He walked onto the dimly lit stage alone after a lighthearted sweetheart finished her opening act. The crowd was undeniably small even after it doubled when he started singing. I could tell that he didn't trust us, and I later understood why.
David didn't have any other musicians around him to joke with between songs. He didn't have any other instruments to cover him if he made a mistake. No back-up singers if his voice cracked. He had one friend in the crowd, I think. No one bought any of his merchandise before he went on, maybe they did after. The strangers who paid money to get in were chatting amongst themselves before his set and they didn't necessarily stop when he started playing.
He sang songs about pain and loneliness and love and enemies like time that you can't control or even spite. He has this one song about his parents' love that I really like. He has another about the sick feeling of satisfaction you sometimes get when you hurt someone else. Crushed hopes and failed expectations are laced in with some of his love songs.
I am continually impressed with artists (and anyone, for that matter) who can be honest in risky situations. I know those songs are incredibly expensive to David, and he presented them to viewers who could have been indifferent about his work. I thought that was very brave.