Concert Review: Willie Nelson at Summerfest, 6/27/19

There’s a line from Willie Nelson’s latest album, Ride Me Back Home, that goes “Time, you’re not fooling me / You’re something that I can’t kill.” He did not perform that particular song during his headlining set at the Marcus Amphitheater (I could give a shit about current corporate branding, but I don’t), but it was an apt descriptor of a Willie Nelson show in 2019.

Willie wasn’t bad, exactly, but the effects of his 86 (!) years on earth definitely showed. All of the songs seemed a step slower than even the last time I saw him, in 2017. His voice is still well-preserved as far as tone, but it didn’t have the oomph it once did. He let the crowd sing more than I remember, though to his credit he seemed genuinely happy every time they sang his own classic lines back at him. Also, for someone who famously sings behind the beat, he seemed more behind than usual.

Nelson’s guitar playing did not seem to suffer the same fate as his voice, His leads were just as jazzy and colorful as ever. At the same time, the guitar didn’t seem to drive the song as much as it once did. Mickey Raphael’s ever-soulful harmonica playing helped fill that void, however.

To top it all off, Willie Nelson and Family played a scant 60 minutes. They did manage to cram 20 songs into that timeframe, including all of the classics that will be played at every Willie show from here to the end of time -- “Whiskey River,” “On The Road Again,” “Always on My Mind” -- along with some newer material to close out the show, such as “It’s All Going to Pot” (which was dedicated to Merle Haggard), “Roll Me Up And Smoke Me When I Die,” and “Still Not Dead,” which is actually a great choice for his set closer.

Perhaps I’m burying the lede here, but the tone for the night was set hours before Willie Nelson even took the stage. Counting Crows, a band I was excited to see, played to maybe a ¼ full crowd. Though their playing seemed fine, and Adam Duritz’s voice also sounded fine, they did not seem to be into the show all that much. “Mr. Jones” should have killed, but its not-quite-the-album-version arrangement merely disappointed. It did not help that Adam Duritz appeared to have lived a lifetime of Long Decembers in the intervening years between peak stardom and now.

Next up was The Avett Brothers, who did not disappoint in their hourlong set. They have always left everything they have on the stage, and an opening slot for a festival-within-a-festival did not deter them from bringing the goods. 

Once upon a time, I thought that at the end of the world it would just be the cockroaches and Willie Nelson belting out “Good Hearted Woman.” That is no longer the case. But even though the amphitheater was half full at best, and the work night crowd was half-enthused for some songs, it was still a Willie Nelson show on a summer night by Lake Michigan, which is to say it was still pretty damn good. Time may be undefeated, but it will never change that.

Willie's Setlist

Whiskey River

Still Is Still Moving To Me

Beer for My Horses

Good Hearted Woman

Down Yonder

If You've Got The Money, I've Got The Time

Shoeshine Man

Instrumental Jam

On The Road Again

Jambalaya (Hank Williams Cover)

Hey Good Lookin' (Hank Williams cover)

Move It On Over (Hank Williams Cover)

My Favorite Picture Of You

Maybe I Should Have Been Listening When You Said Goodbye

It's Hard To Be Humble

Will The Circle Be Unbroken (W/Avett Brothers)

It's All Going To Pot

Roll Me Up And Smoke Me When I Die

Still Not Dead

The Year in Music

It used to be that at the end of every year, I’d devour every best-of music list I could get my eyes on. Finding new sounds that I hadn’t heard was exciting, and comparing my favorite records and songs to those of critics I respected was both fun and validating. But I’m older now. I have a son at home. I think I’m receptive to new sounds but it’s not nearly as important as it once was that I hear them. It doesn’t help that, as I’ve been saying for years, streaming as the main way to listen to music only makes it more disposable than ever. It also doesn’t help that everyone from Rolling Stone to Pitchfork and points in between have embraced the Poptimist movement to its fullest. I know it makes me a dinosaur, but I still (for the most part) need guitars in my music. Sorry, Cardi B, you might actually be great but I also don’t give a shit what your music sounds like.

