Post by Doug on Aug 21, 2005 11:39:45 GMT -5
A nice write-up from Thursday's performance.
Krauss' angelic tunes a sweet salve from a week of anguish
BY CHRIS SHULL
The Wichita Eagle
There was never a better time for Alison Krauss to come to Wichita.
After two days of televised trauma from the Sedgwick County courthouse, just over 2,500 people got sweet relief Thursday night at the Kansas Coliseum in the form of Krauss and her bluegrass band, Union Station.
Never have the simple hassles and heartaches of life seemed so pure. With tight harmonies and a twang, the acoustic band -- with a drummer sometimes added to the regular Union Station quintet -- sang and played nonstop for two hours.
Krauss related sad songs about good-hearted folks who live with their mistakes, are bittersweet about bad decisions, and who can smile through the tears as that special person walks away.
After the selfish pretense and impossible trauma Wichita has witnessed over the last two days, the concert was a blessing.
How nice to be immersed in great music made by a great artist. How nice to drift away into real melancholy, the cathartic kind about heartache, loneliness and the pureness of the soul that comes from recognizing weakness and growing from it.
Krauss sang about all those things, and conveyed the easy strength that comes from giving selflessly of herself to her audience.
Besides Krauss on lead vocals and fiddle, Union Station featured Jerry Douglas on dobro, Dan Tyminski on guitar and mandolin; Ron Block on banjo and guitar; and Barry Bales on bass.
They've played together for years, and were performing the final concert of a three-week tour in support of the new Union Station CD, "Lonely Runs Both Ways." After driving to Nashville today, the band has about a week off before heading to Europe in September.
The Kansas Coliseum was draped-off halfway, making for an intimate space that nicely contained the band, and which Krauss used effectively.
Between numbers she gossiped lazily about bad old movies and afternoon TV. She told long stories to introduce each member of the band.
She got a warm response when she recalled her days playing the Walnut Valley Festival, drawing laughs remembering her parents' horror when she pulled her long sleeve over a smoked turkey leg so it looked like she was gnawing on her hand -- but not mentioning she was the fiddle champion at the bluegrass festival in 1984, nor that she was a featured performer there in 1988, '91 and '93.
Krauss' bright, pure, reedy voice slotted in precisely around the ensemble's harmonies, and tunes like "Forget About It" and "Every Time You Say Goodbye" from earlier albums, and "Good-bye Is All We Have" and "Restless" from the current one bounced along with grace and precision.
By about the 10th song, Krauss told the story about how she discovered an early song written by Michael McDonald, "It Don't Matter Now," and how since it was a sad song, she should surely record it.
"We don't want anybody listening to us feeling good," she joked to the audience.
But when Krauss sings sad songs, we somehow do. And after all the courtroom horror of the past two days, her singing on Thursday helped carry us away from the pain.
Source: www.kansas.com/mld/kansas/entertainment/12421805.htm
Krauss' angelic tunes a sweet salve from a week of anguish
BY CHRIS SHULL
The Wichita Eagle
There was never a better time for Alison Krauss to come to Wichita.
After two days of televised trauma from the Sedgwick County courthouse, just over 2,500 people got sweet relief Thursday night at the Kansas Coliseum in the form of Krauss and her bluegrass band, Union Station.
Never have the simple hassles and heartaches of life seemed so pure. With tight harmonies and a twang, the acoustic band -- with a drummer sometimes added to the regular Union Station quintet -- sang and played nonstop for two hours.
Krauss related sad songs about good-hearted folks who live with their mistakes, are bittersweet about bad decisions, and who can smile through the tears as that special person walks away.
After the selfish pretense and impossible trauma Wichita has witnessed over the last two days, the concert was a blessing.
How nice to be immersed in great music made by a great artist. How nice to drift away into real melancholy, the cathartic kind about heartache, loneliness and the pureness of the soul that comes from recognizing weakness and growing from it.
Krauss sang about all those things, and conveyed the easy strength that comes from giving selflessly of herself to her audience.
Besides Krauss on lead vocals and fiddle, Union Station featured Jerry Douglas on dobro, Dan Tyminski on guitar and mandolin; Ron Block on banjo and guitar; and Barry Bales on bass.
They've played together for years, and were performing the final concert of a three-week tour in support of the new Union Station CD, "Lonely Runs Both Ways." After driving to Nashville today, the band has about a week off before heading to Europe in September.
The Kansas Coliseum was draped-off halfway, making for an intimate space that nicely contained the band, and which Krauss used effectively.
Between numbers she gossiped lazily about bad old movies and afternoon TV. She told long stories to introduce each member of the band.
She got a warm response when she recalled her days playing the Walnut Valley Festival, drawing laughs remembering her parents' horror when she pulled her long sleeve over a smoked turkey leg so it looked like she was gnawing on her hand -- but not mentioning she was the fiddle champion at the bluegrass festival in 1984, nor that she was a featured performer there in 1988, '91 and '93.
Krauss' bright, pure, reedy voice slotted in precisely around the ensemble's harmonies, and tunes like "Forget About It" and "Every Time You Say Goodbye" from earlier albums, and "Good-bye Is All We Have" and "Restless" from the current one bounced along with grace and precision.
By about the 10th song, Krauss told the story about how she discovered an early song written by Michael McDonald, "It Don't Matter Now," and how since it was a sad song, she should surely record it.
"We don't want anybody listening to us feeling good," she joked to the audience.
But when Krauss sings sad songs, we somehow do. And after all the courtroom horror of the past two days, her singing on Thursday helped carry us away from the pain.
Source: www.kansas.com/mld/kansas/entertainment/12421805.htm