NRBQ at Levon Helm Studios, Woodstock; Friday, May 29 (First of two nights)

Boarding their flight from Los Angeles to JFK, Fred and Mary compared destinations with a stranger across the aisle. “We said we were headed to Woodstock,” Fred recalled. “Oh, you’re going to see NRBQ,” said plane neighbor Mark Rowland, a writer who’d profiled the ‘Q’ decades before in Musician magazine. “Seeing NRBQ play…for the first time is a little like sauntering into an amusement park with all-new rides,” Rowland wrote then. “You’re happy to be in on the discovery, and you’re having fun, but it’s still a little uncertain just what is going on.”

Other fans I met or re-met Friday at Levon Helm Studios flew from Atlanta, Seattle, Dallas, Omaha. Or they drove from Chicago, Boston, or across town, as John Sebastian did to guest on both Friday and Saturday shows, the beloved band’s first in weeks and last until August.

NRBQ fans may be dedicated as Deadheads. Super fan “Johnny D” D’Angelus followed them for a full summer as a teen and has seen them hundreds of times since. But they’re far fewer. Both shows sold out immediately, but the Levon Helm Studios hold only 250: 100 seats plus standing room for 150. It’s closer than intimate: Front row fans sit about a yard from the monitors; balconies stack tall in the timbered space.

Johnny D and friends

NRBQ Friday, from left: Terry Adams, Jake Edwards, John Sebastian, Casey McDonough, Klem Klimek, Scott Ligon; Gene Oliveri obscured behind Scott

Friday felt thrilling, spiced with scarcity, the tang of something much missed; but also raw at times, tentative and uncertain, like Rowland wrote. Saturday felt focused, sharp, soaring; as if Friday was practice, Saturday the pay off. Yet even if Saturday hadn’t happened, fans from far and near wouldn’t have complained.

When I bumped into John Sebastian just before show time Friday, I asked how much he’d play. “I don’t know,” he laughed. “I never know.” Uncertain, but ready, he went onstage right away as old friend, NRBQ co-founder, leader, keyboardist Terry Adams waved him to right join. He strapped on his baritone guitar and checked his harmonica case as bassist-singer Casey McDonough, guitarist-singer Scott Ligon, young new drummer Jake Edwards and saxophonists Klem Klimek and Gene Oliveri took up their instruments.

Terry Adams, above; John Sebastian, below

They bounced “That’s Neat, That’s Nice” as a jazzy hello, Scott singing lead and Terry taking the last solo after Klem, Scott and John – all compact statements without frills or fuss, drums signaling a stop-and-go coda. “Singin’ In the Rain” rolled at a similar upbeat tempo and feel, an agile strut, Oliveri taking his first yakkety bebop solo. Klem sang first in “You Got Me Going,” another happy rocker.

Klem Klimek, left; and Gene Oliveri

Klem wields the ‘Q’s biggest, most extraverted personality and strongest voice while workmanlike Scott’s rings the prettiest, perfect on ballads and happy numbers. Casey shows off both low-range grit and sky-high falsetto. As Terry told me when Casey joined a decade ago, his voice links beautifully with Scott’s; both sing in Chicago’s Flat Five group.

Casey McDonough, left; Scott Ligon, right

Friday, they sang tight on the joyous “End of the Road” and “Waitin’ On My Sweetie Pie” early on, then in both choruses and leads thereafter. Voices well worn, Terry and John left most leads to Scott, who once took over a tune mid-song when Terry’s voice faltered. John sang lead on his Lovin’ Spoonful classic “Did You Ever Have to Make Up Your Mind?” and his newer wistful “Passing Fantasy” on Friday; he chimed in happily in some bluesy guitar solos and the occasional harmonica break, and comped chords behind Scott’s skilled, often fiery breaks.

Terry Adams, left; and Jake Edwards

As usual, the show built in waves, both in the feelings powering the lyrics and the wonderfully wack mastery of many musical feels. Love songs worked because they felt sincere. “This Love Is True” and “Never Take the Place of You” expressed longing while “I Want You Bad” and “The One and Only” romped in romantic gladness.

As Johnny D rightly observed, years ago, “They make you feel young” – upbeat energy revving the comic “Wacky Tobacky” and “Get Down Grandpa,” the antiques “This Old House” and “The Music Goes ‘Round and Around” to end the set.

Quieter moods may be their most compelling, though. Adams’ soulful, understated piano gave the Monk classic “Ruby My Dear” a calm, sweet eloquence; his own “Tragic Magic” cruised on sci-fi weirdness and “Snowfall” mixed vintage melody with rock energy, updating this antique without bruising it.

On the quiet, nostalgic side, “Imaginary Radio” hailed Terry’s heroes in poignant words. He also revved up the comedy, leaving the piano to Casey and cautioning “Remember Your Name and Address” as if in a classroom.

The mood lightened then soared in the later songs, pulsating rockers “Magnet” and “Grandpa” setting up Clarence “Frogman” Henry’s funk shuffle “Ain’t Got No Home” with exciting Casey vocal and hot Scott guitar. That New Orleans mood bounced back to launch the encore with “Boozoo and Leona,” a happy zydeco chug. Monk’s “Well You Needn’t” held the mood, and momentum, through “Get Rhythm” to sign off.

Terry mostly chose the tunes early on, sometimes just starting up and trusting everybody to climb on board. He later looked around, accepting suggestions on the bandstand. Things flowed too smoothly for a rehearsal’s informality, with Klem quickly bringing newcomer Gene up to speed at each surprise. They blended well, both in section-like linked playing in harmony, soloing hot, or improvising parts together.

It all felt organic, made with fresh ingredients, as Terry has long described things. Tight parts crackled, loose stuff charmed in relaxed ways. The players all helped each other, listened and grinned. Fun reigned, and fans left wondering, in happy uncertainty, what surprises might happen Saturday.

Below, the song list on Terry Adams’s music stand; a menu more than a map. The actual set list is below this photo.