Emmylou Harris has always been pretty “cool’” – a term that does not readily attach itself to many of her country and folk music contemporaries. This is largely due to her lifelong knack of associating with musical greatness; whether her early relationship with Gram Parsons (his death from a drug overdose in 1973 at the age of 27 colours her performances to this day), her collaborations with Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Linda Ronstadt and Willie Nelson, or her more recent choice of U2’s producer Daniel Lanois that marked a distinctive change of direction on her Grammy award-winning album Wrecking Ball, which she revisits to open this evening’s performance.
“Orphan Girl” demonstrates that Harris’s pure, breathy voice remains remarkably intact at the age of 64 and is followed by the title track from 2000’s self-penned album Red Dirt Girl. Clearly anyone hoping for a greatest hits package from an artist approaching the end of her career is in for a grave disappointment. Instead Harris reminds the audience that she has always been an unusually brave artist, eschewing the gaudy trappings of Nashville for a rare integrity, while allowing her band of grizzled old pros, the Red Dirt Boys, ample opportunities to shine on songs both new and old. These include a rousing and ever-popular “Luxury Liner”, which should perhaps have been saved for an encore, and Harris’ much-covered ballad “Boulder to Birmingham”, a love song to Parsons, who remains, she says, “the reason I am here”.
Between songs Harris, who is careful to engage with audience members sitting behind her as well as the packed house out front, is an adept storyteller, reminiscing about those she has loved (and often lost), her fellow musicians and a “Big Black Dog”, which proves she can be both charming and silly at the same time. But it is to hear her sing that people have come and Harris keeps the songs coming, 25 of them in a 90-minute show. The finest of these she sings by herself while her band takes a well-earned break. Strapping on a guitar she bought while at college in 1966, Harris sings “Prayer in Open D”, in a voice marinated in thistle honey. It’s undoubtedly a highlight in an evening full of them. This is followed by “My Name is Emmett Till”, a plea for tolerance sung in the first person voice of one of the most famous victims of racial prejudice in 1960s’ America. After being beaten, 14-year-old Till had his eyes gouged out before he was shot through the head and his body was thrown into the Tallahatchie River. His crime: daring to speak inappropriately to a white woman. Sadly, Harris’ delivery is understated to the point of incomprehension, perhaps her words are simply too terrible to be heard. After all this is a singer who has always sung protest songs quietly, from the heart.
On firmer ground, Harris treats us to Dylan’s “Every Grain of Sand”, as well as her own tribute to her late father, “Bang the Drum Slowly,” recalling an old cowboy lament. Her friend Kate McGarrigle’s “Talk to Me of Mendocino” is another highlight. Oddly, Harris chooses to bypass her 2003 album Stumble into Grace completely, a disappointing omission. Despite this and the mawkish indulgence of George Jones’ (and Tammy Wynettte’s) “Together Again”, Harris more than deserves her two encores, ending with a fine performance with Townes Van Zandt’s “Pancho and Lefty”. Although the pacing of this evening was slightly unsatisfactory, the voice of contemporary Americana remains a thing of breathtaking beauty. All that was missing was the smell of sawdust and a bottle of Bud.
