To hear John Craigie tell it, his shows would last only eight minutes if he didn’t banter between songs. 

He does talk; Craigie also exaggerates. And this comment seemed as much a nod to obvious influence Todd Snider and his famous 18-minutes rap as it is part of the standup-worthy commentary that sits alongside a wide range of quality folk songs in Craigie’s touring quiver. 

So it transpired that Craigie regaled a wildly enthusiastic audience gathered Oct. 11 inside Columbus, Ohio’s, A & R Music Bar with tales of his recent Europe and Australia tours and U.S. festival dates. These were stories of shy Norwegians crammed into a rickety balcony while the floor remained empty; of French concertgoers trying to figure out if Craigie was a happy or sad American cowboy; of koalas – “but only the hot ones” – with chlamydia, Craigie said in recalling a gag that bombed Down Under; and of a loquacious singer/songwriter of Craigie’s general built who finds talking to festivalgoers and fellow musicians terrifying. 

“I’m nervous to be alive,” he said. 

And there were plenty songs of boot, with “I am California” capping the 85-minute set with Craigie, opener Tré Burt and a couple hundred Ohioans singing reverently about the Golden State:

“So drink all my wine/cut all my trees/make love on my beaches/smoke all my weed/I am California/can’t you see?/wherever you roam/you’ll always want me.” 

A beautiful conclusion to a solo-acoustic road trip across Craigie and Burt’s songbooks. 

Burt, one of last artists signed to Oh Boy Records before John Prine’s death, offered up 30 minutes of such introspective songs as “Know Your Demons” and “Sweet Misery” on his “git-box” and harmonica and delivered them in a raspy, but sonorous, emotionally charged singing voice. But Burt was flummoxed when he realized he forgot to play songs from Traffic Fiction, the album he is supposed to be promoting. 

“Fuck,” he said before exiting the stage with the beer he’d received from a fan. 

“That’s why you write a set list.”

Craigie didn’t seem to have a list either, letting his stories and the audience’s reaction set the pace. 

Eyes closed and voice wailing, Craigie bashed out loud chords on “Part Wolf.” “Resurrection Bay” was quietly romantic, as was the hilarious “Mallory,” about befriending a deaf woman who attended a house show with another who fell asleep and together comprised the entire audience. The latter also featured a hearty “Young Americans” singalong on the outro. 

“I Wrote Mr. Tambourine Man” mixed comedy and solemnity and “Laurie Rolled Me a J” found Craigie blowing a harp, adding fresh lyrics with an emphatic fuck you for J.D. Vance and making the audience go bonkers as it had all evening. 

“I’m telling the agents – we gotta go back to Columbus,” he said after skipping the city for more than a decade. 

And that might’ve been the best talking point of all.