Tuesday, February 19, 2002
By Bob Strauss Staff Writer
The deeply satisfying thing about the "Down from the Mountain" concert, which rolled into a sold-out Universal Amphitheatre Sunday night, was the way that it showcased so much more than the expected songs from the "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" soundtrack.
There were enough beautifully rendered extra numbers from the repertoires of Emmylou Harris, Ralph Stanley, Alison Krauss & Union Station and Patty Loveless, among many others, to make the smoothly staged, multi-act event gratifying for fans of each artist as well as a glorious group tribute to the many idioms of Southern roots music.
Dazzling vocal and instrumental cross-collaborations and surprise appearances galore added still more excitement to a show whose down-home charm was matched by precision musicianship of the highest order. And it all sounded great played into vintage mikes, without an electrical cord or a drumhead in sight.
For those who've been living in some isolated Appalachian holler for the past 14 months, the old-timey soundtrack to the Coen Brothers' goofy George Clooney movie has sold more than 4 million copies, dominated the country album charts for a year and is still making forays into the pop top 10. Produced by T-Bone Burnett (who took a brief, reluctant bow Sunday), it spawned a live Nashville concert, album and documentary (by the great D.A. Pennebaker, also present, as was Ethan Coen, at the amphitheatre show), all called "Down from the Mountain."
This travelling incarnation of that May 2000 staging commenced in January and concludes in Berkeley Wednesday. It features The Whites, blues whiz Chris Thomas King (who played Tommy Johnson in "O, Brother"), a cappella field holler fivesome The Fairfield Four (making a sublimely apt sartorial statement by wearing bib overalls under their tux jackets), the little Peasall Sisters and the Nashville Bluegrass Band, along with Harris, Stanley and Krauss' outfit.
Loveless, whose recent "Mountain Soul" album was a refreshing step back from commercial country kittendom to her (genuine) coal miner's daughter roots, subbed for a missing Gillian Welch, and her rich voice added a nice resonance to the three-part "Didn't Leave Nobody But the Baby" lullaby with Krauss and Harris. Husband-and-wife team Norman and Nancy Blake came in, essentially, for both the late John Hartford and the tragedy-stricken Cox Family on such album favorites as "Big Rock Candy Mountain" and "I am Weary."
Taking over Hartford's emcee duties was musical gadfly Bob Neuwirth, who didn't play or sing but sure kept the show moving along at a brisk clip. He dedicated the evening to Hartford, the musical riverboat pilot who succumbed to cancer last year, as well as to the previous week's roots music losses, folkie Dave Van Ronk and country outlaw Waylon Jennings.
But if the shadow of death loomed over both the show's participants and many of its songs, it was one hip-slappin' riot of a wake. Highlights included Harris and her guitarist Buddy Miller's spine-tingling rendition of her old Gram Parsons duet "Love Hurts"; a guest appearance by "O, Brother" co-star Tim Blake Nelson for a rousing, dueling yodels take on "In the Jailhouse Now"; the evening's standout utility player, Union Station dobroist Jerry Douglas, singing hoarse patriarch Buck White's parts on the family band's "Sandy Land," "Keep on the Sunny Side" and Emmylou-assisted "Fair and Tender Ladies"; and an unbilled, two-song set of acoustic blues from a straw-hatted Taj Mahal.
The most soul-shattering moments, however, came courtesy of the old-timers. The Fairfield Four's sepulchral shout of "Lonesome Valley" sounded for all the world like an overcrowded churchyard's worth of spirits crying for their place in heaven. And bluegrass eminence Stanley -- was he wearing a sharkskin suit? -- proved as vocally inventive as ever, from what must be his 10,000th solo recitation of "O Death" to his encore leading of the entire company in "Angel Band" and a line-and-response, audience-included "Amazing Grace" sing-along.
If there's any better way to cap a celebration of American music than getting your own chance to harmonize with Dr. Ralph, Emmylou and all the rest, it ain't been invented.