by Jodeane Brownlee, faculty
OMAHA, Neb. — I’ve seen Eric Church many times, and one thing he’s always made crystal clear is this: when he was just starting out, it was the Omaha and Council Bluffs crowd that filled the room. Long before the arena tours and massive productions, these folks showed up. He tells that story often, and says he’s never forgotten it. His loyalty to this market has always felt genuine. It’s always felt earned.
Church is touring in support of Evangeline vs. the Machine, an album that feels like another step in a career built on refusing to stay still. The record explores tension, change and perspective, themes that felt especially resonant in Omaha. Watching him move between new songs and the legends who shaped him, it was clear this was not just another stop on a tour. It felt like an artist taking stock.
He smiled more. He removed his signature sunglasses, revealing more than just his unmistakable voice and gift for songwriting. There was a looseness to him that I haven’t noticed before, the kind that comes from living long enough to know what deserves your energy and what doesn’t. After surviving an industry that can chew people up and witnessing tragedy like the Las Vegas shooting, where a fan who came to see him was killed in the largest mass shooting in U.S. history, you either harden or you grow. With his eighth released studio album, this version of Church feels like growth.
Midway through the show, after the big-stage production and arena-filling sound, he pivoted. He leaned into the music that shaped him, and shaped most of us in the stands, pulling threads from the legends: Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton. It wasn’t nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. It felt rooted. A reminder of where this genre began and why it still matters.
Then came the tribute to Toby Keith, exactly two years to the day since his passing. When Church sang “Don’t Let the Old Man In,” it hit in a way I didn’t expect. I cried when Keith sang it in December 2023, and I found myself doing it again. Some songs meet you differently depending on where you are in life. That one carries weight. It reminded me that time isn’t something you outrun. Rather it’s something you respect.
That may be why the show surprised me. I didn’t walk in expecting to be moved like that, but I left a bigger fan than ever. More aware of the parallels between growing older and growing alongside the artists who soundtrack your life.
I first connected deeply with “The Outsiders” during a season when everything seemed to be clicking. My son was wrestling in high school, I was surrounded by driven young people chasing big goals, and my own career was hitting a stride with student awards and faculty recognition. Momentum felt like a friend. That album became the hype soundtrack to one of the most fulfilling choruses of my life. Before that, “Sinners Like Me” had already pulled me back to my country roots in a way that felt refreshing. Eric has been there across chapters, not as background noise but as punctuation marks to my favorite memories.
Age and experience can make you better if you embrace them. Don’t fight it. Figure out what matters. Hold tight to your people. That is the antidote to the rest of the noise.
For those reading this on a college radio website, here is what I’ve learned after a long time in this medium: Music will grow with you, if you let it. It can define segments of your life. It will heal you when you didn’t know you needed healing. And it may still surprise you, even at your ninth or 10th Eric Church concert.
Find artists you love, whether that’s country, hip-hop, rock, jazz, indie or something your circle doesn’t understand.
Like what you like. With abandon and without apology.
One day, you will realize you didn’t just watch your favorite artist evolve.
You evolved, too.
