The lineage of bands that helped (and continue to) make Omaha famous for indie music isn’t linear. It’s familial, for sure, which makes the line resemble something more like a woven rope. Last night’s Conor Oberst solo show at Krug Park cast a lariat around a bunch of the city’s most talented musicians. 

 

The concert may go down as one of the best-kept secrets in this typically loquacious arts scene, given that only about 20 people were in the bar an hour before opener Phil Schaffart (Con Dios) started around 9 p.m. By the time Oberst threw his leather strap over his shoulder and started strumming his Collings dreadnought, the narrow bar was at capacity and Krug’s staff had instated a one-in/one-out policy. 

 

For good reason, few people left. About 15 people stood and sat on the sidewalk outside, watching and, presumably, listening to Oberst play through the bar’s front window. If they could hear anything, they had a wonderful seat, immediately left of the makeshift floor stage on the bar’s north end. This was, after all, Oberst’s first Omaha-proper show since the 2010 Concert for Equality. He said he’d promised his friend and Krug co-owner Dustin Bushon that he’d play his bar when it opened. So here he was.

 

And he was surrounded by an impressive group of Omaha’s past and present music pioneers. Sitting on a stool on stage, wearing a straw cowboy hat and drinking red wine Oberst kept pouring into his glass was Simon Joyner, someone the Bright Eyes frontman calls one of his biggest influences. I kept waiting for Joyner to join Oberst for a song, but it never happened. I’m sure I wasn’t alone wishing for that. 

 

But Oberst had a formidable backing group as it was, with multi-instrumentalist Ben Brodin (McCarthy Trenching, The Mynabirds, Mal Madrigal), Orenda Fink (Azure Ray, O+S) on backup vocals and guitar, and violinist Kaitlyn Maria Filippini (who’s played in the last year with everyone from local DJs to The Answer Team to Manheim Steamroller). In the crowd, were members of The Faint, Cursive, new Team Love act Conduits, The Good Life, Dim Light, and on and on. 

 

Oberst played for just under 90 minutes, including songs like “Cape Canaveral” from his 2008 solo album, “Classic Cars” (about a “sugar mama”) from 2007’s Bright Eyes record Cassadega and the song that turned into a giant singalong,“Make War,” from 2002’s Lifted or The Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground. 

 

As crowd members shuffled from foot to foot, afraid to move for fear of losing the best standing position they’d secured, Oberst closed the show at about 11:30 p.m. with “Waste of Paint” from Lifted … When he forgot the final verse, someone sitting up front helped him out and he finished, shouting the final lines, “I have no faith, but it is all I want, to be loved and believe in my soul, in my soul, in my soul…”

 

It was the kind of show that can’t be recreated. And whether or not you were lucky enough to have been there, it’s the kind of intimate, one-off performance that illustrates why living in Omaha — and Nebraska — is truly special. 

 

These things happen here.

Andrew Norman is Hear Nebraska's editor. Daniel Muller is a photo contributor to Hear Nebraska. They work by day from DP Muller Photography Studio in the heart of Benson. Bring them coffee and gluten-free donuts whenever you have a chance.