Written by Jimmy Nguyen.
On a Friday night, April 11, Junior Brown, a rockabilly guitarist, performed at the Metal Building at Savannah’s Trustees’ Garden. At first glance, the space didn’t seem rock ‘n’ roll enough: in the back corner of the event space (typically used for weddings), an impromptu bar, a raised platform only eight feet above the ground. There was barely space between Brown and the audience. They all sat down on chairs placed so close to each other that their knees touch. In an era where musical performances emphasize spectacle—dazzling light, deafening sounds, grand production—the stripped-down venue was indeed a rebellious setup, and that’s the point. Here, music doesn’t overwhelm—it unites.
Brown’s style is hard to define. Playing the “guit-steel” —part guitar, part steel guitar, he delivered demon riffs from lightning speed in “Nitro Express” to an easygoing sway in “My Wife Thinks You’re Dead” —one that resembled Jimmy Buffett. It felt as if Brown did his research on Savannah’s diverse background and prepared a setlist with something for everyone. He reinforced the comfort in his songs using a conversational tone and country twang. This allowed the audience to find themselves on his drive to San Antone, to daily confrontations with his wife for coming home late. His vulnerability made the audience feel at ease. In a city where old Southern culture meets vibrant new culture, like Savannah, Brown’s music seemed like a message about connection despite all differences.
Brown used technical issues as an opportunity to interact. While he tuned his guitar strings, he engaged you with a story about Mark, an arrogant guy who smashed his guitar at a bar where Brown performed, and jokes with his wife, Tanya Rae, about his alleged infidelity. His banter — delivered in running sneakers and a suit —made us think of Brown less like the star on stage and more like a friend who happens to know how to play the guitar. Like everyone in the audience, he was there to have fun. It’s subtle and clever moments like this that made this performance about the bond rather than the awe.
When Brown showcases his virtuoso in “Surf Medley,” the spotlight switched from him to a couple dancing. This bold detail turned the performance into a cozy gathering in someone’s living room instead of a rock ‘n’ roll concert. The speaker wasn’t roaring in your ears, heightening the intimacy. Warmth reached its peak in Brown’s duet “Highway Patrol” with Emily, a blonde eight-year-old girl whom he invited on stage. Even on his most popular song, his talent took a passive role, letting the light shine on the young girl’s voice. It was a reminder that sometimes a powerful performance is all about chemistry and personal connection.
The attire, too, was mismatched—sandals, heels, layered dress, work uniform. Yet strangely enough, everyone wore a smile. As much as Brown has rocked us through and through, tonight isn’t about what he can or cannot do. It’s about the Savannah community brought together by his music.
