I went to see Brandi Carlile in concert a few weeks ago. I’ve loved Brandi ever since her first album, but I’ve never gotten to see her live in concert. Brandi’s love for music, her band and her audience is that much more alive when she’s onstage—she jumped off chairs, got right up in her band mates’ faces when they were playing solos and sang songs without microphones. She was a sight to see.

Brandi’s show was at the Slowdown in Omaha, Nebraska. It’s part of Omaha’s amazingly quick mini-cultural renaissance, meaning that the Slowdown wasn’t around when I still lived there. It’s a fairly small venue with a standing room only section up by the stage and an upper level stocked with chairs and tables for the early birds. A bar lines the back wall and a bookshelf full of board games offers entertainment in between acts.

The night opened with the Seattle-based folk band, Ivan & Alyosha. They sing the kind of old-fashioned, precious folk that can be so annoying, but somehow, even with their skinny jeans and fedoras, they were entirely enjoyable. They don’t seem to be as aware of the fact that they are folk musicians—a fact that hangs right in front of the faces of their meta, Pacific Northwest folk contemporaries. Ivan & Alyosha are not afraid of simplicity or gorgeous three- and four-part harmonies.

Brandi and her band then came onstage. They have a repore together that is rare and isn’t seen very often. They are very obviously friends on-and-off stage. They even seem to have coordinated outfits—although I really hope they didn’t—because they were all wearing little black vests, some sort of neckwear and hats.

For the most part, the show isn’t about Brandi Carlile. Occasionally, she would get right up in her band mates’ faces during their solos, tugging on their shoulders, snapping their fingers, which appeared to be her way of getting really into the song, but really it just took eyes away from what could have been their moments. I couldn’t decide if it was endearing or show-offy when she turned off all the equipment and sang Patsy Cline solo or if it was silly or exciting when she jumped off a chair. And I love Brandi Carlile.

That said, I don’t have much to complain about her performance. She had a good variety of slow and upbeat songs. Her upbeat songs made the audience alive, dancing, hooting and hollering along with the performers. Nobody looked uncomfortable when Brandi asked them to clap their hands, a big feat. She performed a number of songs that weren’t on any of her albums and rather than being annoyed that they couldn’t sing along, the audience was excited to hear what she was working on before anyone else did.

My only complaint, like it is at so many concerts, makes me sound elderly. People are seriously so rude at concerts—they have no etiquette! People push others out of the way to get closer to the stage. They talk through quiet songs—a group of women talked the whole way through Brandi’s unplugged set! It’s adults, it’s teens, it’s everybody. If people can’t stop being rude assholes during concerts, I’m going to stop enjoying going to them as much as I do now.