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April 30, 2008

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN & THE E STREET BAND
Greensboro Coliseum (Greensboro, NC)
April 28, 2008

(NODEPRESSION.NET) -- If you're a Springsteen fan you've probably already seen set lists and other details about the Monday night show I attended. Rather than a quick-turnaround Tuesday writing and posting a formal review, I spent the day just down the road in Winston-Salem at a Barack Obama town meeting (fittingly enough, given that Springsteen has endorsed him). Thus, what follows is less structured and more scattershot -- a handful of observations from one longtime Bruce fan's perspective....

* For a long stretch I'd managed to see Springsteen every election year, starting in 1984 (the first election-year in which I was old enough to drive myself to concerts). Somehow things shuffled slightly this last cycle; I caught him in '02 at this same venue, and then a solo show in '06 in Seattle. For whatever reason, it seemed important to see him in this election year.

Certainly Springsteen doesn't refrain from being political, and this night was no exception (though nothing came of the possible notion that Obama might make an appearance; he was campaigning in the area, so it had seemed not too far-fetched). With Bruce, though, the political has always best been channeled through the personal; you get the picture well enough from the characters in his songs, whether on age-old numbers such as "It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City" or the title track to his new album Magic (both of which he performed on this night).

* Much of a performance's tone/tempo can be divined by a closer examination of the set list, in terms of what records the material is being drawn from. Monday's show sorted out like this: seven songs from Magic; three from Born To Run; three from Darkness On The Edge Of Town; three from The Rising; two from The River; one from Greetings From Asbury Park; one from Born In The U.S.A.; one from The Seeger Sessions; and four various orphans from the likes of the Live 1975-85 collection and the Tracks box.

Those non-formal-album tracks meant this show probably appealed more to the hardcore fans craving such obscurities, as opposed to those looking for the better-known songs. I guess I fall somewhere in between; while I appreciate the less-obvious cuts from the formal albums (thus my joy at hearing "Hard To Be A Saint"), I've never been one to follow deeply into the ancillary catalogue, so the opening one-two punch of "Roulette" and "Don't Look Back" was mostly lost on me. My guess is that others were amazed by and quite appreciative of that start.

That wasn't quite the beginning of the show, actually; the video tribute to the recently departed E Street keyboardist Danny Federici (which is also posted on Springsteen's official website) was quite moving, and a fitting acknowledgment of their fallen comrade.

* Not being one to keep up with daily tour-reports, I've probably missed that holding up signs with a song-title request has become commonplace at Springsteen's shows, with Bruce eventually plucking one of the signs from the audience and playing the song (and then autographing and returning the sign to its owner). Tonight's pick happened to be one of my personal favorites, "Waiting On A Sunny Day" (from The Rising). Other request-signs that didn't get picked included "Independence Day", "Racing In The Streets", "Jungleland", "Jersey Girl", "Detroit Medley", "Hungry Heart", "Lucky Town", "Kitty's Back" and "Rosalita". (Whoever had the "Ramrod" sign may have initially been disappointed, but must've been thrilled when he pulled that one out during the five-song encore.) All in all, a nice little gimmick to further energize the audience.

* Having had seats behind the stage the very first time I saw Springsteen, I've always admired the efforts to which he makes a point of playing to the fans in the back every so often during the show. This night was no exception, and it was clear the folks in those sections appreciated it as much as I did back in '84. It's really not a bad place to be at all for a Springsteen show, especially since those seats are generally quite close to the stage.

* Watching the E Street Band onstage in its full overdrive glory, it continued to seem almost incomprehensible to me what it would've been like to be in the audience in Houston a couple weeks ago, to imagine the surreality of such a scene suddenly being intertwined with the presence of Alejandro Escovedo walking out from the wings and up to a microphone right next to Springsteen. There'd be an almost "what's wrong with this picture?" vibe to it -- except that, to the contrary, it's ultimately a case of how right that picture actually is.

* Finally, when the Obama town meeting came to a close a few miles away about twelve hours later, it seemed entirely fitting that the song which came over the sound system as he left the stage was Bruce Springsteen's "The Rising". Come on up, indeed....

-- PETER BLACKSTOCK
Copyright c. 2008 No Depression Inc. and/or Peter Blackstock.

