cohn3 His songs are stories and they are unleashed emotion. Every element of composition, instrumentation, and delivery has a way of scooping you up and taking you somewhere … a place Cohn has been, a place he can bring you very near to if you're willing.

Elgin Community College's Blizzard Theater
Elgin, IL
Saturday, March 15th

It's a simple enough arrangement. Marc Cohn starts out behind a Kawai grand piano and his stage companion sits behind a small keyboard. This is the “band” for tonight's show.

Cohn's fingers find the feeling in those black and white keys the way a poet draws beauty from letters of the alphabet. His whispery, gospely, soulful voice transforms lyrics into felt-experiences and instantly we are riding along with him on a “Ghost Train.” The gentleman on the electric keyboard punctuates Cohn's rhythms with his own touches, adds the occasional vocal harmony.

It's too dark in the Blizzard Theater for me to take notes. Which right away I'm thinking is unfortunate, because it turns out Cohn has a gift for using humor to be self-effacing and I want to capture some of what he is saying for my concert review. I'm frustrated that I can't write down any quotes but I know I'll get it wrong if I “wing it.” So I fold up the paper, slip it in a pocket along with the Bic.

Cohn artfully makes his way through the expected catalog—“True Companion,” “Silver Thunderbird,” “29 Ways,” and (of course) “Walking in Memphis.” With little vocal line variations and off-script musical wanderings, his live presentations of the songs are fresh and fun. Surprisingly, the missing bass and percussion aren't really missed so much.

Cohn moves from piano to guitar for “One Safe Place” and he reminds us he can find the feelings in strings just as he can keys. The song list jumps from old to new and back.

His songs are stories and they are unleashed emotion. Every element of composition, instrumentation, and delivery has a way of scooping you up and taking you somewhere … a place Cohn has been, a place he can bring you very near to if you're willing. 

The piano has been imperfectly tuned and Cohn makes a humorous remark about it (that I can't write down and therefore don't remember as I write this). He manages to minimize its effect, but every now and then he winces and shakes his head a little when a slightly-off note rings out. He might have been petty. Instead he is gracious.

Behind me sits an early-clapper, to my right a non-subtle-whisperer (“Oh, this is one of my favorites”). But this is amusing rather than annoying. The audience is appreciative and responsive, the invisible transaction between stage and seats feels like a welcome rain of musical celebration and our otherwise average Saturday has become something better, something higher, beneath the baptism. 

In between songs there are personal stories about relationships and about music which are (you'll have to trust me on this) funny, poignant, and (as stated before) self-effacing. All this talent, and he is the opposite of arrogant. I find, at the end of it all, that I appreciate Marc Cohn even more than I already had, as a musician, as a composer, as an artist, and as a fellow human being.

If Marc Cohn makes it out your way, see him: Marc Cohn Tour Schedule

Jim Wormington