The former pro surfer delivered a comforting acoustic set with hits from the early 2000s.

Before becoming a renowned, Grammy-nominated music artist, Jack Johnson was training as a professional surfer. Raised on the North Shore of Oahu, he started surfing at 5 years old and had promise until a severe accident.

At 17, he wiped out on a surf reef break called the Banzai Pipeline, smashing his head into a coral reef. Johnson required over 100 stitches in his forehead and nearly died, ending any chance of a surfing career.

He transitioned to creating surf films in the ’90s, and visuals from those films floated across the screen as he performed on his SURFILMUSIC Tour at Fiddler’s Green Amphitheatre on Sept. 2. Bright blue waves crashed and wide palm trees soared over Johnson’s head as he played his acoustic guitar.

The 51-year-old artist brought peaceful vibes to the space, despite the sardined crowd. The venue seemed to be severely oversold, with audience members packed onto the grass and standing in rows on the sidewalks because there was truly no more space.

(A word of advice for future Fiddler’s Green concertgoers: If the concert seems too packed, do not stand just past the sidewalk on the start of the grassy hill. You will barely be able to catch glimpses of the stage behind rows of people and will have to rely on the screens to see the performer.)

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“Ah, it’s happening,” an audience member exclaimed as the music began. There were light trickles of rain at the onset of the show, and a huge lightning branch struck in the sky beyond the stage.

As soft purple lights shone down, Johnson started with “Mudfootball.” Visuals of kids skateboarding and a bus driving by played behind him as he sang the laid-back, surf-rock track. It was a sweet moment of nostalgia from his early 2000s repertoire.

Johnson explained that he wrote his early songs on decks of boats in between filming. He channeled that energy into the entire set. During “Flake,” playful, plunky keys and steady drums soared as visuals of bubbles rushing to the ocean surface rose above the band.

“Hey, we’re so stoked to be here. Thank you guys so much for being here with us tonight,” said Johnson. “We got a lot of friends from Hawaii here tonight.”

He broke away from the breezy atmosphere for his heartbreaking track “Sitting, Waiting, Wishing.” Audience members passionately sang along, prompting Johnson to say: “You guys feel like you’ve been through that.”

“There’s going to be a lot of love songs tonight. Those are for my wife and you,” he said. Johnson added that there would be breakup songs for his friends and audience members. “Especially you ladies up there — I can tell,” he said, calling out women near the stage.

Johnson developed his song “Holes to Heaven” from a real experience during his surf film days. He explained that the film crew had just reached a harbor when officials entered their boat and began unzipping their bags. After the boat’s captain pulled out a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red and cigarettes, they got off the boat and the surfers “scored perfect waves.”

On “Inaudible Memories,” Johnson sang about slowing down and not moving too fast — a line that encompassed the ethos of his performance.

His calm, bright demeanor encouraged audience members to take a breath, cast out their worries and live in the moment.

Sunset colors rained down as Johnson and thousands of audience members shouted the chorus to “Bubble Toes.” He brought out opening act Lake Street Dive for Tom Petty’s “You Don’t Know How It Feels” into his song “Upside Down” and then into Lake Street Dive’s “How Good It Feels.” People danced on the sidewalk as Rachael Price’s rich vocals soared through the venue.

The band stayed for a mashup of “Banana Pancakes” into a cover of the late Dolly Parton’s joyful single “9 to 5.” Hot pink lights flashed across the stage during the lovely tribute to the recently passed Queen of Country.

Audience members swayed and held each other as Johnson sang his heartfelt track “I Got You.” He concluded the show with “Better Together,” a nostalgic reminder to hold those you love close.