Take Me to Church … at the Mid-State Fair

I 100 percent will travel for music. Concerts have been the hook for many of my trips over the past decade, and a good number of them have been for Eric Church. I credit my cousin Sue, a devoted fan of the North Carolina country artist, whose enthusiasm is infectious. Back when I was living in Los Angeles, she indoctrinated me on a 2017 visit planned around one of Church’s Staples Center shows. Until then, I only knew his song “Wrecking Ball” from occasionally listening to country radio. After that first show, I understood the appeal — he’s a commanding performer and clever song writer backed by seriously good musicians. My own fandom started developing as I delved into his catalog.

Thirteen shows and nearly a decade later, I’ve now seen him in Los Angeles four times, including Intuit Dome last November. We made a double header road trip of it from Santa Ynez, standing front row in the pit in Fresno the night before L.A. as he played his latest Grammy-nominated album, Evangeline vs. the Machine, start to finish before digging into well-known hits and some deep cuts. 

I caught him in Austin this spring with Stephen Wilson Jr. opening, and made my maiden voyage to Red Rocks last summer for back-to-back nights — one full band, one acoustic, the second ending with rivers cascading down the amphitheater steps during a massive downpour. (My boots took three days to dry!)

I was also front and center at Stagecoach in 2024 for his “controversial” set — an impressive stripped-down, gospel-choir-backed medley performance that showed off his artistry, yet left casual fans wanting the hits and walking away. Serious fans loved it, Sue included! Wrong audience and environment for that creative flex perhaps, but I’m glad I witnessed it. (And also learned that Stagecoach isn’t for me.) Add Lexington, Kentucky; Sacramento; and Grand Rapids, Michigan, and you get the picture: I’ve seen Church in nearly every kind of venue American touring offers.

Except a county fair. Which brings me to the part I’m slightly embarrassed to admit: I grew up on the Central Coast, I’ve been back for nearly six years, and until this summer, attending the California Mid-State Fair never crossed my mind. Then Eric Church was announced and my phone blew up with people making sure I knew. A closer look at the lineup explained the fair’s reputation: Chris Stapleton opened the concert season with a pre-Fair show, Lainey Wilson played the night before Church, and Ice Cube made it clear the Grandstand stage isn’t strictly country. Paso Robles is practically my backyard. So I grabbed a trio of tickets the week they went on sale, rallied two girlfriends, and booked a downtown Airbnb located in walking distance to the fairgrounds.

You have to buy fair admission to access the concerts, which means the show comes with a built-in opening act of classic Americana — bright, noisy carnival rides; gloriously chaotic people-watching; and thick barbecue smoke wafting through the air. Inside the concert venue, we caught the tail end of Ernest’s opening set, found our seats on the ground level (where everyone stands and dances; the grandstand seats are for the sitters), and fueled up with drinks and fried food on a stick.

The venue holds around 14,000, but it doesn’t feel like it. The stage is smaller than an arena’s, with no room for big production, and that constraint simplifies everything: The focus is purely on the songs. Church seemed to know exactly where he was, opening with “Cold One” and curating a set built on familiarity: “Record Year,” “Hell of a View,” and “Hometown” — crowd pleasers, with a couple of newer tracks like “Bleed on Paper” mixed in. Then came “Springsteen.” I’ve heard it live a dozen times, but singing “funny how a melody sounds like a memory, like a soundtrack to a July Saturday night” on an actual July Saturday night — under the neon glow of fair lights, in my neighboring county — was joyful perfection. 

It was probably the shortest set I’ve seen him perform, and he told us why: The fair meant business about the curfew and he wasn’t going to break their rules. (Red Rocks after a rain delay was another story — I’d say Chief, as he’s known, picks his battles wisely!) It was exactly the right length and a damn good time.

Now I get why the Mid-State Fair is a summer tradition for so many Central Coasters and Central Valley folks, some who come for several shows in a row. It’s a charming, easygoing experience compared to a massive arena or festival — the acoustics might not be flawless, but that’s not what it’s about. If the right artist lands on next year’s lineup, I’ll definitely be back.