NEW ORLEANS -- A lot of music lovers I know are able to brag about rare concert opportunities or when they saw such-and-such a band before they were famous. Until last night, I was not in this elite club. Sure, I have seen some really great live performances in my life, but seeing Ani DiFranco at the Blue Nile -- a New Orleans’ venue that’s smaller than the second floor performance space of Milwaukee’s Bradford Beach Club -- was by far the high point of my concert-going history.

The show was sold out and the only reason I eked my way in was because of my OnMilwaukee.com credentials. I stood in line for an hour before the show and was rewarded with  floor space about five feet away from Ani who gave an acoustic performance -- switching between three guitars -- for just over two hours.

It was the second night in a row Ani played an intimate show at the Blue Nile, located in New Orleans’ Marigny neighborhood. She seemed a little mellow at first, but "the lil’ folksinger" got spunkier as the show rolled on.

Currently, she is not promoting a new album -- her last was "Red Letter Year" that came out on her label, Righteous Babe, in 2008 -- although she admitted to working on one.

Life for Ani, who is 40 and the mother of a 3-year -old, has changed. A decade ago she was cranking out an album every year (she has 20 studio releases and dozens of EPs) and was touring continuously. In 2005, severe tendinitis curbed her ability to tour vigorously and altered the way she approached music.

"Now that I take my time working on shit, it takes me a little longer," she said, smiling.

Ani drew material randomly from many albums old and new, opening with "Anticipate" and rolling into "Untouchable Face," "Swan Dive," "As Is," "Names and Dates and Times," and a sing-a-long of the folk classic "Which Side Are You On" which she had recently played for Pete Seeger’s 90th birthday. Midway through the show, she invited Cyril Neville from the Neville Brothers on stage to play drums on a spoken word piece, "Fuel."

She also accepted a couple of requests, including a shout-out for "Superhero," and entertained impromptu "Q&A" sessions during her many tunings. Fans shouted out questions like "Why do you hate Florida?" (She doesn’t.) "Do you still consider yourself queer?" (She responded with a smile only.) and "Can I babysit for your daughter?" (She replied, "You’re a little late with that now.")

Ani, always a great storyteller, said her daughter was "f-cked up right now" because she had been "living the rock ‘n’ roll dream" and was not liking the concept of attending preschool. She later went on to say how much she learns from her child.

"I say to her, ‘I’m listening to you, too,’" says Ani.

She also told a story about Willie Nelson, who will appear on her next album. He played a show the night before at another New Orleans venue, and Ani tried to bring him a pot of rice and beans as a thank you for agreeing to work with her. Turns out, she arrived too late to give him the grub before the show -- so she watched the gig with a pot of beans on her lap -- and then after the show couldn’t get to him in time and he drove off, bean-less, in his bus.

"There I was, with a big ol’ pot of congealing beans," she says, with her signature laugh.

The fact I stood just a few feet from the iconic Ani in a tiny venue in her new home town of New Orleans (Ani is originally from Buffalo, New York and moved to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina in 2005) was indeed a thrill in itself.

But even more moving for me was hearing a collection of songs spanning over the past 20 years and remembering how much she influenced the way I think about race, gender and the media. I came of age through the music of Ani DiFranco, and the fact that her audiences continue to include so many new adults solidifies the continued relevance of her message.