The Bluebird Cafe

Friday night I visited the legendary Bluebird Café, where five top country songwriters took the stage in a rare performance and collaboration. They’re all good friends and have birthdays close together, so this was their annual birthday celebration/show. It was a pajama party, so the band and a few knowing members of the audience were flopping around the Bluebird in their slippers and pjs. Now these are the guys that wrote the songs that played endlessly through every high school dance I remember: Vince Melamed (“Walkaway Joe”), Bob DiPiero (“American Made”), Gary Burr (Carole King), Jim Photoglo (“Fishin in the Dark”), and Kelly Keagy (“Sister Christian”).

I kept listening to these songs thinking “he wrote that song?” Whether or not you’re a country fan, I had to admit that I was watching the country music equivalent of Motown’s Holland-Dozier-Holland. Apparently this show sold out in 15 minutes, so I’m lucky that I’m with one of the performers’ label owner who has arranged to get us in.

The Bluebird is surprisingly small and quaint—considering its notoriety, I think I expected something much grander. But in retrospect, it's perfect. It seats about a hundred, with a small stage only a foot or two off the ground. Seats are arranged in a semi circle, crowding the stage and filling every inch of space. It's difficult to move once the show starts and everyone is seated, the waitresses weaving through the seats silently.

It starts to occur to me throughout the show, that the Bluebird is not only legendary for its performances, but for its audiences. The audiences go expecting to listen, and they do so with such rapt attention that the performers have an amazing palette to work with. I’ve seen the dynamic before—when you set the stage for magic to happen, it always does. It’s the whole philosophy behind the house concerts we host when I’m back in town. The waitresses walk around wearing t-shirts that say “SSHHHH!” on the back. People here clap when a lyric moves them, they hang on every word, they hold their breath, they laugh and clap on cue, and they live the old adage: it’s all about the song.