Tuggers has snuck up on us and turned into one of our favorite places to play. Kicking off their Pon-Tunes series on the patio, with the Mississippi right there and that late-May weather in the sweet spot (warm, but not swampy) felt like exactly where a piano-guitar duo should be on a Saturday night.
Full tables, family in the crowd, and an Ice Jam Old Fashioned
By the time we started, the place was already moving with a nice crowd to play to outdoors. Tom’s family made the drive up again, rolling in from a day of golfing and then hanging out by the river playing games on the patio before we even plugged in. Having family there always changes the feel of the night a little—in a good way. It’s like there’s a built-in cheering section that also knows when you’ve flubbed a lyric.
Tuggers just does things with care. The menu is way better than it has any right to be for a place that hosts live music in Port Byron, and the drinks are fun without being weird-for-the-sake-of-weird. Tom’s go-to is the Ice Jam Old Fashioned. He’ll tell you, “It’s perfect,” and you can tell he’s not just saying that because he likes bourbon.
Starting with Croce and sneaking in the new stuff
We kicked things off with “You Don’t Mess Around with Jim.” That Jim Croce groove is such an easy way to get toes tapping and heads turning, especially at a place like Tuggers where people are mid-dinner and deciding whether they’re going to actually listen or just talk over the band. That song usually tips a few tables our way.
We’ve been pushing ourselves to keep adding new material instead of just coasting on the songs we’ve played hundreds of times. So we worked in a batch of tunes we’ve been woodshedding lately:
- “Borderline” (yes, Madonna)
- “Run for the Roses”
- “Walk of Life”
- “Because” (Dave Clark Five)
- “Sundown”
- “No Matter What” (Badfinger)
We didn’t get a rehearsal in between shows, so I’m sure we repeated a few of the same little mistakes from the night before—just with more confidence. Honestly, that’s part of the process. Getting comfortable enough to stop worrying and just play usually tightens things up faster than another run-through in a basement.
Back-to-back shows, one very loud sneeze, and stage-light bugs
This show came right on the heels of another one, so I knew I might not be at 100%. But honestly, once we were set up, the night had a great feel to it.
And then came one of those live-performance moments you cannot really plan for. I had a huge cough mid-song that blasted through the mic with these wild overtones and reverb. Embarrassing enough. Then, in the very next song, I unleashed a truly monstrous sneeze. I actually screamed when it hit. It was loud, obnoxious, and not exactly the kind of “live acoustic duo performance” moment you dream about.
I am just grateful nothing visible flew out of my nose. I remember thinking, “So this is the old man I am becoming. Noted.”
Hopefully that was a one-off.
I brought an insect diffuser since we were playing outdoors, and set it near the piano. It worked beautifully for the first two hours. Then the wick ran out near the end of the night, and it was like someone flipped a switch for every bug in Port Byron to come party in the stage lights. Tom and I both recounted stories from our pasts where we had swallowed bugs while singing. The effect of those blue lights on the river was worth it though.
Requests we knew, and one we’d never even heard of
It wouldn’t be a Bell & Field night without some requests. Most of them were in our wheelhouse, but one person asked for “And We Danced” by The Hooters. Neither of us had ever even heard the song before. But we promised we’d check it out, and who knows—maybe that’ll show up on a future Tuggers setlist. That’s one thing we love about this place: people are actually listening closely enough to throw specific songs at us.

Walking in Memphis, twenty extra dollars, and the right way to end
By the end of the night, Greg was pretty drained and hanging on by a thread, but Tom still had plenty left in the tank. Greg sang “Walking In Memphis” It landed really well—one of those songs that pulls the room together for a few minutes, whether people know us or not.
We wrapped up, said our thank-yous, and started the mental process of shutting things down when a woman came up from a table, handed us $20, and said, “Surely you can play one more.” Well, yes. Yes, we can.
So we closed things out with “Piano Man” and “American Girl,” which turned out to be the right way to finish a full, breezy night on the river. Sometimes the last two songs are decided by a setlist; this time they were decided by a twenty and a very polite insistence.
Cabernet, long drives, and Bell & Field 2.0

The drive home from Port Byron is pretty empty—no fast food, not much of anything, really. I was supposed to be up early the next morning to help Tom put up Levitt Amp concert signs around Galva, but he’d already been up at an extra early hour for church, so he took the 6am shift and let me rest after two nights of playing.
Somewhere in all of this, I decided I’m done drinking at shows. It’s not a dramatic story; it’s just become clear that even a couple drinks wreck my voice the next day, and I want to see what happens if I take the music a bit more seriously from that angle. I’ll still have the occasional drink at dinner on an off night, but not while performing. When I told Tom, he said he’d been thinking the same thing. We’ve thoroughly enjoyed our Cabernet era, but it feels like time for Bell & Field 2.0—same songs, same bad jokes, just with water on stage instead.
We’ll be back on the river soon
Tuggers has quickly become one of those rooms we circle on the calendar. Thoughtful staff, great food, that river view, and a crowd that’s actually into the music—that’s pretty much the ideal combination for Tuggers entertainment and for us as a live acoustic duo.
We’ll be back on June 21st for more Pon-Tunes and, hopefully, fewer sneezes and mosquitoes.
If you’re curious what Bell & Field could bring to your own patio, restaurant, or event, you can reach out to us here: https://www.bellandfieldmusic.com/book-acoustic-duo/.


We’re excited to be part of a special summer evening at Valley View Club in Cambridge on July 3.



We rolled back into Crescent City Tap on one of those bitter cold January nights where you question all your life choices while you’re loading gear. We’ve played this room a bunch of times now. It wasn’t packed like some of the past shows, but we also knew the folks who did come out would really be there to listen and have a good time with us.
One of Greg’s favorite moments of the night had nothing to do with the set list. Between songs he turned to me and asked, “So what are you feeling?” meaning, what should we play next. My mom was in the audience and immediately perked up: “Did you just ask him how he’s feeling? Why, is he sick?”


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.
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.”
This past Saturday we hauled the piano, guitar, and sax down to Central Blvd in Kewanee, IL, for a Hog Days Pre-Parade Celebration at a private home right on the route. It was one of those late-summer afternoons where the sun is warm but not punishing, and you can hear the buzz of the parade crowd starting to build in the distance.
One of the best surprises of the day was when local musician Marshall Jones jumped in with us. He came up to sing “It’s Probably Me” by Sting, and it instantly felt like we’d rehearsed it, even though we absolutely hadn’t. That’s the fun part of these neighborhood-style shows—someone you know from around town steps up and suddenly you’ve got a new version of the band for a song.