Despite that bummery intro -- would I have it any other way? --  I still enjoyed music this year. I might not feel it as deeply and I might not seek it out as voraciously as I once did, but I still like it and I still have opinions on it. Instead of a top 10 albums list, I narrowed it down to three favorites: concert, song, and album.

Concert of the year:
Arcade Fire - Summerfest, Milwaukee, WI / The Smashing Pumpkins - The Sylvee, Madison, WI (tie)

I’ve already written about my experience seeing the Smashing Pumpkins, so I will write about Arcade Fire here.

I did not know what to expect when I went to see Arcade Fire this past summer. What I know about them as a live act is that they’ve been touring arenas and amphitheaters that they have mostly struggled to fill. I know that their last two records have been mostly disappointing. I also know that they have a tendency to be on the pretentious side. Needless to say, my expectations  were not very high.

I can honestly say they were met and exceeded.

Arcade Fire may not be able to fill venues full of people, but they absolutely fill it with sound. Whether it was their dance-inflected newer material or the earnest orchestral indie-pop of their first couple of LPs, I felt the music in my guts even in the cheap seats. (Side note: The cheap seats have always been and always will be my natural habitat at concerts. Viva la proletariat!)

Two images from that concert remain in my mind from that night.

One is of a middle-aged woman next to us who danced and danced throughout the show. She had the absolute time of her life, and all I could think is that I wish I could enjoy something as much as she enjoyed Arcade Fire. (This is also the genesis of something I might never be able to stop seeing, and that is of the middle-aged woman having something like a religious experience at a rock show. She was also at Foo Fighters and The Smashing Pumpkins.)

Two is that of Will Butler, multi-instrumentalist, totally banging the shit out of a drum like it was the only thing that mattered at the end of “Wake Up,” the last song of an exhausting two-hour set. I know it’s cliche -- it is a line from a Bob Seger song after all -- but he and his bandmates left every ounce of energy on the stage that night. I will not soon forget it.

Song of the year:

Eels - Today Is The Day

2018 was, quite honestly, fine for me. I have a wife, a kid (who mostly took up all of my time), a job, and a car. I am Denis Leary’s “Asshole” come to life. But despite things being just hunky dory in my own little bubble, I know that the world at large is actually kind of shitty. I don’t think I need to recount the ways in which the world is shit; just read a newspaper that isn’t owned by a rich right-winger or watch news that isn’t Fox News.

This is where “Today Is The Day” comes in. It is salve for a wounded soul. It says that not only can it get better, but that it will and we can to get to work on that right now. Mark Oliver Everett, who more or less IS Eels, actually has a knack for writing these types of songs. After reading and watching the worst humanity has to offer this past year, I am goddamn glad that he does.

Also receiving votes: Jeff Rosenstock - “Yr Throat,” King Tuff - “Psycho Star,” Wild Pink - “Lake Erie,” Father John Misty - “Mr. Tillman,” The Interrupters - “She’s Kerosene”

Album of the year:

Wild Pink - Yolk In The Fur

New sounds may have been harder to come by this year for me, but there were still albums that I enjoyed. Old masters with nothing left to prove - John Prine, Paul McCartney, and Willie Nelson -- all had fine efforts. The ladies of rock made their voices heard, in particular I liked albums by Mitski, Courtney Barnett, and Snail Mail. Indie rock stalwarts The Decemberists put out their best LP since 2006’s The Crane Wife.

But my vote goes to relative newcomers Wild Pink.

I preordered this LP based on teaser single “Lake Erie,” which made it kind of like old times. When it finally came in the mail, a week before street date, I might add, I was not disappointed.

The warm synths and keyboards remind me a little bit of Dire Straits, the guitars that cut through the poppiness are straight out of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Lead singer John Ross’s delicate vocals are reminiscent of, ugh, Chris Martin of Coldplay. Each song flows into the next, not unlike The Beatles’ Sgt Pepper. (comparisons end there, however)

It all adds up to a sound that may not be cutting edge, but it is a sound that I could not get enough of.

I should have more to say about my favorite album of the year, but I do not. It worked for me, but it may not work for you. I think that works as not just a statement on an album, but the year 2018 as a whole. Happy new year, and may it be better than the last.