Lincoln, couches, and a Christmas party next door
Walking back into Copper & Oak in Lincoln felt a little like visiting a place you already know you’re going to enjoy. It was my second time playing there, but the first time as Bell & Field, and I’d been looking forward to it all week.
The room is spread out in a way that actually makes sense for a live acoustic duo performance—little lounge pockets of couches and chairs tucked in around the tables, so people can settle in with their drinks and still see and hear us. There’s just enough natural reverb that the piano and guitar feel full without us having to push too hard.
While we played, there was a Christmas party going on in the private room, so people were drifting in and out—sparkly outfits, ugly sweaters, the whole range—grabbing a drink, catching a song or two, then disappearing back behind the door. It made the night feel like we were soundtracking a bunch of overlapping stories instead of just one crowd sitting still for three hours.
New songs, old favorites, and one truly awkward cough
We came in relaxed enough that we felt good about trying some newer additions to the set. Our debut of “Come Together” was one of the highlights for us. There’s a point where a song finally stops being “the one we’ve been rehearsing” and becomes “the one we actually play,” and that switch only flips in front of people. Lincoln got that moment.
“Round Here” landed really well with a table of women who were clearly out celebrating the season. You could see the recognition hit during the first verse, and by the chorus they were fully locked in. Tom also took a solo turn on “Harvest Moon” later in the night, and the room got noticeably quieter in that way that tells you folks are actually listening, not just politely clapping at the end.
Not everything was smooth, though. During “Great Balls of Fire,” I could feel a cough building during the last stretch of the song. I tried to fight it off, which was a mistake. When it finally came out, it turned into this ridiculous, very visible spray right onto myself. Easily the least rock-and-roll “special effect” I’ve ever produced. I had to take a moment after the song ended and laugh it off and thendo my best to forget it ever happened. I’ll be honest, that’s the kind of thing that keeps you humble.
Deadheads, stories, and a gracious crowd
One of the fun parts of Copper & Oak is the mix of people. We had folks comparing tasting notes on bourbon flights, others just clocking out from the week with a craft beer, and a few who were clearly there for the music first.
We met some fellow Deadheads who were eager for more Grateful Dead tunes and tossed a few requests our way. Between sets and after the show, we ended up in a bunch of great conversations—swapping stories about concerts people had seen decades ago, favorite records, and the songs they hadn’t heard live in ages. Those chats are a big part of why we like doing live music in Lincoln and towns like it; you don’t just play at people, you actually get to talk to them.
Several folks asked for cards or snapped pictures of the QR code on the piano shell. One couple stuck around to talk about having us play their wedding reception in March, which we’re hoping lines up, and even one of the bartenders came over at the end of the night with a really kind compliment about how the music fit the room. That kind of feedback means a lot to us—Tom and I have a good time no matter what the crowd is like, but when people go out of their way to say something, it hits a little deeper.
Cabernet, thin crust, and the ride home
After we wrapped up and started packing, the night didn’t just end with us coiling cables in silence. A couple who’d been listening for most of the evening bought us each a glass of Cabernet as a thank you, which turned into more conversation as the room slowly thinned out.
The owners at Copper & Oak were exactly the kind of hosts you hope for when you pull into a new town for a gig—easygoing, attentive, and clearly proud of what they’ve built. Before we left, they surprised us with a freshly made thin crust pizza to take on the road. We ate it in the car on the way home, still half-talking about the show, the stories people shared, and which new songs we want to roll out next time we’re back.
I just can’t say enough about how fun this one was. Between the Christmas party drifting in and out, the Deadhead requests, the “Come Together” debut, and even the ill-timed cough, it felt like a very human, very real Bell & Field night at Copper & Oak.
Want something like this at your place?
If you’re putting together a wedding, a private party, or you run a spot that could use a live acoustic duo in the mix, we’d love to talk about it. You can find details and reach out to us here: https://www.bellandfieldmusic.com/book-acoustic-duo/.
Copper & Oak really fits what I love about playing live. It’s got that worn-in, wood-and-brick kind of look, shelves lined with more bourbons and craft beers than I could ever hope to try, and a staff that actually seems to enjoy the music instead of just tolerating it.
When I kicked into “Piano Man,” I had one of those classic musician moments: I reached for the harmonica that…was sitting at home on a different table entirely. I had forgotten it. But honestly, it didn’t throw things off. People were singing along, clapping, and the piano carried the song just fine on its own.
We’re an acoustic duo that plays the songs we grew up on: ’60s, ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s favorites that people actually know the words to. We keep the setup simple-guitar, piano, and two voices-and let the songs carry the weight.
Copper & Oak sits in the new Route 66 Plaza in historic downtown Lincoln, and it feels like it was put together by people who really care about what they pour. There are shelves of bourbon and whiskey behind the bar, over 21 craft beers on tap, and a speakeasy-style room that makes you want to stay for “just one more.”
