Going into this one at Coal Creek Brewing in Princeton, we honestly weren’t sure what we were walking into. A Tuesday, 5–7 PM, a private group Jim was hosting, and a room we’d never played before. We didn’t know where we’d set up, how loud we should be, or if people would be listening closely or just chatting over us.
Early signs this was going to be our kind of room
Coal Creek sits right on South Main, and they’ve got this retractable front window that basically turns the whole front of the place into an open-air stage. Bartender Kate pointed us to the usual band spot right in front of that window, with the outdoor bar directly behind us. Once we opened everything up, a cool July breeze came through and our sound drifted out onto the sidewalk and patio. Not bad for a Tuesday.
While we were setting up, we started noticing little signs that this might be a good fit. One of the taps was a Grateful Dead-themed craft beer, which is basically a direct line to Tom’s heart. Then Joni Mitchell’s “California” came on over the house speakers—another one of Tom’s all-time favorites. We remember thinking, “Okay, I think we’re in the right place.”
Jim, who brought everyone together for this, showed up not long after. Super kind guy, easy to talk to. He filled us in: a mix of friends, some folks from civic groups he’s involved in, and a handful of people who were newer to the area and just getting connected. A bunch of them turned out to be musicians too, which always keeps you on your toes in a good way.
Full-circle connections and surprise guests
One of those musicians was Payton Schott, who owns West Main Coffee & Books in Toulon. I used to play music with her a few years back. Our side project never totally found its lane, but it ended on good terms, and I’ve always thought the world of her as a person and as a musician. She’s also the one who helped connect us with Jim for this Coal Creek date, so this gig was kind of the Toulon–Galva–Princeton triangle closing a loop.
There was a funny moment at the bar before I realized she was there. I ordered a flight of beers for Tom and me (Jim had generously told us drinks were on him), and I ended up chatting with this guy at the bar. I knew I recognized him from somewhere but couldn’t place it, so I was half making small talk, half frantically searching my brain. Nothing. A little while later, once we’d started playing again, I looked up and saw Payton sitting with him and it clicked: that was her husband I’d just been awkwardly talking to.
Songs that stretched past quitting time
Once we got rolling, it felt like the room leaned in pretty quickly. People had reserved tables technically on the far side of the room, but by the time we were into the set, everyone had drifted over toward our corner. That made the whole live acoustic duo performance feel more like a living room hang than background noise.
Jim’s group was easy to play for—lots of listening, some quiet singing along, and the kind of laughter between songs that lets you know people are relaxed. We were supposed to wrap at 7 PM, but we ended up stretching things a bit because it just didn’t feel like the right moment to shut it down. I’ll be honest, those are the nights we live for: when you glance at each other mid-song and silently agree, “Yeah, we’re going a little long.”
The surprise highlight was when Payton hopped up to sing a couple of tunes with us that we had literally never played together before. We took a swing at Fleetwood Mac’s “Rhiannon” and then Petula Clark’s “Downtown.” No rehearsal, no plan—just, “Let’s see what happens.” It was loose in the best way, and the room was right there with us.
Beers, Big Macs, and the drive home
Between sets and after we wrapped, we worked through that beer flight Tom had ordered, comparing notes like we actually knew what we were talking about. Tom eventually settled on a full 16 oz of a blueberry/blackberry wheat draft called “Plot Twist,” which pretty much nailed the whole night in one phrase. Neither of us expected a Tuesday at Coal Creek to turn into one of our favorite recent gigs, but there we were.
We chatted with the Coal Creek crew before we left, and they sounded interested in having us back. The feeling is mutual—we’d come back to Princeton for this crowd and this room in a heartbeat. For anyone looking for live music in Princeton, Coal Creek Brewing Company is doing it right.
The only downside to Princeton on a Tuesday night: no Taco Bell on the way out of town. So we settled for McDonald’s off the interstate. Tom cashed in some points on his app and somehow scored us a Big Mac and two McChickens for under two bucks. We ate fast food in the car, replaying the night—Payton jumping up to sing, that cool breeze through the open window, Jim’s friends singing along from their tables—as the miles rolled by on I-80.
