I can’t tell you the number of annoyed glares, demonstrative sighs and rolled eyes I’ve shot in the direction of chit-chatters at concerts over the years.

Folks who’d rather talk than watch the show — therefore interfering with my ability to enjoy the show — drive me crazy. A little is OK. Carrying on a loud conversation and ignoring the artist is not. Just leave, please.

So here’s my confession: At the first Clear Summer Nights concert of the season, featuring the old-soul folk-pop of Brett Dennen and country-rockin’ opening act Dawes on June 16 at the Athletic Club of Bend, I might’ve been one of those chatty people.

In my defense, it was an incredibly social scene; the outdoor venue, nice weather and convivial atmosphere fueled a very “see and be seen” feeling on the club’s natural, grassy amphitheater.

Plus, I saw about 20 people I knew (or should know). What was I to do, ignore them?

That’s not to say I ignored Dawes and Dennen. I arrived in time to see the former — a photogenic L.A. band with songs that are slick, radio-ready and a tad too conventional — play two of their best tunes (“Time Spent in Los Angeles” and “When My Time Comes”) before ending with an interminable bluesy jam.

In between sets, I talked to two local promoter types, a Bulletin reader, two local musicians, a fellow writer and a couple of the folks behind a local festival. Plus I met Chuck Arnold and learned he’s not only the executive director of the Downtown Bend Business Association, he’s also a record-store junkie and college-radio aficionado like me. Chuck rules!

Around 7:45 p.m., Dennen slinked out onto the stage, accompanied by four bandmates, all dressed in varying stages of tracksuit. Without saying a word, he waded into the slow-burning “Ain’t Gonna Lose You,” which, when followed by “Make You Fall in Love With Me” and “She’s Mine,” might give the impression that Dennen’s written a song for every stage of a relationship. (No word if he has a “You and I Should Go Out Sometime” or “Ain’t Gonna Let You Win This Custody Battle” in his repertoire.)

The guy is a bit of an odd bird on stage. First of all, he’s incredibly tall and thin, with bright red hair cascading from beneath a beanie and framing his thick glasses. He exudes both a confident swagger and a detached cool as he saunters around stage, occasionally stopping to shake his size 24-36(ish) jeans to the delight of his female fans.

And everything he does seems effortless. Which is a good thing when effortless means “He could do this in his sleep,” but a bad thing when it’s more like “Is he asleep?” I swear there were times that Dennen’s breezy nonchalance led to slurred words, as if he couldn’t quite work up the energy to part his lips and sing. At one point during his solo acoustic encore, I wondered if he might just forget to continue playing the guitar during “Ain’t No Reason.”

By the middle of the set, my chit-chatting had died down a bit and some highlights pierced my subconscious, most notably the irresistible chorus of “Sidney (I’ll Come Running)” and the faux-tropical groove of “Make You Crazy.”

The rest of the set, though, just sort of drifted beyond the Athletic Club’s tall pines and into the Central Oregon dusk, fading into the background of my mind.

Yeah, I spent part of the night yapping. The thing is, I’m pretty sure those songs would’ve done the same thing even if I’d been totally focused on the show.

The lighter a tune’s weight, the quicker it floats away.