[show_avatar email=jess@iwenttoashow.com align=left avatar_size=62] “He’s turning three in a couple weeks,” his mother says through bites of a salad that she’s balancing in her hands as we’re all standing in the parking lot of Red Rocks Amphitheater near Denver. She’s watching her son kick the brick-colored dirt, small red puffs of earth rising and then disbursing in the thin air.

“Tell the ladies your favorite Avett Brothers song,” she says to the toddler, and he retreats with a shy grin behind his father’s legs momentarily, emerging to reveal a tiny fist holding up three fingers. My friends and I are confused. “I and Love and You,” she says with a laugh as her husband locks the car and loads up a backpack with kid-friendly snacks. “Come find us if you’re hungry or thirsty at the show!” they say before striding away. They are a kind family, and they are bringing their first child to his first concert. That is one of the things I like about living.

For a born and raised, low country, Midwestern girl, Colorado has always been something of a mirage to me. A few of my more adventurous college friends packed up and moved out there following graduation. Therefore, I visit, I hike (so poorly), I drive through freaking clouds, I get drunk easily (“blame it on the al-a-a-al-a-a-a-altitude”). And each time that I somberly board a plane back to Missouri, I wonder briefly, as we do with some of our greater vacations, just how much of the experience was real.

Such was the case when I travelled west to see that more than burgeoning folk-rock quartet (or quintet, or sextet, depending on the night) composed of guitar and banjo-slanging guys out of Concord, North Carolina. The Avett Brothers had a difficult slot on the bill, even for them, as they played in between Hotel Café regulars Truth and Salvage Co. and the headlining, pleasantly aging hippie jam band Gov’t Mule. Still, as gentle potheads my parents’ age in G.M. tour shirts from nineteen ninety-whatever shuffled in around the younger, already settled members of the crowd, Avett filled with sound and folksy fury what is arguably the most beautiful outdoor amphitheater in the county.

The crowd at Red Rocks. Photo credit: Jordan Cooper.

A kick drum sat front and center of the stage, and its sole purpose was apparently to allow Scott Avett something to stand on and jump off of while (albeit acoustically) tearing to shreds whatever instrument he was playing. After touring extensively, playing nearly every canonical music festival around, and releasing 13 albums or EPs (their 14^th – Live Vol. 3, comes out this year), The Avett Brothers might have perfected the live show. They played for us and for each other and they tried like hell – switching instruments, dancing then running back to mics to harmonize, interacting with what, logistically, could have been an isolated crowd.

The Avetts’ style of music and lyrical content has changed (read, evolved) in the last ten years that they’ve been putting out records. 2002’s Country Was is rambling, twangy, and organic, embodying the impromptu spirit that makes the Brothers so lovable live. Then their most commercially acknowledged release came in 2009, and when they strummed the first chords of the single by the same name, “I and Love and You,” the crowd, without provocation, lifted three fingers into the air and began singing along. What I’m saying is that the almost three year-old from the parking lot knew his shit.

While the sun was setting and warm spotlights began to shine over the monolithic rock structures that provide Red Rocks its name, Seth Avett crooned, “Don’t push me out…just a little longer…” into the microphone and the band launched into “Laundry Room.” It was a smooth, fitting way to end nearly flawless set.

I write all this on IWTAS, a local St. Louis blog, as a teaser for The Avett Brothers’ upcoming, sold out show at the Pageant on September 24^th.  They’ll be joined by bluesy rockers Grace Potter and the Nocturnals in what promises to be a memorable evening. Say what you will about the Brothers and their rumored slide toward the popular scene. Sure, they’re slicker than they used to be, but they’re also humble, hard-working performers who are gracious and patient with fans (see below), not to mention damn talented lyricists.

Our group with The Avett Brothers and me not freaking out. Photo courtesy of Roxanne Warner.

If The Avett Brothers keep growing musically, and undoubtedly they will, it’s likely that they’ll play Verizon or Savvis next time they’re in St. Louis. So take a friend with you on the 24^th. Arrive early, and stay until the last note. You’ll be glad you did.