By Chyrisse Tabone, Rock At Night Tampa
Live Review: Graham Nash’s ‘Live on Tour’ – Clearwater, Florida – April 22, 2026

Rock At Night caught Graham Nash on April 22, 2026—fittingly, Earth Day—for the first of two nights at the historic Capitol Theatre in Clearwater, Florida. Nash’s Live on Tour 2026 kicked off earlier this month in the Northeast, and seeing him now feels more vital than ever. In light of the news that we lost another legend, Dave Mason, just last night, it is a profound honor to witness an icon actively touring and breathing life into the music that defined the 1960s. Remarkably, Nash’s 84-year-old voice remains as crisp and sweet as it was in his twenties.
The stage was adorned with dozens of battery-operated candles, creating the warmth of an intimate parlor. An oriental rug anchored the floor while batik linens draped the amplifiers, setting a bohemian yet sophisticated tone. Nash performed seated, acoustic guitar in hand, flanked by long-time keyboardist and musical director Todd Caldwell. They were joined by two exceptionally talented multi-instrumentalists, Adam Minkoff and Zach Djanikian, whose harmonies were strikingly reminiscent of Crosby and Stills. Their collective musical delivery was nothing short of impeccable.

Addressing the weight of current global politics, Nash opened an evening of protest songs—many written sixty years ago—that ring even truer today. Between songs, Nash’s commentary felt like a dialogue between old friends rather than a political lecture; it was thoughtful, emotive, and urgent. “No more foreign wars,” he urged, citing the conflicts in Israel/Gaza, Russia/Ukraine, and the tensions between America and Iran—which he noted serves as a “distraction from the Epstein files.”
When he launched into “Chicago” and “Military Madness,” the emotions in the room were palpable. As he cried out, “Let them hear in Washington… no more wars!” the audience joined in a soft chant—a poignant moment of unity within the “Red” state of Florida.

The mood shifted as Nash shared a story about “astronauts opening his show” in New London, Connecticut. As a screen above the band displayed the Artemis II re-entry and splashdown, the group performed the rarely covered “The Milky Way Tonight.” Its ethereal feel and gorgeous harmonies created a truly transcendent moment.
Nash’s storytelling continued with an amusing anecdote about teen songwriter Graham Gouldman (who penned The Hollies’ hit “Bus Stop”), which he juxtaposed with the heavy backstory of “Field Worker.” Written by Nash and David Crosby in 1975 to highlight the plight of California farm workers, the song’s plea to “treat me like a human” feels hauntingly relevant fifty years later amidst modern immigration debates. Songs like “Immigration Man” echoed this eerie timelessness.
Throughout the set, Nash dedicated music to old friends and peers, including the late Dave Mason, Rita Coolidge (“Better Days”), and Stephen Stills (“Love the One You’re With”), the latter of which had the entire theater clapping and singing along.

One of the most stirring moments came when Nash recalled a 1971 fundraiser in Detroit for Vietnam Veterans Against the War. He spoke of meeting decorated Marine veteran Scott Camil, whose harrowing stories inspired the song “Oh! Camil (The Winter Soldier).” Performed with only a harmonica and guitar, the song brought a lump to the throat—a stark reminder of the draft and the cyclical nature of history.
The emotional peak, however, was Nash’s tribute to David Crosby. “I miss him every day,” he admitted softly before playing a 1970 recording of “Critical Mass.” Its somber, a cappella choral vocals segued perfectly into “Wind on the Water.” The lyrics, describing the slaughter of whales for “lipstick for your face,” remain a devastating indictment of environmental neglect.
As the evening drew to a close, Nash performed “Just a Song Before I Go,” followed by a tribute to Joni Mitchell. “Joni is still alive. Help me sing this for Joni,” he invited, launching into the crowd favorite “Our House.”
What began as an intimate 90-minute performance culminated in a standing ovation and a 30-minute series of encores that felt like a communal “love-in.” The theater erupted as everyone sang along to “Teach Your Children,” “We Can Change the World,” and “Woodstock.” The night reached its zenith with “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes,” leaving the audience—and this reviewer—entirely verklempt. It was a perfect evening of nostalgia, a necessary purging of political stress, and a masterclass from a man who still says everything we are afraid to say.
Rating: 5 Stars
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