September 28, 2000 (SF Chronicle)
James Sullivan, Chronicle Staff Critic
A low, humming note poured from the amplifiers at the Fillmore Tuesday. It took a moment to realize that it wasn't some hidden cello, but the glorious voice of Emmylou Harris.
Harris and her band had a full house spellbound. The veteran performer, a folk and country singer by training, has moved far beyond stylistic constraints with her most recent studio records, "Wrecking Ball" in 1995 and its long-awaited follow-up, "Red Dirt Girl."
An interpreter of other people's songs throughout her quarter-century career, Harris wrote most of the material for the new album. She has assembled an incredible band for this tour.
Buddy Miller would be a great honky-tonk act if he weren't so keenly aware of the murkier, more alluring possibilities of the electric guitar. New Orleans drummer Brady Blade played majestically, thumping his small kit American Indian-style, with mallets. And bassist Tony Hall, brand-new to the group, barely needed his sheet music, playing lines as slippery as mercury and leaving plenty of empty spaces.
Though the Fillmore has presented some country music in its day, it's far from Nashville's beaten path. "I love this place," said the silver- haired Harris, regal as ever, after the first number, the new album's lead track, "The Pearl."
"I love it here," she repeated after the second song, the simmering "I Don't Wanna Talk About It Now."
It's been a long while since the major labels have been interested in Harris, once one of country music's most familiar faces. Now she's 53, and middle age becomes her. With the help of producers Daniel Lanois (on "Wrecking Ball") and Malcolm Burn ("Red Dirt Girl"), she has created a brooding sound that teems with experience.
In a sleeveless black top and a satiny wine-colored skirt, Harris strummed a big acoustic guitar. Introducing "Poncho & Lefty," the great Townes Van Zandt tale that she made her own years ago, she praised Miller and his wife, Julie, who were the night's opening act and have been supporting Harris for some time now.
"I must have done something really great in my past life," Harris said. "I get to go on the road and play music, and I get to play with Buddy and Julie."
Her gratitude seemed genuine. A few minutes later, she said she felt as if someone could "take away your license" to make music at any time, and then she'd have to go back to the other thing she knew -- waiting tables.
With shows like Tuesday's, that's not likely. Julie Miller sang harmony on "My Baby Needs a Shepherd," the singers' "too-ra-loo-ras" linking traditional Irish music to the Appalachian Trail. Next, Harris sang Miller's song "All My Tears," one of the most moving on "Wrecking Ball."
Harris, a Greenwich Village folkie in her earliest performing days, was introduced to country music by Gram Parsons, onetime member of the Byrds, who made what he called "Cosmic American" music. Twenty- seven years after his death, Harris' own music might well be described that way.
On Tuesday she sang "Love Hurts," the longing ballad she and Parsons recorded as a duet. Of the lyrics, she said, "It's a no-brainer. If it didn't hurt, we'd be out of business."
The next song, "Hour of Gold," was dedicated to her parents, who had "one of the great marriages of all time." Rounding out an exquisite segment of the show, she did "Orphan Girl," the Gillian Welch song that was another highlight of "Wrecking Ball."
She sang another song associated with Parsons, the saloon-y "Wheels," and ended her regular set with Lanois' mystical "The Maker." As Blade and Hall played a brisk, very un-country funk-fusion jam, Harris and Buddy Miller stood in shadows at the side of the stage, sipping bottled water.
They returned for a brief encore, appropriately anchored by Steve Earle's "Goodbye."
"We'll remember this night for a long time," Harris said. Her audience will too. ..
E-mail James Sullivan at jamessullivan@sfchronicle.com.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 2000 SF Chronicle