Clearwater’s gray skies were no match for O.A.R.’s sunny Ruth Eckerd Hall show

The first time I listened to O.A.R. was illegally. The year was 2010; I had discovered the almighty power of torrenting, and with this newfound ability I made the decision to max out my iPod. I filled it with all kinds of jams, ranging from classical to the newest metalcore album, but O.A.R. didn’t arrive until I stumbled upon a torrent with the likes of 311, The Expendables and others. Somewhere buried deep within that folder was O.A.R’s live album Rain or Shine, and sooner or later a song from the album came up on the good ol’ shuffle list. It wouldn’t be the last time. In fact, I remember seeking out the whole album, listening to it in its entirety and coming away with one thought: These guys know how to put one hell of a show.

Fast forward eight years, and I found myself sitting outside Ruth Eckerd Hall waiting to see O.A.R. To say it was surreal would be inaccurate, and in a sense it was underwhelming. The sky above was gray and just waiting to drench the Florida soil with an evening shower. Once inside, I leisurely strolled to my seat and got ready for the opening act. The New Respects put on powerful set marked by snappy, rebellious guitar chords with a hint of blues tucked somewhere between it all. The Nashville natives popped things off promptly and quickly with a 30-minute set, but they left a lasting buzz throughout the music hall.

Matt Nathanson was the charmer of the evening. Joking in between songs and chatting with the front row, he and his band put on a fun set where songs ranged from hits (“Come On Get Higher”) to his slowed-down rendition of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” (Joe Elliott’s mullet not included). At one point Nathanson joked that playing the venue was like playing a movie theater: “Welcome to Jurassic World,” he said, laughing. Between the jokes, Nathanson played his heart out. It could be felt through the sound of his voice and the strum of his guitar and in turn the crowd gave its heart right back. Most could be seen passionately singing the lyrics to all his songs, and even if Nathanson claims to hate people, he had to have loved the crowd at Ruth Eckerd on Thursday evening.

The openers did their jobs perfectly and set O.A.R up for success, because before the headliner strummed its first chord, the crowd was on its feet, chanting the band’s initials. Once the music stopped, so did the chants, which were replaced with groupie screams and dancing feet. O.A.R frontman Marc Roberge kept the talking to a minimum and played song after song. Classics like “Shattered” and “Heaven” swooned the crowd into becoming an unpaid backup choir and newer tracks such as “Just Like Paradise” had the concert hall bouncing up and down from pure musical bliss.

The last song O.A.R chose to play was “Crazy Game of Poker” — of course — and it was absolute pandemonium. Decks of cards could be seen fluttering through the air and those initial, gray feelings of a sub-par evening were long gone and replaced by the feeling of nostalgia which swept over me. A feeling of my rebellious youth was brimming out of my mouth with every lyric I sang back to the band. I couldn’t help but to feel entranced with the crowd around me. Then the music stopped and the lights came on, and I noticed the smiles on everyone’s faces. Murmurs of how great of a show it was filled the concert hall and without a doubt, the night was considered a success. Even the pouring rain couldn’t even dampen the mood that was felt throughout the concert hall. In all, O.A.R, Matt Nathanson and The New Respects turned a boring, grey Thursday night into an exciting one full of fun.