Whoops of Joy with Jesse Welles
Photos by Steve Satzberg
Words by Diana Guillermo
Only Jesse Welles could start a concert off with old-timey acoustic country music, lead the audience through a crashingly emotive rendition of metal anthems, end the night by singing to kids about turtles, and do it all so seamlessly that it seemed like a natural progression.
Up ’til now I’ve only been familiar with the music he’s published recently on streaming platforms – a folksy throwback style that uses old gospel-type music to highlight current events – so I was pleased but puzzled to learn that the concert had completely sold out at 9:30 Club.
I claimed a spot on the upper balcony between an eight-year-old swimming in a Jesse Welles T-shirt big enough to be her nightgown and an octogenarian trucker wearing a black baseball cap with the word “DEFIANCE” blazed across the front. With so many people packed in, at times I had to crouch down to peek between people’s knees to keep my eyes on the stage – but it was worth it to witness his musical talent. From that mellow boom-chicka I’d been expecting to virtuosic solos that should have shredded his acoustic guitar into sawdust, Welles maintained a solid thread of biting social satire as he led the audience effortlessly from one side of the musical spectrum to the other and back again.
On March 1, SG Goodman opened the night with a gripping performance including songs from her album “Planting by the Signs.” Capturing our attention from the get-go with moody blue lighting and an atmospheric droning chant loop, her band suddenly crashed to life on stage with “Satellite,” pairing grunged-up Americana with a deep throbbing bass. “Snapping Turtle” and “I Can See the Devil” veered between bluegrass and edgier tones that reminded me of early Sheryl Crow, while the sweet simplicity of “I’m in Love” contrasted beautifully with the scrappiness of “The Way I Talk.” In each song the searing honesty of her lyrics and the authenticity of her vocals ricocheted through howling guitar riffs, coalescing above slow, throbbing bass I could feel resonating through my chest. I haven’t heard Goodman’s music before, but I immediately texted several of my outlaw-country-fan friends a heads up to check her out.
Watch the official music video for “How I Talk” by SG Goodman on YouTube:
As a perfect segue between performers, Goodman ended her set with a nod toward the political via a haunting acapella rendition of “Which Side Are You On,” which showcased the raw, emotive qualities of her voice beautifully. The audience, spellbound, sang softly along with the last chorus. “Wow,” I breathed to the woman on my right. “So poignant,” she agreed, nodding back.
Then came Jesse Welles. Unadorned. Understated. Just him in his signature mullet with an acoustic guitar on a dark stage under a single spotlight. From his first appearance, Welles delivered a performance humble in its simplicity but rich with nuance and skill. His folksy, Woody-Guthrie-like originals “Sometimes You Bomb Iran” and “Great Caucasian God” had the crowd laughing and relaxed, swaying back and forth and cheering at the sweet harmonica solos, while songs like “Join ICE” and “United Health” showed sharp teeth hidden beneath the familiarity of honky tonk nostalgia. Welles is most recently known for creating songs that sound like the love child of gospel and Hamilton – cheery old-timey sound paired with cutting political lyrics. “If you’re lackin’ control and authority/ Come with me and hunt down minorities/Join ICE,” he sang. The show should have been depressing due to subject matter alone, but Welles easily kept the audience laughing and bouncing along. “Walmart” had someone shouting out “F*** Walmart!” so loud that Welles laughed and almost stumbled, but recovered without missing a beat.
The mood edged from lighthearted to raw with the introduction of “The Poor.” “If you worked a little harder/ Then you’d have a lot more/ So, the blame and the shame’s on you/ For being so damn poor,” Welles sang in his hoarse drawl. “F*** the billionaires!” people began to shout, until the thunderous BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! of a sudden driving beat shifted the crowd from anger to excitement. The stage lit up all at once, bright as a circus, to reveal four other musicians with him (including a pianist who later, during a brilliant solo, simultaneously played an electric keyboard with his right hand and a baby grand with his left) in front of the largest American flag I have ever seen. In a moment that could have edged towards bitterness, Welles rallied the audience into whoops of joy.
Watch Jesse Welles perform “The Poor” live on YouTube:
The evening surged from nostalgia to a fierce concert that never forgot its Americana roots even while flaunting searing, heavy rock beats. People shrieked with approval during “Red” as he crowed: “I got some red pills in a bottle/ I got black and blue ones too /All the pills are all the same/ The illusion is you choose.”
“He looks like an extra from Roadhouse, but he plays like a f***ing prodigy,” my husband shouted as Welles ripped out another jaw-dropping solo. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal to do on an acoustic guitar.”
The simple but effective lighting changes and pulsing, insistent drums had the crowd’s energy rising to a crescendo with “Masks Off.” “All the masks are off / And they don’t even try / They know that you know that they know / And they don’t even mind it,” he sang, and the audience roared with furious approval.
Even after closing with mellower songs, including a singalong rendition of “Have you ever seen the rain,” the crowd hadn’t had enough. The lights went out, but the 9:30 Club echoed with a chant of “JESSE! JESSE! JESSE!”
Welles made us wait, but it was worth it. Returning solo to the intimacy of a dark stage and single spotlight with which he’d opened his performance, he gave us a generous encore of personal, gentle songs. “Are there any kiddos out there?” he asked. “I thought I saw some kiddos.” The 8 year old next to me clung to the balcony railing, grinning from ear to ear and singing along as Welles seemed to play “I like bugs” and “Turtles” just for her. “Play all night, if you want!” someone hollered, but Welles just laughed. Closing the night with a simple rendition of his touching and iconic “War Isn’t Murder,” he raised his hand in a peace sign. “I’ll see you,” he called out. The entire audience raised their hands in return, whooping and stomping, and Welles left the stage just as humbly as he’d come on.
Here are some photos of Jesse Welles performing live at 9:30 Club on March 1, 2026. All pictures copyright and courtesy of Steve Satzberg.
Here are some photos of SG Goodman opening Jesse Welles at 9:30 Club on March 1, 2026. All pictures copyright and courtesy of Steve Satzberg.
