I discovered Barns Courtney last year. Well actually, I didn’t discover him, my daughter did. After attending one of his concerts in RiNo, her Uber failed to show, and she was left standing alone in a dangerous neighborhood. Barns stepped out of his tour bus and stayed with her for over an hour. They connected over philosophy, music, and culture while he waited with her. After finally finding her ride, he actually messaged me and said how lovely it was meeting her and that she was safely on her way.
Beyond his music, Barns has an incredibly moving personal story. A kid raised by single mother, he has emerged both compassionate and rebellious, with a big heart. He certainly hasn’t let his past define him. In fact, I believe it is part of what burns inside him to be the exceptional human he is.
His music is acoustically the Seattle sound, except way deeper, like Jim Morrison vibes. Everything is very real, very relatable, and you can tell when he sings that it’s not just words.
It’s unmistakable how much Barns loves his fans, and that love is unequivocally returned from them. It was almost a religious experience. He grins so often and and easily during his performances.
Tonight, he was losing his voice, so he switched his electric guitar for an acoustic one and serenaded his adoring fans with a husky, sweet voice. The audience knew all the words, and carried him not only with their voices, but physically, as he stepped off the stage and fell breathlessly into the crowd. Immediately he was embraced by hundreds of supportive fans. I laughed as Barns was swept away across the auditorium with absolute joy on his face. It was like watching someone melt into their lover’s embrace.
This may not be your ordinary article which reviews a band, because this isn’t your ordinary artist. Barns Courtney isn’t just an indie rocker; he’s like a kid on Christmas morning, (even with a liberal cocktail of cold meds). You can’t fake that kind of swagger, even with Sudafed.
