It was like 1972.

And I mean that in a good way. I pictured myself bellied up to the bar, drinking a beer while a band played on the short riser in the corner. Members dressed identically to how they were on the street just minutes before, the music, the mood being everything, the trappings irrelevant.

There was a giant horizontal hi-def screen above the performers, a stage design I hadn’t seen previously, but it was just a little out of sync with the performers, which was disconcerting, however I was very close, did it matter to those in the back? Probably not. Then again, they have screens further back at the Bowl now.

Stapleton is the antidote to everything everybody complains about in today’s music world. You know, the generic, machine-made songs with vapid lyrics that could be written by a ten year old and make you wince, or are fantasy cartoons, no different from a high concept movie, at least “The Harder They Come” was somewhat believable, I mean Jamaica had a reputation for violence.

So what brings people to see Chris Stapleton?

The songs. Period. Showing their power. You don’t need anything else if you have those.

But the big surprise was Stapleton’s guitar-playing, it’s all about style, not speed, Lowell George taught us this. Your axe is just a starting point, everybody can have a unique voice, assuming they choose to. This show could inspire anybody to play, the power of a guitar is undeniable, in a way a synth never can be. Furthermore, there were a lot of guitars, it seems like each song demanded a new one, and there was even a change in the middle of a song. That’s the luxury of being a superstar, you can live out your fantasy, instead of playing the same damn instrument the whole night, like when you’re coming up. And I was especially inspired by Chris’s playing of a Jazzmaster, which Elvis Costello made his bones on, but everybody else pooh-poohed in favor of the Stratocaster. (And let’s not forget the Gretsch.)

And Stapleton is forty six years old. The antithesis of what we’re told sells. But that’s because he’s so good, so authentic. Chris paid his dues, and he knows it. He kvells at times, it’s rewarding, thrilled that he’s on stage singing his songs, especially when he’s in duet with his wife Morgane.

Unlike the four or five member bar bands, there were seven people on stage. You got a pedal steel player. Another guitarist who oftentimes played an acoustic. And a keyboard/organ player. No one was showing off, but they were locked in as an ensemble, which is the opposite of what we see so often, people showing off, like I said, the music was the star.

Chris talked a bit, but not much. But otherwise this was very similar to a Springsteen show. Chris is singing his inner truth, the angst is evidenced, it’s the heart of America. For all the red/blue divide b.s., there’s a part of everybody who can connect with Stapleton and his music, because we’re all people, human beings at the core.

Now as the show progressed, it left the bar, it had more of the characteristic of a concert, the average bar band doesn’t get to play this long, doesn’t have well-known originals. But Stapleton played for two hours and it didn’t drag. (And unlike so many performers Stapleton didn’t stretch out the numbers ad infinitum, he played them at the length of the records, and therefore he could play twenty three songs.)

And people knew the material. Singing along at times. These were fans, there were no casual users in attendance, it’s not like they’d heard one Stapleton number and needed to see the flavor of the moment, everybody there was very familiar with Stapleton and his music (you can ask me how I know, but you can feel it, whether people are paying attention, whether they sing along, whether they’re on their phones…or not).

This is rock and roll. Not the stuff you hear on Active Rock. That’s a niche product. Made for a minority. It tends to be hard, aggressive, and there’s a market for that, but it’s not very broad. The guitar tech tested the sound playing AC/DC, and in truth AC/DC is an American band, even though they’re from Down Under. Everybody knows them, everybody knows their music, credit Mutt Lange, and maybe we need to credit Dave Cobb when it comes to Stapleton, but the formula WORKS!

Now in truth no one is universal these days. It’s all about your trench, your niche, and how wide it is. You might not be passionate about Stapleton and what he does, but his fans certainly are, a mix of women and men, I cased the joint, about a 50/50 ratio, and there were no tweens there, no one brought their kids to the show, this was a party, an experience for those old enough to drink, who know what adult life is all about, and it’s complicated and difficult, and music when done right is a release.

Stapleton sets your mind free. You see no artifice, just a lot of hard work.

And when I exited the building I saw the trucks. They were all painted on the side, with ads for Traveller Whiskey. And I didn’t see it as a sell-out, or a brand extension, it reminded me of what once was, when the music was magic, when you needed to get closer, when you had to know everything about it, when your deepest desire was to be part of the touring party yourself, having an experience you can’t get anywhere else.

You don’t sit (or stand!) listening to Chris Stapleton and judge him negatively, saying you could do that yourself, listening for the hard drives, the triggered effects, it’s soulful, it resonates in a way that you know but rarely experience anymore. This is what the dinosaurs used to deliver. But Stapleton is not calcified, he’s making new music, he’s having success, he’s the most respected performer in Nashville, wins all the awards, everybody wishes they could do it his way, throw off the constraints of  Music Row and do it their way, but they’re too afraid, they’re worried about their careers more than their music.

I didn’t grow up in Kentucky. Driven through a couple of times, stopped once, but when it comes to the south, I’m a voyeur. But for some reason the south is known for the most authentic fiction and in many cases the most authentic music. You can do it without airs, even though some do. But if you strip it down and still have appeal, you’re a star. Like Johnny Cash, like Willie Nelson, they’re beacons, but most can’t see the light.

I’m not telling you to see Stapleton if you hate this music, if there are not enough beats per minute for you. But if you lived through the pre-internet era, when you had to leave the house for action, when it didn’t come through to you at home, when you had to go to the bar to meet people, to have a chance at love, Stapleton’s show will bring it all back, without sounding ancient, but totally present. When you strip it all down it’s about playing and songs, you need nothing more, and when you get it right anybody can feel it, anybody can see it.

You’d think we’d have more Chris Stapletons. But we don’t. Most people want success fast, or they want to take another direction, they’re not all-in. And of those who are all-in, many just don’t have the talent, the je ne sais quoi that separates the stars from the rest of us. You know it when you hear it.

And I heard it last night.