I arrived at xBk Live exhausted and carrying a little more apprehension than usual. Igor and I had split our commitments for the evening: he was running an open stage night at Mickey’s Irish Pub in Waukee while I covered Jesse Roper on my own. For some reason, the thought of handling the whole show solo had gotten into my head. Taking notes, taking photographs, making sure I caught what I needed — I was looking forward to the music, but I was also thinking about the work.
Then I walked through the door.
There were staff members I know and love, familiar faces in the audience and people I would get to know before the night was over. My reservations disappeared almost immediately. I might have come without my usual partner, but being at xBk didn’t feel particularly lonely.
By the time Jesse finished, exhaustion would be a distant memory. Getting to sleep afterward turned out to be the harder assignment.
Familiar faces, pointed words
Ducharme-Jones started right on time at 7 p.m., with 27 people in the audience by my count. The Des Moines band centers on husband-and-wife songwriters Dave and Anne Ducharme-Jones, whose years in California and Austin preceded their return to Iowa. Dave handles lead guitar and vocals, Anne plays rhythm guitar and sings, with Ben Mars on bass and background vocals and Jim Stevens on drums and percussion. Their shared history reaches well beyond their current hometown. Ducharme-Jones
Their relationship with this particular room runs deep, too. Their 2023 album Ducharme-Jones Live from Dogtown was recorded across multiple xBk performances between March 2022 and April 2023. They have already preserved a piece of what happens here, which made their presence on this bill feel especially fitting. Ducharme-Jones
The set included “My Soul and You”, a song that also appears on their latest album, lumina. The band describes it as a ballad about connection, while another selection from the same record, “(F)orget U”, concerns the disappointment that can follow when a relationship goes wrong. On this Wednesday, the introduction gave the latter a pointed additional association. Ducharme-Jones
During a discussion of early voting, they repeatedly referred to “there’s somebody we don’t want to think about anymore”. I took the tactful wording as a reference to Trump. They left the name unspoken, then moved into “(F)orget U,” letting a catchy song follow the suggestion.
It was a memorable bit of stage conversation because of that restraint. The implication was easy enough to catch without becoming an extended speech, and the music carried on.
Ducharme-Jones would stay for Jesse’s performance after finishing their own. Later, I noticed Anne taking photos and video, and the band members looked noticeably impressed by what they were watching. Having already seen them onstage, it was fun to find them sharing the audience’s side of the evening.
Please consider Donating to Sponsor an article even $1 helps!
Flowers under changing lights
Jesse Roper started at 8:05 p.m. By then, I counted 41 people.
The lighting was minimal: orange and green, then blue and yellow. One detail that caught my eye was Jesse’s guitar strap, decorated with red and purple flowers. The other guitarist and bassist wore plain black straps. I couldn’t tell whether the contrast was deliberate, but it made his floral strap stand out all the more. Even before getting into the playing, there was something pleasing about that small patch of color against the simpler straps beside him.
Then there was the matter of keeping up with him.
Jesse smiled broadly, bounced and kept moving. His physical enthusiasm was constant enough that “never stopped moving” made it into my notes. That can sound like a broad description until you spend a set watching somebody whose enjoyment is so visible. There was no need to guess whether he wanted to be up there.
His first song was “Journey Man”, from his 2015 album Red Bird. By the third song, he was into “Make It All Work Out,” bringing a more recent part of his catalog into the evening. Those selections alone reached across years of recording, though keeping track of release dates was hardly what held my attention in the room. I was watching the man playing them. jesseroper.ca
The Victoria, British Columbia artist works across blues, Americana and soul, with guitar playing central to his performances. His booking biography also describes serious stage fright earlier in his life. Watching him at xBk, that history was difficult to picture. The movement, the enormous smiles and his ease with the audience gave little outward indication of someone who had once struggled to get onstage. Crossover Touring
I had arrived with my own much smaller set of nerves, so I appreciated that detail. There is something encouraging about seeing a performer so comfortable doing something that once frightened him. I wouldn’t presume to know what goes through Jesse’s head before a show. I can only say that what reached us looked joyful.
And joy is difficult to resist when it is standing that close, guitar in hand.
