The Southwest Voice

It’s inviting.  

The new Bright House Networks Amphitheater at River Walk seems to rise from the dusty Southwest Bakersfield landscape like a glistening mirage in the Mojave desert. With cool water surrounding the arena and freshly mowed grassy knolls, the amphitheater’s lofty scaffolding dome stands as a tall and majestic ambassador to our fair city. 

On Aug. 10, it welcomed country music sensation Lonestar to help christen its concert stage.

Lonestar would be the first major record label artist to perform there, so they were guinea pigs of a sort.

Would security be enough? Check! (More on that later). Would the lighting be sufficient, and would the sound reverberate richly or more like pennies rattling in a tin can? Most importantly, would big-name artists want to return?

Maybe. If they didn’t mind hopping around on the stage like sausage links on a hot griddle.

I arrived early to soundcheck and noticed immediately that the heat was almost unbearable. If there’s one thing a Bakersfield native can handle, it’s quickly rising temperatures, but having that day returned from a week-long stint in Long Beach, the intense afternoon sun made me feel as if I’d somehow missed the I-710 to I-5 transition and took the diamond lane to Hades, instead.

The heat melted equipment. Fred, Lonestar’s stage manager, wore a dumbfounded expression as he pointed to warped road cases and diaphoretic technicians. 

Michael Kersh, one of the group’s three bus drivers, said that by 10 a.m., his foursome was dragging like limp, wet rags and could barely finish a round at RiverLakes Golf Course.

Keech, Lonestar’s drummer, invited me into the air-conditioned production room for a bottle of cold water. When he opened the door, 12 people were crowded inside an office the size of a handicap bathroom stall.

Sure, it was a little warm, but think how bad it could have been. In mid-July, outdoor activities were limited to quick walks between home and car, car and work. Did anyone get their mail? Swimming pools were oversized bathtubs. 

We were breathing outdoors with the ease of people inside a 400-degree oven. Even dogs seemed to sweat. 

The high on Aug. 10 was a mild 100 degrees, but to our Nashville guests who weren’t acclimated to the stifling heat of the San Joaquin Valley, it was agony.

To their credit, they didn’t complain much. How could they? Two days later they would be cooking in 110-degree Las Vegas, where their evening in Bakersfield would seem a distant tropical memory.

By show time, thankfully, temperatures dropped and made way for another beautiful Bakersfield evening. The amphitheater appeared filled to capacity, but one of the band members reported that there were 1,000 unsold seats.

Where? In the lagoon?

Speaking of the unpretentious little body of water that meanders around the stage, I asked members of Lonestar what they thought of the aesthetically pleasing atmosphere of Southwest Bakersfield’s crown jewel. 

“It looks good, but our fans can’t get close to us,” bassist Robbie Cheuvront answered. “We feed off of their energy, and it’s hard to get energized when people are so far away,” he added.

In a number of venues, fans are allowed to push up against the stage and are, in fact, encouraged to leave their seats, unlike at the Bright House Amphitheater, where a moat the width of a Sherman tank separates the stage from the first row of fans. 

When lead guitar player Michael Britt noticed the water barrier, he agreed with other band members. It was pretty, but it would not allow them to connect with their fans.

“(The moat) takes away a lot of Richie’s show,” he added.

He was referring to front man Richie McDonald, whose reputation to nab the cameras of nearby fans and snap close pictures of the band during their set has become a part of Lonestar’s act. Fans love it and have been known to toss cameras onstage during the show.

At the Bright House Amphitheater, cameras would have to be launched through the air like ballistic missiles. It didn’t happen. 

There would be no onstage marriage proposals during the song “Amazed,” either.

If the setting didn’t discourage concert-goers from standing and “feeding” the band’s energy, the venue’s security was diligent in quashing the excitement of anyone bold enough to leave their seat.

Can you imagine AC/DC fans clapping mildly from white folding chairs?

Wet blanket aside, the industrious event staff does deserve a tip of the hat.  Not only did the sound and lighting work faultlessly, but security procedures made it impossible to be near the band without proper credentials. Staffers were pleasant, efficient, and they ensured the safety of the fans, stage crew and band while making major concerts at the Bright House Networks Amphitheater seem effortless — like we were veterans at hosting Grammy-nominated artists in Bakersfield’s newest venue.

In spite of the heat and the medieval military fortification around the stage, the concert was a success for the fans and band members alike. 

By the encore, fans had pushed forward and were behaving more in the manner one would expect at an energetic outdoor show. The music was loud, and the fans were screaming, dancing, and sharing their energy with the band.

To the people sitting sedately in the folding white chairs, I apologize. You may have expected that your $55 ticket would ensure you a seat in a venue as stately and decorous as the Grand Ole Opry. This wasn’t it. 

Lonestar hopes you enjoyed it, anyway. Because they sure enjoyed you, Bakersfield.