Joy Oladokun fills the Newport with sincerity and authenticity

Newport Music Hall is not the ideal venue for a singer/songwriter. It’s a big, experienced, venue with more advertisements lining the walls than there is charm. You find pockets of life in the foyer or looking at what used to be on the archway framing the stage but overall, it’s a PromoWest venue. It’s not made for charm, it’s made for capitalism and efficiency.

The venue is mostly a blank slate, only to receive a dose of character from whoever is keeping the audience’s attention on the stage. Joy Oladokun defied my expectations, and brought a lifeless building to life.

It began almost immediately with the opener. Now, choosing the right opener, from an outsider’s perspective, can go many ways. A headliner can bring along friends, an act that compliments them well or whoever the record label tells them to bring. Sometimes you get Jimi Hendrix opening for the Monkees, and getting kicked off the tour, or a perfect pairing like the crowd did Tuesday night. Not sure how Oladokun swung it, but they got none other than Joy Oladokun to open the tour.

Now, first impression of a headliner opening their own show is “what went wrong?” That thought was put to bed quickly when Oladokun began to sing, playing an eight-song set featuring a couple covers but mostly original songs. Oladokun took the time to explain why they were opening, paraphrasing Oladokun’s words, but she said that sometimes in a full band set, some of the emotion she feels isn’t there. It’s not as strong.

Photo by Tim Teller

Playing under spotlight, Oladokun played two tracks from 2023’s “Proof of Life” before going into “QUESTIONS, CHAOS & FAITH,” a song from Oladokun’s latest album “OBSERVATIONS FROM A CROWDED ROOM.” Before the song, the singer/songwriter attributed the song to religious trauma, specifically how people responded when Oladokun’s friend Casey died while Oladukon was at Bible college. Oladukon took it into the first cover of the night, playing “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley and countless other artists I can’t remember.

Even so, Oladokun brought range and emotion that matches, and exceeds, most of the best renditions of the song you know. It wasn’t a bastardized version thrown on a Christmas album (why do they put that song on Christmas albums?) but a fitting segue on an Oladokun track full of emotions and storytelling.

During the opening set, Oladokun, a touring artist who’s picked up on a real-life record label, said “I’m just always shocked when people show up,” and I believed it.

It’s hard not to believe Oladokun. The lyrics she writes, and the way that she brings the lyrics not just to you but into you can’t be faked. If it is, give Oladukon all the acting awards.

After adding a rendition of Elton John’s “Rocketman” and an unreleased song that is definitely not part of any new music they are working on, it was time for a brief reprieve and the live set.

When Oladokun returned, now with a keyboard player, bassists and drummer, their songs received new life that you don’t hear on the recorded version. Oladokun switched between electric and acoustic guitar, and when playing their telecaster they added rock, blues and even some psychedelic riffs. At concerts, I’m one of the folks who are bopping their head with their eyes closed the whole time, so the sounds of Oladokun’s voice and the entire band was so good that if makes their already good recorded versions somehow sound even better.

Later in the show, there was a moment that made me call into question something Oladukon said during the opening set. The part about not feeling the same emotion in the band set.

Oladokun proved themselves wrong playing “Black Car,” a song about their dad and dog, although Oladokun’s dad doesn’t like it because he has to share motivation with their rat terrier, Labrador, mix.

At the end of the song from their new album, Oladokun went into “Blackbird” by the Beatles. Following the song, Oladokun turned around crying, an obvious overflow of emotion from a singer who admits that daily people try and tear them down in one way or another.

The crowd wasn’t having any of that kind of talk, and people shouted words of affirmation to Oladokun throughout the 24-song set, stretching two hours between the opening and closing sets. Normally, my inner curmudgeon comes out when folks are shouting things at an artist on stage, mainly because sometimes it feels like it’s for attention seeking reasons.

However, being at a venue that’s basically on Ohio State’s campus, there wasn’t a single “O-H” chant the day after their football team won the National Championship, which made me grateful. It also made me proud of the city in which I live.

Oladokun also took time in their set to talk about hope. In November, I saw Mustard Plug at Rumba Café on the day after the presidential election. It was a night to let out frustration, get in the pit and kind of let go.

Tuesday was also the day after the presidential inauguration, a day that put many people in not-so-great places mentally. After all, immediately trying to attack immigrants and the trans community after getting into office should feel not-so-great. This concert felt more like a night to start setting a foundation based on art and the people around you, because that’s the message from Oladokun.

Judging from the audience response, a vast majority in the nearly sold-out crowd subscribed to it too.

Following the main set, Oladokun and their band emerged for a three-song encore, with Oladokun playing a solid pink Hello Kitty electric guitar. The band went through “DRUGS” from the new Observations LP and “We’re All Gonna Die” that’s record with Noah Kahan but filled in nicely by Oladokun’s bassist.

Then, the night ended how it began. Oladokun played “Flowers” solo, just them and their acoustic guitar. A fitting conclusion in a venue that didn’t match the personality, character and authenticity of Oladokun, but that’s ok. We are here for moments like those provided by Oladokun, not repainted bricks and overpriced drinks.