A request worth shouting
“The Hurricane’s Eye” drew what may have been the biggest reaction of the night. I hesitate to award a definitive winner because I wasn’t measuring applause, but it stood out enough that I marked it while taking notes. In a room this size, you can register a response without needing thousands of voices behind it.
Jesse also talked about seeing Metallica when he was younger and the mosh pits he remembered from those concerts. At a more recent Metallica show, he had enjoyed fighting his way toward the front, only to discover a very different scene when he got there: people standing with their cellphones, with no mosh pit in sight.
His disbelief was the entertaining part. He had gone looking for the kind of physical participation he associated with those earlier shows and found an audience holding up screens instead.
I was there with a camera myself, so I can hardly pretend that documenting a concert is foreign territory. But listening to him describe the difference, then watching how much of himself he put into his own performance, made the story fit. Jesse gave us plenty to photograph. He also made it awfully tempting to forget the equipment for a moment and simply enjoy being there.
That willingness to participate came through when people called out “Cool Whip.” He played it, and members of the audience sang along.
It was one of my favorite exchanges of the evening: a shouted request, a response from the stage and people who knew the song joining in. With the crowd still relatively small, those voices felt individual and close. You could recognize the enthusiasm behind the request and then hear it continue once the song began.
There were other details I wanted to hold onto. “Yomalady” made it into my notes, as did Jesse’s use of a slide during the set. So did those recurring smiles. The technical details and song titles were part of what I needed to record, but his expression kept demanding its own attention.
Meanwhile, I was still hoping to hear “Cherry” and “Access to Infinity.” Both belong to his 2018 album Access to Infinity, and they were the personal wish-list songs running through my head as the evening continued. That is one of the pleasures — and occasional distractions — of covering an artist whose music you already love. You’re listening to what is happening while quietly anticipating what might come next. jesseroper.ca
By 9 p.m., I counted 51 people. Those were my own snapshots of the audience rather than official attendance figures, but the progression was noticeable: 27 during Ducharme-Jones, 41 when Jesse began and 51 later in his set.
I kept looking at the stage and thinking that more people should be seeing this. His performance deserved a larger audience. Still, I was grateful to be among the people who had made it into this room on a Wednesday night.
The change in my own state was striking. Earlier, I had been utterly exhausted. Now I felt high on life, watching a musician I admire perform with an enthusiasm that seemed to keep replenishing itself. I found Jesse mesmerizing, and the longer I watched him smile and move through the set, the harder it became to imagine hanging onto a bad mood.
That is a personal response, certainly. It is also the most honest account I can give of what his performance did for me.
A few minutes at the merch booth
After the show, I had a chance to speak with Jesse. He needed to get to his merch booth, so he invited me behind it with him. We had a short, sweet conversation while he sold shirts and other merchandise.
There was no lengthy interview or grand revelation. I was simply happy to have a few minutes with someone whose music I love and respect. After watching him perform, getting to talk while he handled the ordinary business of selling merchandise felt like a lovely way to finish the evening.
I made sure to grab a quick selfie before leaving.
The encounter stayed with me alongside the performance. I had come in worried about covering everything myself, then found familiar people, made new friends and ended the night chatting with Jesse behind his merch table. The evening had become much easier to inhabit than I had expected while thinking through it beforehand.
As I write this, I’m still waiting for Igor to finish editing my photographs. I’m hopeful about what I captured. Jesse gave me plenty to work with: movement, those huge smiles and a floral guitar strap I kept noticing beneath the changing lights. With someone that photogenic, I had to have caught a few good ones.
For now, I’m enjoying the anticipation of seeing them.
Afterglow
Leaving xBk, my mind felt sharp and I was wide awake. The fatigue I had brought through the door had given way to thoughts of the performance, the people I had spent the evening with and those few minutes talking with Jesse afterward.
I felt blessed to have had the opportunity. Covering a show means paying attention, keeping track and making sure you can tell its story afterward. Sometimes, somewhere in the middle of doing that work, the music gives you something you hadn’t realized you needed.
I had worried about handling the night on my own. By the end, I was grateful I had been there at all.
Then I went home and tried to sleep.
Jesse Roper had made that considerably more difficult.
Please consider Donating to Sponsor an article even $1 helps!
