Review: GLEN PHILLIPS (OF TOAD AND THE WET SPROCKET) at Dakota Jazz Club Minneapolis

Seeing Glen Phillips at the Dakota Jazz Club on February 23 felt easy in the best way. No production, no band, no big entrance. It was just him, a guitar, and a room full of people who really wanted to be there.

He kicked things off with “Leaving Oldtown,” and from that point on it felt like we were all just hanging out while he played whatever felt right. The whole night was just voice and guitar. That was it. And honestly, that’s all it needed to be. When it’s that stripped down, there’s nowhere to hide — and he didn’t need to.

In between songs, he talked. A lot. And it was great. The stories were funny, sometimes a little meandering, sometimes unexpectedly moving. He’d start explaining where a song came from, wander into another memory, make a joke, then somehow tie it all back together. It never felt forced. It felt real.

The Toad the Wet Sprocket songs hit especially hard in that small room. “Crowing,” “Windmills,” “Walk on the Ocean,” “Crazy Life,” “Something’s Always Wrong,” “Transient Whales,” “Starting Now,” and “All I Want” all showed up, and you could feel the history in the room. “Walk on the Ocean” turned into one of those low-key singalongs where nobody’s trying to overpower anything — just a bunch of voices blending together.

His solo songs fit the mood perfectly. “The Sound of Drinking” had that dry edge to it. “Holding On Letting Go” and “Let Enough Be Enough” landed quietly but stuck with you. “True” and “The Easy Ones” felt especially intimate with just the guitar underneath.

He threw in a soft, beautiful take on “A Case of You” by Joni Mitchell and later covered “Alesis” by Mk.gee, which felt like a cool, unexpected curveball. Both fit right into the stripped-down vibe.

One of the most memorable moments came when he introduced a brand-new song, a tribute to Renee Good. The story before it was heartfelt and personal, and once he started playing, the whole place went still. Just his voice and six strings filling the room. No distractions.

He wrapped things up with “Dwelling in the Present Moment,” which felt pretty on-the-nose in a good way. That’s what the night felt like — present. No rush, no flash, just songs and stories.

And then there was this: he told the crowd he’d be donating all of his merch sales from the night to Minneapolis organizations. That got one of the biggest reactions of the evening. It wasn’t an afterthought — it felt important.

In the end, it wasn’t complicated. Just Glen Phillips, a guitar, a stack of songs people have carried with them for years, and a room that felt connected from start to finish. Sometimes that’s more than enough.

All photos by Jared Fessler