Jennifer Knapp. Laying it all down.

Jennifer Knapp sings at Strange Brew

To see Jennifer Knapp perform was was like meeting an old friend after years and years of writing, and finally hearing her letters read out loud.

She was "there" for me through my college days some many years ago. On the 30 mile Katy Freeway drive to school, she and I sang our way in and out of obstacles.

My maroon 77 Chevy Caprice, which friends affectionately called the "Mother Ship," debuted her songs just fine on the portable boombox loaded with D batteries.

And, I'd listen to her songs in my 70's dated North Tower dorm. I'd complain when the radio just wouldn't play her songs enough.

I, a young journalist at the time, was given the task of reviewing her Kansas album for The Daily Cougar. 

I earned just $8 for the gig, but was paid so much more than that when her album changed me forever.

And, though she claimed she "aged," her voice hadn't aged a bit. And, I know because I memorized every single note about two decades ago.

She celebrated our notes too. She said our stories always circled back to her, touching her work- -motivating her art.

Pushing back her hair and laughing at the drops of mascara running down her face, she was emotionally vulnerable in celebrating the present.  She laughed, "No Twitter posts please."

She admitted being "over the age of 40," was all downhill and that nothing is "regenerating" at this point. 

She laughed at us too. When we cheered in instant recognition of "A Little More," she teased, "You're all old!"

Stories about the metaphors
She talked about her song's lyrics, "I know how to break a man. . ." and joked it had nothing to do with sexual preference, or gender or Clinton or anything. 

We laughed as we related to words that get twisted and armored without their original intention. 

She delighted inside the dancing metaphors within her songs and the journeys that stitched them together.  The roads in her hometown were symbolic of the structure that she both craved and ran from. And, she celebrated the roads in other states that took her into directions unintended.

About love
She opened up about being "needy" and admitted she "leaks" tears all of the time. She said she's been both in love for the last ten years and pessimistic the entire time.  For as much as she loves, she fears losing love. And, she realized now that love is hard, but it's a good hard game to play. 

Sprinkled inside the session were songs not yet recorded- -songs about making mistakes and no guarantees and the good that glues together the in-between.

She spoke of how it felt to need people and how scary that was to really say that.

And fans, accountants and "phone fixers" by day, volunteered their time to help sell "merch." Inspired, they said, "She's done so much good," it felt good to give back.

It was like meeting a family member after years and years of writing. . . finally hearing the letters read out loud.

The only thing that came close to explaining it were the short ticks of my right hand rubbing the wetness from my left cheek- -those little adjustments to try to hide the ripe emotion. 

As I left, I thought about the notes I've written to her, but never sent.  

Things like, thanks for being brave enough to say what I was feeling- -what we were all feeling. 

And, Jen, if you're aging. Then, we're aging too.

Jen, if you leak, then we leak too.

Jen, we all adore you- -as you have been, as you are, and as you will be."