Posted by Peter at 3:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

April 22, 2008

SHELBY LYNNE
ArtsCenter (Carrboro, NC)
March 13, 2008

(NODEPRESSION.NET) -- Waiting in line before the show, many recalled Shelby Lynne's performance eight years ago, at the neighboring Cat's Cradle, as a real barnburner. New location, but that barn burned again in 2008. Memories this time, however, may center on the heady indoor fireworks shared by a singer, a band and an audience.

From the beginning -- with songs from the recent Just A Little Lovin' -- Shelby Lynne purred, growled, soothed and teased with the casual assurance of an artist at her peak. With an ace band and an adoring crowd, the bar kept on rising. It is hard to imagine a singer with more ideal instrumental support, though at first they blended so perfectly with Shelby, in taut restraint on the Mann-Weill, Bacharach-David openers, that the band's gradual emergence as singular voices came as something of a jolt.

There was, "Hey, that's John Jackson!", as the guitarist spun out those jaggedly wicked yet carefully crafted solo lines, to even more concerted effect than he had once delivered for Bob Dylan and Lucinda Williams. Or, "That Randy Laegos can play anything," as the Nashville keyboard wiz brought light and shadow atmospherics crucial to match the ebb and flow of a sophisticated set list, at one point even employing a bass flute to widen the sonic horizon.

The rhythm pair of longtime Lynne associate Brian Harrison and Buddy Miller alum Bryan Owings was equally adept, tightening and loosening the pulse in each song's soulful heart. While their support was impeccable, they could steer the melodic or harmonic course too -- shades of Muscle Shoals.

Those initial shadow-takes on Dusty Springfield's Dusty In Memphis love-letters would be only one of the evening's tacks. From Lynne's own songbook, the back-porch meditation "Johnny Met June" and the defiant lament "Your Lies" underscored the confident versatility Shelby now commands.

Nowhere was this more evident than on "Black Light Blue". The singer seemed to savor each note, sensing its impact and then rolling with it, stirring an emotional stew both desperate and delicious. This is what a live performance can do (though all too rarely will). Nobody's tinkering with the sound, and nobody needs to, when all involved are this engaged at this level.

-- JERRY WITHROW
Copyright c. 2008 No Depression Inc. and/or Jerry Withrow.

Posted by Peter at 5:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

April 20, 2008

ROBERT PLANT & ALISON KRAUSS FEATURING T BONE BURNETT
Palace Theatre (Louisville, KY)
April 19, 2008

(NODEPRESSION.NET) -- As Jim Lauderdale is too prone to remark at various points during the annual Americana Music Association Honors & Awards, that's Americana.

It's a fair bet that large segments of the audience were really hoping this would be more like a Robert Plant MTV "Unplugged" session and were tempted to view Alison Krauss as a really expensive and high-profile backup singer. Which, of course, is not exactly -- not hardly; not at all -- what they got, for the real trick of the evening was so deeply remaking the Led Zeppelin covers as to almost hide them against the memory of their past, to make them part and parcel of the folk tradition. As they are, by now (and, anyway, that's where a good many of them were, um, acquired).

Raising Sand, the T Bone Burnett-produced album of duets which was well enough received (and, one suspects, made with sufficient fun) to outweigh the pleasures of an extended Zeppelin reunion for Plant, was not a grand statement. It was an intentionally modest album, in the tradition of John Lennon's 1975 Rock 'N' Roll or much of John Entwistle's solo career. The first generation of the British invasion came to rock 'n' roll not strictly through the blues (from which Peter Green and Eric Clapton emerged) but from its pop side, too: from Buddy Holly and Elvis Presley and the Everly Brothers.

For Plant, this album and tour is a chance to play with and within a tradition he adores and respects, and to escape from the operatic ecstasies of his superstardom. For the balance of his band -- Buddy Miller (guitar, steel guitar, autoharp), Union Station alum Stuart Duncan (guitars, clawhammer banjo, fiddle), Dennis Crouch (bass), and Jay Bellerose (drums) -- this is an opportunity to play with two of the great voices of this or any other day, and to rock, occasionally. (At one point Miller seemed to get in touch with his inner Kim Thayil, though I suspect Buddy's not much of a Soundgarden fan.)

