Sunday was a special day for Vero’s native son, Jake Owen. His little girl turned three, and his upcoming Riverside concert was announced.
No, not Riverside Café. He’s been knocking out sets there, impromptu and otherwise, since his very first performances as a teenage wannabe rock star.
This time, it’s the Stark Stage at Riverside Theatre, across the park from the rowdy riverfront hangout. The concert benefits the Jake Owen Foundation, which supports St. Jude’s Hospital as well as numerous programs for young people in Indian River County.
If you’re hoping for seats to the Dec. 11 concert, it’s likely you’ll be disappointed. “We expect it to sell out immediately,” said Michele Cope, publicist for Owen’s foundation. And it sold out in less than a half hour after release of tickets at 10 a.m. Monday.
Owen’s next appearance in our area is at the Runaway Country Music Fest in Kissimmee March 18.
For those who managed to nab one of Riverside’s 692 seats, the countrified amplified pop rock that has made Owen famous will be muted, at least for part of the night.
For once, Owen is giving us a taste of Jake unplugged, with an acoustic set that may or may not include his as yet unannounced guest artists.
The unadorned vocals may reflect a softer, more vulnerable man, one who knows a broader spectrum of joy and heartache after an unexpected pregnancy not quite four years ago led to a marriage that fell apart a few months ago, but produced a new love of his life, little Pearl, his dark-eyed fishing buddy and “best friend,” as he repeatedly calls her.
If his latest single is any indication, the concert won’t lack for his trademark laid-back vibe. “Real Life,” an early release from an upcoming album, was written by a team that talked it over first with Owen. His directions: A song that differed from the beach themes he’s known for and instead addressed “real-life situations.”
The team gave him a “bro-country” tune that he sang in June on the CMA Awards show and on his Sept. 30 debut appearance on “The Ellen DeGeneres Show.”
Those real-life situations include a distinctly unglamorous pack of guys slobbing around at a Waffle House, and at least one autobiographical reference:
“Well I grew up in a real town where the prom queen wore a plastic crown and we really did just drive around ‘cause there wasn’t shit to do.”
Ouch. But it wraps up in real time with hard-earned equanimity:
“We get real low, we get real high. It ain’t all good, baby, but it’s all right. Real life.”
