Too Much Rock is always going to root for the home team. My favorite band is still every local band, but it’s a good idea to check out a show in another city every so often. Might I suggest hopping on a train so you can watch the cornfields and small towns go by, stay with an old friend, eat your way across their city, hit a dozen book and record stores, walk until you get blisters, and then catch a show at a venue you've never been to. If possible, catch a lineup that could only happen in that city. It's a fool-proof plan – I know because I tested it last weekend.

Lincoln Hall sits in the heart of Chicago's Lincoln Park neighborhood right across from the famous Biograph theater. While the 122-year-old building has served many purposes during its existence, in 2009 it was rechristened as a bar and live music venue. It's currently owned by the Audiotree folks along with its sister venue, the smaller Schubas Tavern. It has a lovely marquee, plenty of dark wood, immaculate bathrooms, and holds 500 patrons between its main floor and balcony. On this night it was tasked with hosting several reunions and a homecoming.

Precisely at 8pm Tamar Berk took the stage. We'll skip the long bio, but Berk is a Cleveland kid who moved to Chicago after art school, made some very good alt rock, moved to Portland, made some great psych rock, and then moved to San Diego where she now makes excellent power pop. The members of her backing band have similar, if not longer, resumes. Spend some time on Discogs looking up guitarist Chris Marsteller, bassist Steven Denekas, and drummer Matt Walker if you're curious. The quartet played a chronological fourteen-song set, starting with "Skipping the Cracks" from Berk's 2021 debut, and ending at "You Trigger Me" from her fourth and most recent album. The setlist pulled out the big guns, rightly focusing on the fastest and most energetic songs. When the recorded version leaned into pop production with ornate strings or keys, the live version was streamlined for passion. Berk left her ballads on the shelf for the coda. The entire set was loaded with big hooks and catchy melodies, completed by sincere and smart lyrics, but it was Berk's voice that stole the show. It balanced pop precision with rock & roll swagger and seductive emotion to cover all the bases. There were several moments when she pushed her voice hard, but even turned to eleven it remained convincing and controlled. Berk's own guitar stuck close to the rest of the rhythm section, never swinging for the fences, but Marsteller was allowed to decorate the compositions with hot licks and brawny solos. Berk choked up more than once during the night while explaining how grateful she was to be performing again for this crowd of friends. The end of the fifty-minute set was dedicated to those friends and to the city, closing with the tender "Suitcase & Gun" and "Chicago." The finale even got Marsetller to trade his guitar for a mandolin, ending the homecoming with some softness.

The foursome had scarcely taken its bow when instruments and personnel began a hasty choreographed swap. A minute later Tamar Berk was still on stage, but she was now joined by bassist Jodie Zeitler and drummer Mike Zelenko. This trio represented Starball, a Chicago-based band with an ever-changing line-up led by Berk from 1995 until 2002. The act thrived in the alt rock world, balancing pretty vocals, driving rhythms, and aggressive guitars. While it never reached the heights that Chicago contemporaries like Veruca Salt or Liz Phair obtained, maybe it should have. For those in Kansas City, Frogpond is a very apt analog. The threesome only played three songs. While still recognizable as Berk compositions, they were rougher and more aggressive than her current work. That brew of nostalgia and energy spoke to the audience, drawing it forward, and inspiring several dancers. Starball was undeniably fun, and certainly messy. Berk warned the audience that she'd have to play leads in these numbers, adding, "That's not me anymore." But who wants perfection when it was more fun to watch Berk smile during a flub? Zelenko was similarly silly and loose, often standing behind his drum kit and pounding away. Zeitler, however, was locked in. She provided solid backing vocals and moved about the stage as if she were still 27 years old and two weeks into a national tour. At the end of the twelve-minute set Berk hinted that a full reunion show could be on the horizon, if that happens, maybe that's your excuse to plan a rock & roll road trip.

Between acts, the crowd made its push forward for the headliners. They weren't a rowdy bunch – most were in their 50s – but it was a sellout. That's 500 fans ready to sing along.

I probably don't need to dig into the history of Material Issue. I suspect no one is reading this that doesn't already have an affinity for the group, but the shortish version is the band was a Chicago power pop trio active from the late '80s to mid '90s, signed to a major, adored by college radio and MTV, but the label never got them over the hump. Vocalist/guitarist/songwriter Jim Ellison committed suicide in 1996 ending its run. Decades later bassist Ted Ansani and drummer Mike Zelenko would reunite for special occasions as Material Reissue. This was a special occasion.

Let's tackle this head on: Material Issue isn't Material Issue without Jim Ellison. You know this, I know this, and Ansani and Zelenko know this, and, yes, they're heard the naysayers' grumblings. But it's the duo's palpable love for Ellison and his music that has brought them back to these songs. Material Reissue is a celebration, not a re-creation, and despite my own trepidations, not one of us left disappointed by the show we got.

On this night Ansani and Zelenko were joined by vocalist/rhythm guitarist Phil Angotti and lead guitarist Lou Hallwas – each is a Chicago power pop journeyman. Together this foursome started off with "Renee Remains the Same," before continuing with eighteen more that drew heavily from the band's 1991 debut album International Pop Overthrow. Angotti sang most of the leads with Ansani also managing a few. Many songs got long introductions from Ansani who added interesting context, often explaining how these versions were pared back from the initial recordings – sometimes to allow Ellison's lyrics to come through, sometimes to inject intensity that was smoothed-over decades ago. Even with the added focus on "chop," mid-tempo power pop still ruled the quartet's eighty-minute set. Of course, time was allowed for charming ballads like "Next Big Thing," but it was the enthusiastic three-song climb to (initial) finale "Kim the Waitress" that served the highlight of the set.

While the band regrouped backstage, the crowd got loud and stayed loud. When the musicians reemerged, kicking off their encore with "Very First Lie," the audience quickly took over the vocals. Ansani got misty. I expected the fans to know the hits, but they knew the full catalog – even rare treats like the early "Color TV" or the posthumous "Carousel." For the next song, Ansani asked the audience what it wanted to hear, but then quickly cut them off with, "Yeah, we don't know any of those," and instead launching into a cover of "Jet" by Paul McCartney. For most of the night Hallwas played from the wing, barely visible as he offered leads and solos full of swagger. Thankfully, during this encore, he came to the edge of the stage to deliver the iconic solo, posing alongside Angotti. The night ended with the "Chance of a Lifetime" once again showcasing the harmonies that Angotti and Ansani had shared all night.

After the show I popped back out on Lincoln Avenue ready to gloat. I had played gin in a sunny observation car traveling across Iowa, the friend I was staying with had just adopted an adorable puppy, the vegan apple cider donut ice cream at Vaca's Creamery was amazing, Buckets O' Blood had a huge selection of oi 7"s, my big toe had a category 4 blister on it, Lincoln Hall was beautiful, and I had seen a memorable concert that could only have happened in Chicago. To quote a great tactician from my youth: I love it when a plan comes together.