.
