If there was a sequel to “The Great American Songbook” it would probably contain several selections of melodies composed by Texas troubadour Lyle Lovett.
The guy is a living, breathing legend, taking the stage each evening for a night of melodic mischief, (somewhat) harmless fun in the midst of the idea that you never grow old or tired of adventure, a sense of curiosity always retained, in the presence of beautiful music, especially when performed live.
Sitting on the south patio at the prestigious Biltmore Estate (Asheville, North Carolina) this past Saturday, a sold-out audience of thousands watched in awe when Lovett took the stage, a hot and heavy Southern Appalachian sun falling behind the ancient, mysterious Blue Ridge Mountains.
With a horn section featuring members hailing from the signature “Muscle Shoals Sound” and iconic drummer Russ Kunkel behind the kit, Lovett hit the microphone equipped with a “Murderers’ Row” of talent known as “His Large Band.”
What’s interesting about Lovett is how the more you try to pinpoint who he is and what he sounds like, the more he eludes your interpretation. Perhaps originally pigeonholed as a country singer-songwriter in the 1980s, Lovett has spent the last few decades of his bountiful career going in any direction opposite of what record labels and fans might point towards.
And Lovett is part of a very small, elite circle of singer-songwriters, still wandering and making magic, who came of age in Nashville, Tennessee, in the 1970s and 1980s, who never sold themselves short in what they ultimately wanted to do, and be, in the music industry — independent, respected, never questioning their creative fulfillment in their daily endeavors. We’re talking names alongside Lovett like Marty Stuart, Emmylou Harris, John Prine, Jim Lauderdale, Bonnie Raitt, Robert Earl Keen, Rodney Crowell, and so forth.
In concert, Lovett has a wide vocal range, meandering from Tom Waits’ smoky lounge singer vibes to a dusty Midwestern roadhouse country star to a bandleader commanding a jazz ensemble in the basement of some beloved Manhattan club to a more polished Frank Sinatra Las Vegas strip crooner. And yet, even Sinatra couldn’t radiate such casual, mesmerizing professionalism onstage, where true beauty resides in the blemishes within a song, birthmarks on the melodic soul.
“His Large Band” acts like a cocoon around Lovett, slowly opening up as the performance evolves, where he eventually spreads his wings and takes flight, higher and higher into our conscious and subconscious memory — either from the past or the impending future, soon-to-be-present day — with each selection executed with precision.
Each song presented represents a decade, perhaps a genre of music, not played out of nostalgia, but more so an ode to the endless depths of American music, of the unbreakable American spirit that resides within those willing to take the torch and set the course for what will happen next. That vocal range of Lovett’s is as wide as his song catalog, and as wide as the age range of the crowd itself.
Gazing around the sea of listeners, one could see young kids joyously freaking out over hearing a beloved tune played nonstop on their parents’ stereo, their parents smiling down upon a shared experience only found in the presence of live music, or the die-hard Lovett veterans of middle and elderly ages, where it doesn’t matter if it’s your 23rd or 43rd or 123rd Lovett show — all that matters is that Lyle Lovett is in town, y’all better be there or be square.