October 8, 2000
Chicago Sun Times
COUNTRY MUSIC REVIEW BY BOBBY REED
Friday night at the Vic, Emmylou Harris sang her own songs. Somewhere, her mentor Gram Parsons is smiling.
Before performing Boudleaux Bryant's classic "Love Hurts," Harris told the packed house that she had sung the song in Chicago before. The silver-maned vocalist reminisced that she and Parsons had sung it in 1973 at the Quiet Knight, a venue that some of the middle-aged fans in attendance remembered.
Back then, Parsons was a trailblazer, creatively melding the genres of country and rock. Harris was his backing vocalist and inexperienced protege. After Parsons died (in September 1973), Harris continued Parsons' mission of merging traditional country sounds with rock instrumentation and attitude.
Harris has performed Parsons' tunes for the entirety of her solo career, which has lasted more than a quarter century. During Friday's concert, Harris even delved into Parsons' pre-solo songbook for a blistering cover of the Flying Burrito Brothers' tune "Wheels."
But Harris' act of carrying a torch for his music is not the key reason that Parsons would be proud. As a songwriter himself, Parsons would beam with pride that Harris, at age 53, has finally committed herself to composing original music.
Harris has collected numerous platinum albums, No. 1 singles, and a trophy case full of Grammy awards--all by singing other people's songs. With her latest album, the masterful "Red Dirt Girl" (Nonesuch), she's singing a different tune--her own.
Backed by her cohesive band Spyboy, Harris focused on the new material before a rapt crowd. New tunes such as the poetic "Michelangelo," with its strong influence from Carl Sandburg's poetry, are bound to become permanent fixtures in Harris' concert repertoire.
Another highlight, as well as another tune inspired by literature, was "My Antonia," a gorgeous ballad that shares a title with a Willa Cather novel. On the album Harris sings it as a duet with Dave Matthews, but in concert she shared the microphone with her brilliant longtime guitarist Buddy Miller. The mixture of Miller's sandpapery baritone and Harris' soaring soprano made for transcendent harmonies.
Miller was magnificent throughout the night, frequently switching stringed instruments to suit each song. For "I Don't Want to Talk About It Now," an ominous tale of romantic obsession, Miller coaxed yelps out of his Les Paul guitar, thanks to judicious use of a wah-wah pedal.
For the somber "Hour of Gold," he plucked the bouzouki (an eight-string guitar), and he occasionally played the 12-string mandoguitar. Far from using them for a novelty effect, Miller wove satisfying sonic soundscapes with each instrument he touched.
Although she's currently focused on songwriting, Harris certainly hasn't abandoned her throne as a grand interpreter of country-rock. Her rendition of Townes Van Zandt's "Pancho and Lefty" was infused with tremendous emotion. The entire band provided four-part harmonies for a show-stopping a capella rendition of Doyle Lawson's "Calling My Children Home."
Harris' cover versions were uniformly inspired, but her original material was delivered with more sheer passion. Harris--and the audience--reaped the rewards of her graduation from stellar stylist to accomplished composer.