For a day of the week we almost never play, this was easily the best Tuesday we’ve had in a long time.
Want something like this at your place?
If you’re putting together a gathering and want a piano-and-guitar acoustic duo to set the tone—whether it’s a brewery crowd like this, a private party, or something in between—you can reach out to us here: Bell & Field booking.
Sometimes you pull into a town, start unloading gear, and you can just tell it’s going to be a good one. That’s how it felt rolling into Monmouth for our Market Alley Wines show on July 11.
Once we kicked off the first set, it felt like the whole alley kind of clicked into place. There was that low hum of conversation, glasses clinking, and then this slow shift as people started actually listening. By the time we hit “I Feel Fine,” Greg was sneaking in some extra piano runs and Tom just looked over and grinned. Those are the little moments that make a live acoustic duo performance fun for us.
We wrapped up, packed the gear, and then hung out a bit with Sarah and Jeff to catch up. They’re the kind of venue owners that make Market Alley Wines entertainment feel like a collaboration instead of just a booking. Monmouth’s got a good thing going with them anchoring that alley.
About Bell & Field:
If you’re the kind of person who likes a low-key Saturday night where you can have dinner, catch up with friends, and still hear the words to the songs, this one is right in that lane.
Outdoor gigs in July are always a bit of a gamble. Heat, humidity, storms – usually at least one shows up. Our live acoustic duo performance for Valley View Club’s 60th anniversary in Cambridge managed to flirt with all three and still let us get through the show.
his whole night was about anniversaries – 250 years of America and 60 years of Valley View Club. The course has been there for about one-fifth of the country’s history, which is kind of wild when you think about it.
We wrapped the main part of the night with “Wild Night,” which is always a fun one to end on, and then closed things out with “America the Beautiful” on the eve of the 4th. Greg and Paul leaned into a version that stays close to the Ray Charles arrangement – soulful, patient, and not rushed. It felt like the right way to nod to both the country’s birthday and Valley View’s 60 years.
We don’t play a lot of museums, so getting asked to be part of the Kewanee Historical Society’s 50th birthday party already felt a little different in the best way. Instead of a stage or a corner of a bar, we were set up on the mezzanine, looking down over the main floor while people came in, grabbed food, and found old friends.
The star of our setup area, though, was this bright orange vintage sofa under a painting of a Hawaiian woman who is… let’s just say, not overdressed. The painting used to hang at the old Waunee Farms restaurant, and once we saw it, we knew there was no way we were getting through the night without a photo or two.
Our second Father’s Day at Tuggers in Port Byron looked pretty different from the first one. Last year it was all sunshine on the patio and people hanging out by the river. This year: nonstop rain, temps in the upper 50s, and us hauling gear inside instead of out to the deck. Still, by the time we finished playing, it felt like exactly the kind of Father’s Day we both needed.
This show had an extra layer for Tom: his whole family was there—parents, kids, significant others, Malissa—taking over a couple of tables and making it very clearly a Father’s Day thing. Somewhere in the middle of the set, Tom took a short break to open his gifts. From Greg’s vantage point, it looked like a mini living room scene right there in the bar, which fit the mood of the day perfectly.
This was Tom’s first gig since turning fifty the week before, and that milestone was definitely in the back of his mind, as he reflected on his appreciation for family, life, and music.
We’ll be at Coal Creek Brewing Company in Princeton on Tuesday, July 21, from 5–7 PM.
Rams Riverhouse is starting to feel like our own little experiment in how many tiny things can go sideways before a show and still add up to a really good night.
Kewanee has one of those downtowns where you can still picture what it looked like a few decades ago just by walking a block or two. The Historical Society sits right in the middle of that, with the murals and old storefronts close by and the museum quietly holding all the details the sidewalks don’t show anymore.
Some Saturday nights are for squeezing into a crowded room and shouting over the music. This one at Tiny Acres is the opposite. It’s a work thing, a corporate night out, where people will probably be trying to finish a conversation they started in a meeting three months ago.
