Live music review: Ludacris Came to Party and Hank Jr Wants You to Know He’s Not Gay at Two Step Inn

The Two Step Inn people are getting this thing right. Last year, being the first kick-off event, there were a few holes in the ship regarding accessibility and general needs being met, but this year, they’ve kicked up everything from just a few notches to feet, including lockers to water stations and tents for drug testing. Last year, I was lucky enough to catch both days. This year, I managed to sneak into the fest only on Sunday, April 21 but what I saw was worth the risk of getting towed. (Hey C3, next year, can the press please get parking passes? I checked my phone every :30, hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with a tow truck nightmare.)

I missed Wyatt Flores, but given the sheer number of his shirts I saw roaming around, the young up-and-comer is making waves because last year’s festival was nothing but a Zach Bryan shirt fest. But I did grab time with 49 Winchester, who put on a hell of a performance in the festival setting. Would I rather see them somewhere like Mohawk? Yes. But, they got every ounce out of the stream of cowboy hats hooting for their brand of southern rock. 49 Winchester brings the ZZ Top to the party, not just because there is some severe beard action. 

Also, who doesn’t love the sign language ladies? Watching someone go HAM with their fingers is fascinating, especially when signing about some good timing and late nights with sketchy women.

Charley Crockett hit the main stage. He’s a hometown hero, and I’m happy for him. I lived in New Orleans the same time he did and remember him as a street busker, so it’s cool to see him rise from playing for dollars to the main stage. When Crockett first hit, I was into it. For the last few years, the schtick has worn thin on me because I felt like every one of his tunes sounded the same. But, in his defense, he played some new songs from his latest album, $10 Cowboy that showed a different side and were very good. He did a respectable job working the massive stage, but Charlie Crockett as a club act is much more exciting as his energy transfers better. And let’s be honest, the man is a snazzy dresser. 

Passing through Neal McCoy’s set, it was a homespun classic country set talking about the small town, church, yadda yadda. Not a controversial thing was said, and I kept moving.

Walking the grounds, I noticed that the space was utilized so much better. The lounge areas for pass holders are worth the upgrade because having a clean place to pee and access to private bartenders and food is a blessing when you’re trying to grab a drink fast. Plus, there were plenty of places to sit and talk in the shade, so if I were in Gen Pop, this is an investment worth making. 

One of the other fashion trends I saw at the festival was brightly colored cowboy rain boots, which I thought were fun. I’d never seen them before. This year, there were also noticeably fewer men in cut-off jean shorts, but I blame the weather.

I don’t know Megan Maroney, but many of the women at the festival did. Coming out to a Taylor Swift song, the crowd of mostly women sang along to the intro music like Taylor was there. And for her set, the crowd never thinned out, staying packed to the gills as the young ladies sang every word with a fever.

And then came Hank Williams Jr. If there was any moment where you’re like, “this is some boomer shit,” it was Hank Jr’s set. I’m not doing it, but it was an experience. Coming out to his own hype man, the country music star lets you know he is a country music legend, coming out to his back animation declaring ICON with a matching hat. That was a theme of the performance, and he switched many hats. There were 15 options for him; maybe his head would get sweaty, I don’t know, but he wore at least five different ones during his hour set.

Like any seasoned country music performer, Hank Jr. stuck to the tight script of moving through his songs and not bothering with any new stuff, just the hits like “Outlaw Women” and “OD’d in Denver.” He slipped in a few of his dad’s tunes like “Move it on Over” and “Kawliga.” He also played a little ZZ Top, “Have Mercy,” which I wonder if the dudes in 49 Winchester got wind of.

Hank Jr even played the football song. Yes, the Monday Night Football song, giving out numbers on its timeless popularity, announcing, “and I wrote the fuckin’ song!” The football song morphed into an anthem about how much he loves women and how much he loves sleeping with them. It’s a weird choice, but ok. If one message came through, Hank Williams Jr is not gay. He played his song “Dinosaur” and did not care if the lyrics offended. He kept it moving with the usual aplomb of someone whose friends were dead, and basically, he and Willie left.

When Ludacris took the stage, everyone over 35 flocked to see the lone rapper in a sea of cowboy hats. This was the set all drunk moms were dying for, and Ludacris did his best to give their Millennial hearts a show. And Ludacris rose to the occasion, playing the hits back-to-back. Until you see him in action, it’s easy to forget that Ludacris has a lot of big songs. From “Move, Bitch” to “Stand up” to “My Chick Bad,” he kept going, doing his guest verses from songs like “Dirt Road Anthem” and the Justin Bieber song “Baby,” which all the Gen Z kids lost their minds over. And I will tell you, “My Chick Bad” still goes hard.

Turnpike Troubadours have had their ups and downs, but since reunited two years ago, the band has never been bigger. Working through their hits, the band seemed genuinely excited to be Sunday’s main draw. Singer Evan Felker said, “I’d love to say it’s like the good old days, but this is way better!” And racing through their catalog, they ran. From “Mean Old Sun” to “The Bird Hunters” and “Good Lord Lorrie,” they played every song a fan wanted to hear in a festival setting. All bangers, no weird “for us” moments where the band plays a deep cut no one knows. But, while the band was cooking with gas, the crowd chanted and sang their hearts out, giving the band plenty of energy to keep playing at full speed.

All photos courtesy of Two Step Inn