Ryan Adams – Taft Theatre, Cincinnati, OH

July 22, 2025

ornado sirens filled the early evening air as I arrived at the Taft Theatre to photograph and review Ryan Adams' July 20th Cincinnati stop. With Adams' reputation for being temperamental through the years, it was an inauspicious way to kick off the night, and I hoped it was not a sign of things to come. Back in December of 2022, when I covered his last Cincinnati concert, I was left feeling very conflicted. I struggled to reconcile my love of the music with the flaws of the man who created it, and still do to this day.

As this year’s concert grew nearer, I was unsure if I would even get approved after my frank appraisal of the 2022 show. If I did get approved, how would I feel? Adams’ music was a soundtrack of my life for more than a decade, but I have had only brief interactions with it over the past five years. Would it be like reuniting with a long-lost friend? Would I feel the same conflict I felt 3 years ago, when I last heard these songs? Am I too divorced from the person I was to still be moved by his lyrics? Would he go off on an ill-considered rant, as he is often wont to do? Or would it be the witty and charming Ryan that all too infrequently showed up over the years?

To say I was anxious as the doors opened and I prepared to photograph would be a bit of an overstatement. I’ve been doing this since 2011 and no longer get anxious or nervous about it. I’m confident in my abilities, and comfortable in a venue that I have photographed in more than 60 times. However, I was wary of any last-minute changes to the media or photography policy, especially given Adams’ sometimes acrimonious relationship with the press. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes we’re surprised with new restrictions or a last-minute photo release just before the show starts. Instead, the opposite happened.

we had been invited to photograph the show from the stage – not from the side stage, not from the back corner, but anywhere on stage. I gotta say, in nearly 14 years of concert photography, this was a first.

As I caught up with some friends I hadn’t seen in a long time, I glimpsed friend and fellow press photographer Jon, out of the corner of my eye, eagerly beckoning me to join him at the soundboard. When I arrived, Jon told me that the tour manager had informed him that we had been invited to photograph the show from the stage – not from the side stage, not from the back corner, but anywhere on stage. I gotta say, in nearly 14 years of concert photography, this was a first. I excused myself to run across the street to grab a different lens, and then before I knew it, we were standing in the shadows off the side of the stage, waiting for Ryan to walk out.

The show started 30 minutes late as Adams stayed at the merch counter signing and drawing custom art for fans. Instead of the enfant terrible I had expected, he was going out of his way to accommodate his fan and allowing two press photographers unprecedented access. I was on my heels… What the hell was going on?

I was snapped out of my reverie when Ryan came through the backstage door to greet us briefly and let us know we could stay onstage, wherever we wanted until he played a song on the piano, so we didn’t have to worry about the typical three-and-out rule. He then looked at his team and said, “Alright, it’s gonna be great” and walked on stage with a trail of photographers in his wake. After snapping a few shots as he greeted the crowd, I felt conspicuous and slipped off to stage left, behind the curtain, to grab a few shots with my long lens. Ryan sat down and talked about his Meniere’s disease, politely asking the crowd to refrain from using their camera flashes during the show. A few minutes of banter later, he started off the chords of To Be Young (Is to Be Sad, Is to Be High), but stopped after a few strums in. He looked directly at me and said, “They already know you’re here, man. Come on out!” and gestured for Jon and me to leave the shadows to get better angles, giving us free rein of the stage. After we wrapped up shooting, I packed up my gear and made my way to my seat.

What proceeded was a vaudevillian two and a half hours filled with wisecracks, hard-to-follow non-sequiters, memories of his days in North Carolina, stories behind his songs, and some of the most beautiful renditions of the tracks from Heartbreaker (and a few other songs) that I’ve ever heard. Ryan was clearly having a good time as he jokingly rolled right through the planned intermission with a nineteen-minute electric version of Bartering Lines, joined by his merch guy and guitar tech on bass and drums.

He seemed more at home on stage. Less angry and more snarky. It wasn’t a return to form, so much as it was a new evolution, but was it too little too late?

While Adams is not a virtuoso instrumentalist, I was impressed by his command of dynamics. Knowing exactly when to let the piano or fingerpicked guitar get so sparse that it was barely there, only to have the relative silence shattered by an emotion-filled crescendo. These moments of brilliance often had the shine taken off them a bit by the overlong banter, filled with fart jokes and gentle ribbing of fans as they headed back and forth to the bar. Though I couldn’t help but wish for less banter and more songs, this was a different Ryan than I had seen. He seemed more at home on stage. Less angry and more snarky. It wasn’t a return to form, so much as it was a new evolution, but was it too little too late?

For someone whose lyrics are so much about sadness and loss, it was strangely vulnerable to hear him speaking about his feelings rather than singing.

Amidst the silliness and songs, there were a few genuine heartfelt and emotional moments. Before playing “Oh My Sweet Carolina,” he talked about the loss of his brother Chris, who passed away at the age Ryan is now. Reflecting on the struggles he’s had over the years, which are many, he looked to the sky and spoke to his brother, then dedicated the song to him. For someone whose lyrics are so much about sadness and loss, it was strangely vulnerable to hear him speaking about his feelings rather than singing. It was arguably the most real and “human” moment I’ve seen from him since the 2019 scandal. There was no punchline, no defensiveness. Just honest human emotion.

With a show devoid of outbursts, rants, or meltdowns, I had to ask myself, “Was this the bellwether of a new era for Ryan Adams? Has he done enough to earn a redemption arc? Or was this just a fleeting glimpse of what might have been?” Only time will tell.

As he cracked jokes, he offered what I believe is perhaps the best summation of the experience of Ryan Adams fans throughout his often tumultuous career, saying, “I love making you laugh as much as I love depressing you.”