We’ve played Market Alley Wines a few times now, but this May 23rd show in Monmouth felt different the second we turned the corner onto the square. The city’s facelift on Market Alley, plus everything Abner’s and Market Alley Wines have done with the space, really shows. Curtains over the tables, people already settled in, glasses clinking—it actually made us say, “Whoa, this is the same alley?”
Dodging Rain and Trusting the Forecast
On the drive in, a light rain started hitting the windshield and we both had that, “uh oh…” feeling. By the time we got to Market Alley Wines, it was still a little iffy. Sarah, who always takes such good care of us, immediately offered a tent or the option to move inside. We checked the radar, looked at the sky, and decided to gamble on the outdoor setup. “We’ll trust it,” Tom said, probably more confidently than he felt.
The gamble paid off. The clouds hung around just enough to keep it in the mid-70s, and the rain stayed away. Every table was full before we started and stayed that way pretty much the whole show. For a live acoustic duo performance, that’s exactly what you want to see when you hit the first chord.
Requests, Near-Misses, and Desert Delirium
Even before we played a note, a guy came up and said if we could play “Take On Me,” he’d happily sing it. We honestly would have loved to hear that, but we had to admit we don’t know how to play it – at least not in a way that wouldn’t completely fall apart in front of a full alley.
Later in the night, someone asked for “A Horse With No Name” by America. Tom always thinks he knows that one. It’s just a handful of chords, but somehow they never land quite where they’re supposed to. By the time we got to the end, he said he felt like he’d actually been riding through the desert and was a little delirious. Fortunately, we followed it up with “Ventura Highway,” which is one of his absolute favorites and much more in our wheelhouse.
There was also a Pink Floyd request for “Wish You Were Here” in there somewhere. We’re still trying to remember who requested it, but whoever asked clearly had good taste.
New Songs, Sore Fingers, and Sticking to the Favorites
Leading up to this show, we’d been woodshedding a few new tunes we thought we might debut. Tom spent so long on one new chord shape that his pinky was actually sore going into the gig. I’d been hammering an organ part with my left hand way up the keyboard in an awkward position, and my wrist was feeling it too. We both rolled into Monmouth a little pre-injured, musician-style.
In the end, we decided not to roll out the new songs just yet. Honestly, they probably needed a bit more time in the oven. Instead, we leaned into our go-tos—the songs we know we can deliver even when fingers and wrists are complaining. We’ll probably break those new ones out at Tom’s parents’ anniversary show, where we can afford a wrong note or two in front of a very forgiving crowd.
Keith, His Mom, and “Piano Man”
The part of the night that stuck with us the most happened near the end of the show. We closed with “Piano Man,” and there was a man named Keith there with his mom. She’s a pianist who studied classical music but hasn’t been able to play as much lately, still dealing with some lingering COVID effects.
She was really moved by the song, and while we were talking afterward, Keith pulled out his phone, got on Amazon, and bought her the sheet music for “Piano Man” right there. He handed it to her (digitally, anyway) and said, “You can play this!”
We ended up talking about piano music, classical pieces, and even floated the idea of her joining us sometime on Eric Carmen’s “All By Myself,” which quotes Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2. She mentioned she struggles with piano because her hands are so small. I laughed and said, “Mine are small too,” and she didn’t really buy it until we literally held our hands up to compare. Turns out, our hands were the exact same size. I can’t remember the last time I measured hand size with someone, but it was pretty funny—and somehow a perfect way to end that conversation.
Keytars, TV Themes, and Taco Bell
As we were packing up, I picked up my 88-key keyboard to carry it out, and two young women walked by. Like a complete dad-joke machine, I pretended it was a keytar and started “shredding” on it as I walked. They were not impressed in the slightest, which honestly made it even better. I’ll be honest, at this point I’ve fully embraced being the old guy with zero shame.
Tom’s wife, Malissa (with an “a”), came along for this one, which made it feel more like a proper little road trip. On the way to Monmouth, we stopped in Galesburg so Tom could pick up his guitar from the music store after getting it repaired, then poked around at all the gear like we always do. By the time the show started, Malissa—who said she doesn’t drink wine that often—already had a glass in hand, which is exactly how to do a night at Market Alley Wines.
After the last chord rang out and the gear was loaded, we hit Taco Bell, as is tradition, and then spent the drive home listening to TV theme songs: “The A-Team,” “MacGyver,” “The Facts of Life,” and even “Manimal.” Don’t ask why we remember “Manimal.” We just do.
About Bell & Field:
We’re a piano-and-guitar acoustic duo that loves nights like this—where live music in Monmouth isn’t just background noise, but a reason for people to fill an alley, sing along, and maybe get inspired to dust off their own instruments again. Huge thanks to Sarah and everyone at Market Alley Wines, and to the city of Monmouth and Abner’s for turning that alley into a place where a crowd actually wants to hang out.
If you’re planning something and want this kind of live acoustic duo performance at your place or event, you can get in touch with us here: https://www.bellandfieldmusic.com/book-acoustic-duo/.
If you haven’t been to Treehouse Pub & Eatery, the name isn’t just clever branding. The back patio really does feel like someone built a multi-level wooden treehouse, then decided it needed a bar, a kitchen, and a lot of railings. There are string lights overhead, solid tables, and just enough elevation changes to make it feel like a backyard someone kept adding onto.
As the night went on, more people drifted back onto the patio, and the volume of the room climbed right along with them. We shifted gears and reached for the old rock & roll anchors: “Be-Bop-a-Lula” and “Great Balls of Fire.” Those two refuse to sit quietly in the background.
