There is nothing about touring as a small to medium-sized music act that sounds appealing. From the cost of expenses, time away and limited return on investment, filling up a van and driving thousands of miles looks like fool’s gold. Then when anyone in the world with a wifi signal and a few minutes to invest in finding new music can listen to you, reaching an entire fanbase is an impossible feat. So, when Gar Hole Records artist Chris Acker hit the road and had a stop in Cleveland, Ohio, it was an instant yes.
While there is always a twinge of sadness when the indie country label announces tour after tour that does not include any of the cities within two-to-four hours from Columbus, it never turns into outward frustration at any of the artists. After all, see above. Touring sucks.
On the label are artists that range from traditional country to folks who make indie-themed tracks that sound like songs on 1990s country radio. Then there are groups that blend country and the culture of New Orleans, where the label is now located.
Acker tells stories as much as he creates ear-catching songs. While musically they are straightforward, Acker leans on analogy and turn of phrase to grab the attention of anyone smart enough to listen. Often about his own journeys, Acker’s travels brought him to the north shore at the Beachland Tavern.
A look at my personal list of favorite Cleveland venues and Beachland is right around the top. For the uninitiated, it is two rooms in one. The larger ballroom and the smaller tavern. I usually see one to two shows there a year, but on Thursday it was the first time both venues had concerts at the same time.
When my friend and I pulled up to one of the ample free parking spots in the area, the line to get into the building stretched around to the back of the parking lot. Concert anxiety hit me, because I immediately thought that everyone was there for the concert I wanted to see. It is not that I do not like a lot of people at concerts, or that I want to be directly up front. Sometimes I just do not feel like standing back-to-front in a sardine can, especially with a two-hour commute and work ahead of me in the 12 hours that followed.
We sat across the street inside Citizen Pie, a swell pizza spot that usually has on a good 90s movie on tv to watch as concert lines die down. Before the doors opened, my anxiety lifted when Acker himself walked past the line of fans. Not one of them gave him their attention. In the ballroom was Brenn!
That exclamation point is not for excitement. It is in his name. Excitement is required and the sea of younger 20-somethings that occupied the line appeared to have no intentions of listening to songs about coffee, overdrafting your bank account and styrofoam.
After a trip downstairs to the vintage/record store, where I nearly bought a 1980s satin Cleveland Browns jacket that was in nearly new condition (didn’t fit (feel bad for me)), it was time for the show.
The 50 people, and one dog, in attendance went on a trip guided by Chris Acker, his backing band The Growing Boys and The Montvales.
Up first was the banjo and guitar duo out of Tennessee who currently call Cincinnati, Ohio home. The Montvales are friends Sally Buice and Molly Rochelson who beautifully harmonize through songs about touring and the people they have met along the way. Seeing the pair was another reason why this tour was an instant addition to the calendar.
On March 20, 2026, The Montvales released their third LP, “The Path of Totality” on Free Dirt Records. The 12-track album was the focus of the set, although songs from previous albums like “Born Strangers” and one of my personal favorites “Above the Tennessee” from the duo’s 2024 album “Born Strangers.”
All their songs included both voices, but they also traded the primary responsibilities. While their voices work together seamlessly, they each carry their own personality. Rochelson carries a bite while Buice almost floats. That does not mean that one singer’s primary songs stick out over the other. They create a diverse set of songs that never leave a listener bored.
When I listen to The Montvales, I hear a journey. Listening to them perform live is more than a nice sound in your ears from a friendly duo of singers. No. Listening to them puts you in the stories. It is a way to live through their travels and share a small piece of their experience in a way that resonates beyond the end of an all too short opening set.
Beyond all of that, they even had a dog. Along for the ride with The Montvales was Trout, the band’s official road dog who spent time in Beachland’s bar area before their set, and between bands. My only regret of the night was not petting the pup.
Enter Chris Acker and the Growing Boys. Acker played guitar while bass guitar, drums and pedal steel supported the 12-song set. Like The Montvales, Acker shared stories from the road, but not with a lot of romanticism. Acker shared that his own journey led him to a stage where he traveled around the United States, letting the crowd know that he did not find himself, like many poetically try to do. All while wearing a vintage Seattle Mariners hat and blue satin jacket that looked a lot like that Browns jacket that may still be sitting on the rack under the venue.
The songs themselves take the normal, often overlooked, elements of a story and use them as the focal point. Take “Bunn Machine” as a good example. Before the song, Acker told the crowd how a kind stranger in New Orleans took him in when he saw the singer standing by the road with the bag of his belongings. Acker let the Cleveland audience know that this person had a certain fetish that he did not require Acker to partake, but it sometimes meant he had to vacate the premises.
As Acker’s story goes, in the morning Acker and his host sat in the lone living room chair while they watched movies, drinking coffee from the Bunn machine. Like Acker instructed on the stage, listen to the first verse of “Bunn Machine” yourself if there is any urge to learn more about the host’s unique interest.
In the set were songs from all three full length Acker releases on top of new tracks from an album Acker and his band recorded in mid-April — “Dallas,” “Left Lane Loafer,” and “Tinned Fish.” Old, slightly newer or coming soon, the lyrics were never overshadowed or understated. Acker’s clear and distinct singing lingers as he delivers his lines. For every “Bunn Machine” there is a “Stubborn Eyes,” a tale of a child pushing for any kind of fatherly attention. Acker does not beat around the bush either, starting the track with a verse that does not let go.
“As rare as the tears that his dad cried,
So was his and his dad’s time,
So he would act far out of line just to feel the weight of those stubborn eyes.”
During “Good Kid,” from the 2020 album with the same title, technical difficulties kept the pedal steel from working for Nikolai Shveitser. To ensure that the audience had the full experience, Acker asked Shveister to play the steel solo a couple songs later. While the steel pedal player looked embarrassed, and maybe still slightly annoyed with the momentary electronic problems, a round of applause helped from the small, but loud crowd.
Quick aside, talking during a show is disrespectful. Not necessarily to the other people who got a ticket. That is whatever. It is a lack of any respect for the musicians themselves.
Acker’s set quieted slightly when the bass and drums left for a couple songs. They returned for the last couple of tracks in the encore-less set. In just about every concert, the band themselves are not around until they come out to play, sometimes arriving on stage with fanfare fit for the wanted attention. That night, both The Montvales and Acker and his band were always around. Not only at a merch table either but walking around and talking with folks. Like Dollar Country, the DJ who played traditional country 45s before the live music and between sets.
The performance felt like an extension of the room. Personal stories put on tracks and shared with other people in an environment fitting for the music. There was no wall between fan and performer. Do not miss the chance to go along on their journey, especially if either bands’ travels come to a local venue.
