By Adam Lucas

 

GRAND RAPIDS—Eric Church doesn’t blend in.

 

Never has. There have been times in his career when he could have made it easier by being a little less himself. Maybe compromise a little. Stand in the background.

 

He can’t do it. He is every bit the half-cocked, full tilt, scarred hands to the hilt, don’t push me grown ass man. That’s the only way he knows how to do it.

 

And yet here we are on the Free the Machine tour, where there are two dozen other musicians with him on stage at any given time, and he has absolutely no problem ceding the spotlight to them.

 

It started early, as Evan Cobb delivered a saxophone solo—imagine telling the 2005 version of Church who made regular stops at The Intersection in Grand Rapids that he’d be back here in 20 years with a saxophone solo—before “Johnny.” John Henry Trinko opened “Mistress Named Music” with the lights focused solely on his keys intro. You know during “Smoke a Little Smoke” when Church says, “Give me that low down!” That’s Armand Hutton’s booming bass. Roy Agee had a trombone solo. Jeff Hyde—do you know how hard it is to get Jeff Hyde, one of the most gifted musicians on the planet, to stand in a spotlight?—held center stage during “Cold One.”

 

It's not a surprise that there are other talented individuals on the stage. These are professional musicians who have reached the peak of their craft.

 

The surprise is that Church seems to enjoy their moments in the spotlight so much. This is decidedly not big star diva behavior. But there you have him saluting Driver Williams’ epic solo during “Creepin’.” “My guitar doesn’t do that,” Church said. Bassist Lee Hendricks got a bass solo during “The Outsiders.” “You don’t see many bass solos in country music,” Hendricks says with a grin. Joanna Cotten has multiple starring turns, none more than her epic duet with Church on “Like Jesus Does” near the end of the set.

 

Church brought opener Marcus King back during the main set for the second time in two weeks. The two Carolina boys (Church, of course, is from North Carolina, while King is from Greenville, South Carolina) have bonded over the last couple of weeks. They shared a lengthy dressing room discussion about their musical influences and found common ground with The Band’s “Ophelia.”

 

So they decided to play it on Friday night. “Unrehearsed and impromptu,” Church said. “Because that’s what music is.” At one point, Church simply stood off to the side and watched King carve through the guitar solo.

 

“Well,” Church said when the song was over, “that worked.”

 

And it did. There was no guarantee that it would click, but Church just had to take the chance. The gift is being comfortable enough to try it, to stand back and see what happens. Those unscripted moments when he’s letting the music run free are almost always among the highlights of each night.

 

He’d set the tone for the fun evening before he even took the stage—in fact, before King even took the stage. Very late on Thursday (or very early on Friday, depending on how your clock runs), Chief had been discussing his oft-held belief that he could attend his own show incognito if he simply removed his trademark sunglasses.

 

This was met with the predictable round of disbelief. Stakes were named, the bet was sealed. And that’s why Friday night around 7 p.m., a goateed bespectacled gentleman walked one entire circuit of Van Andel Arena. He was wearing a navy “Chief” hat they sell at the merch stand and a black t-shirt bearing the image of Eric Church.

 

“Chief!” the man barked intermittently, seemingly FaceTiming a friend as he looked into his phone to record the moment. “Woo!” The concourse became more crowded, squeezing him shoulder to shoulder with the packed sellout crowd, including one female fan proudly sporting a Meet and Greet sticker that would entitle her to meet Eric Church 90 minutes later.

 

She had no clue she’d been almost as close to him earlier that evening (keep an eye on Church’s social media for the video in the days to come). “Not one damn one of you,” Church told the crowd from the stage, “recognized me.”

 

For most of Friday, he seemed to enjoy being part of the crowd. During “Springsteen,” for the first time this tour, he ambled into the seats, plopping down next to an awestruck young fan to sing the chorus.

 

The rowdy Grand Rapids crowd loved it. It’s not hard to have energy in the lower deck. This was a crowd that had upper deck energy, standing throughout the 200s level for most of the night. They were still clapping and dancing well after 11:30, long after Church had winnowed the big group on stage to just himself and a guitar.

 

His audible portion of the set list turned into a five-song blend that included “Talladega,” at which point dozens of checkered flags magically began waving in the pit. This was a crowd that arrived prepared.

 

Church loved every second of it. He was so captivated by the crowd that for the first time in recent memory, he tossed his Ray-Bans to a fan, 10-year-old Kaemyn Hines. She might be only ten, but in true Grand Rapids fashion, she was a longtime devotee, this being her sixth Church show. She’d made the seven-hour drive from Ankeny, Iowa, with her parents to be in the pit for this one.

 

“I really can’t believe,” said Kaemyn after the show, still—of course!—proudly wearing the sunglasses, “that he gave them to me.”

 

That left Church to take his final bow with the rest of his band without his shades. According to his theory from approximately 24 hours earlier, that made him completely anonymous, just one of many, a normal guy at a show.

 

Anyone who had experienced the previous two hours knew better.