All of that -- that mix, the melange, that messing about -- that's Americana.

That these are conflicting impulses is part of the potential charm, and a significant challenge. Particularly to the technical crew, who must juggle an assortment of microphones, amplifiers, instruments, balance points...

And so a caveat: This was the first night of the tour. Every other night these folks play together will be easier and more fun and better, and so if Miller kept being handed guitars that were inexplicably out of tune, or microphones weren't always turned on (or up) on cue, and if there was a certain inevitable stiffness among performers sorting out how to do what they all do so well in this setting, well, it was still an opportunity to watch seven tremendously talented musicians play through a deep and curious songbook.

Was magic made? Not yet; or, rather, not together, not yet. This is Alison Krauss' turf, apart from the rock edges, which she has largely hidden in performance. The ornate Palace Theatre is familiar (Krauss recorded her 2002 live album there, and the IBMA awards were held there for a time), and she is accustomed to playing acoustic music. And her spotlight songs soared, though she seemed a trifle tense, even alone. Plant is the interloper, and yet the star, and has nothing to lose. Is easy with himself. Those who watched the CMT "Crossroads" special recorded earlier may have noticed his over-broad hand movements, arena-sized gestures of long habit. He has quelled them, for the most part, but is still not quite able simply to address the microphone and the audience and sing -- except when he is singing harmony. Which is not to say he is anything less than gracious, nor engaged. Simply that old habits die hard, and he is adapting.

And, anyway, no other performer even dabbling in American could so easily prompt an audience to sing in response, as Plant did with very small gestures during "Black Dog", a song that reached crescendo not through vocal pyrotechnics, but because Bellerose switched to mallets on the drums. (The Louisville audience did not sing in key, though, in fairness, it's a difficult part, even if there are no words to learn.)

Comparatively little of the set came from Raising Sand, but, perhaps because they had already been most carefully worked out, those songs came off best. The Zeppelin chestnut "Please Read The Letter" (from the 1998 Jimmy Page/Robert Plant album Walking Into Clarksdale) was a letter-perfect Everlys knockoff, both loving and lovely. "Fortune Teller" "Rich Woman" opened the show (cutting off Elmore James' "Madison Blues" on the house system), Plant and Krauss both walking to their microphones on cue, and Plant later made a point to introduce Townes Van Zandt's "Nothing", though it got an oddly blurry performance. They closed a four-song encore with an especially mournful, tender reading of "Your Long Journey".

Many things came in between (after a brief opening act, their set ran roughly two and a half hours), and it's hard to guess how many of them will survive or be changed out. Mid-set, Krauss left the stage, and Plant stopped proceedings and brought T Bone Burnett to center stage, where the producer sang two songs from his new album. This was the only time Burnett was afforded a microphone, though he clearly led the band from his seat to the drummer's left (our right), and while they were nice enough songs, it takes a certain amount of self-conviction to take center stage when Robert Plant, Alison Krauss, Buddy Miller and Stuart Duncan are also singing. Plant slipped into the background to sing harmonies on Burnett's second number.

The truth is that I went hoping for something like the original O Brother wrap party at the Ryman, where (among other great joys) Emmylou Harris, Gillian Welch and Alison Krauss made a trio of "Down To The River To Pray", as gorgeous a sound as one will ever hear. On this evening, Krauss sang her song against a trio of male voices, centered around their own microphone: Plant, Duncan and Miller. Their microphone was turned too low, but it may well be spectacular when you can hear all four voices. Certainly the George Jones cover in the encore (I've now forgotten the title) with Miller finally turned loose on a microphone (which quickly was turned up), his rough voice playing against Plant's reedy tenor and Krauss' skyscraper, suggests how spectacular this tour will become. Should become.

And watching them work out the kinks, while not magic, was still tolerably close. Those two, they can sing.

-- GRANT ALDEN
Copyright c. 2008 No Depression Inc. and/or Grant Alden.

P.S. To the two corrections (and there may be more). I have never taken notes for live reviews. In the print world, I have time and resources to check against set lists (and such) from one source or another. The plague of the internet is that one is emboldened to publish soonest, and so...my foibles are more public than might be wished. So it goes.

Posted by Grant at 1:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)