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Get Up & Go
My cross-country journey to see Taylor Hanson perform at the Hotel Cafe began the way many trips do—with a sprint through DFW to catch a connection that started boarding when my first flight landed. I knew I was in trouble when the pilot announced that seven people might make their connections if everyone else stayed seated, then made each of us raise our hands to make sure the other passengers complied with letting us off first. Naturally, I was lucky number seven.
Once I cleared the jet bridge behind the other six passengers (who all exited at a bafflingly leisurely pace), I bolted towards the nearest Skylink. When I reached the escalator, I picked up my suitcase, ran up the stairs, and practically dove between the closing doors. A few stops later, I realized I had gotten on the train going the wrong direction, and what should have been a single stop to my destination turned into a 15-minute ride of shame around the entire airport. Rookie mistake.
So I did the only thing left to do and positioned myself in front of the doors so I could be the first one off to run down the escalator unimpeded. This strategy worked, and once again I lifted my suitcase by the carry handle and took off. About three stairs in, a loud thud prompted me to look down in horror as I watched my phone bounce off of a stair and proceed to pick up speed and fly down the escalator. A possibly illogical fear occurred to me in that moment: if I don't beat my phone down there, it's going to get sucked up into the gap at the bottom. I have no idea how I pulled it off, but I managed to outrun my flying phone, turn around to pick it up behind me, and do a full 180 spin back to a forward facing position, then jump off of a moving escalator with one step left to spare—all with a suitcase in hand. I know this sounds exaggerated, but somewhere in DFW there is security footage worthy of both laughter and applause. The best/worst part is I had my beloved new phone lanyard unattached in my pocket the entire time.
I ran the rest of the way and made it to my gate in time to join the end of boarding group six. I can only assume the other six passengers missed their flights based on lack of urgency, but maybe they made up for it by not killing 15 minutes on the wrong train.
The Part You Actually Came Here For
Like everyone else, I had no idea what to expect from this show. “Taylor Hanson and You,” the ticket page read. What did that even mean? I didn't know, but I knew I wanted to be there to witness such a special event in person rather than living vicariously through exaggerated secondhand speculation. More than that, I wanted to be there to support Taylor. And in a world where Taylor is putting on some mysterious tiny show called "Taylor Hanson and You," I'm casting myself in that collective "You" as quickly as I can throw money at a ticket.
Whether to your delight or disappointment, I’m not going to try to analyze this show in the larger context of whatever is happening with the band. Taylor didn’t provide any new answers, so I’m certainly not going to invent any. I showed up armed with Kleenex, unsure what I was signing up for but prepared for an emotional rollercoaster. Opening with “Tonight” did nothing to alleviate those concerns, but as the crowd began to sing along and Taylor appeared happily at home at the piano, I started to relax and feel more at home myself.
I'll drop the full setlist here before I continue for easy reference:
Following “Tonight” with “Kind of a Girl” was exactly the kind of musical whiplash I needed to take me out of that slightly somber territory and straight into just plain fun. It helped set the tone for an uncomplicated good time, and it felt like the elephant in the room subsided, maybe not completely gone, but harmlessly tapping his toes and shouting “whoah whoah” along with the rest of us.
Next came “Piano Man.” We’ve all known for decades that Taylor could properly rock this song if he ever chose to, and maybe he was always just waiting for the right moment. Hotel Cafe with its intimate size, tiny stage, and small but familiar crowd felt like the perfect context to bring it to life. And while there are multiple iconic lyrics that spoke to me throughout the song, the one that gave me an unexpected jolt of warm fuzzies was the simple opening line, delivered by Taylor with a grin, a quick glance around the room, and a slight tweak for accuracy:
"It's nine o'clock on a Friday, the regular crowd shuffles in."
He didn't make any obvious gestures to the crowd or look at anyone in particular, but I've never felt more like a "regular" despite having never set foot in the Hotel Cafe before. If you haven't seen it yet, hansongirl was kind enough to share a full video on instagram.
I promise I don't plan to gush about every single song in a row, but I can't skip "I've Been Down" because it was one of the most fun and energetic songs of the set. It's always a pleasant surprise on the rare occasions it resurfaces and everyone magically knows every word, but it has this strange ability to slip right back in to obscurity the moment it ends. It feels like a weirdly niche euphoric nostalgia trip to 2007 every single time I hear it.
In the interest of not writing a blog post that lasts longer than the actual show, I'll try to narrow down the rest to a few highlights:
-The crowd participation for "Great Divide," "Get Up And Go," and "Weird" was wild
-Turns out "Dancing In The Street" is a total banger as a piano solo
-So are "Voice in the Chorus" and "Get Up And Go," but we already knew as much from BTTI
Taylor truly outdid himself on "A Song To Sing" and seemed to be belting it out with maybe the most passion I've ever seen. It's the only song I recorded in full:
One thing I'll briefly mention is the TikTok clip I saw when I got home that garnered several concerned comments, and I just wanted to say that in person, it didn't feel that serious to me. The context is Taylor was in the middle of talking about the importance of music in all of our lives when someone shouted "MMMBop" and threw him off track. He quickly responded "MMMBop? Well, not tonight. Another time. I love that song, but not tonight." Then, after a beat, he added "Too soon, too soon." It felt like a light-hearted attempt to redirect the conversation back to what he was trying to say before he was interrupted, and I didn't take it as anything more than a sassy joke from a guy not entirely unaware of the state they've left us in.
Now a slightly more interesting moment that I haven't seen make its way onto social media? He asked if there were any fan club members present before playing a fan club song, and someone shouted back "So what's going on with that?" He replied "Hey, I'm just here for the music" and kept going, which felt like another lighthearted deflection. The overall vibe I got from both moments was that he can pat the elephant on the head and not completely ignore its presence, but he didn't sign up for the circus.
And if you want the full, anticlimactic context of the "too soon" comment, I recorded the whole thing without realizing it. You can also scroll to the bottom of this post for links to everything I've shared.
All We Need Is Music, Sweet Music
So what did this show feel like to me? I'm happy to report that I enjoyed this show for everything it was without stopping to worry about anything it wasn't. It felt like a room full of music lovers coming together to celebrate all of the best parts of live music and to “forget about life for a while” the best way we know how. Taylor seemed at ease and confidently in his element, and the energy in the room was infectious. He sounded as amazing as ever, and it felt like he poured so much of himself into every song. It was refreshing to witness and experience, and to borrow an apt lyric—it genuinely sounded like joy.
And if I had to share with you what this show felt like with zero words and just 39 seconds of video, this would be it. This is the vibe:
I may know little else at the moment, but one thing that's clear to me is that Taylor Hanson was born to create music, and no matter what else might change, that fact never will. I get the feeling that if he existed in a world without instruments, he'd be the guy banging rocks together for rhythm and paving the way for pianos to exist. And I'd still be the girl showing up hoping to get her rock signed. 🩷
(rock music pun totally unintended, but I can hardly leave it out now)
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