Each singer performed a 20 minute solo set to start the evening, interspersing their songs with dry humor and witty asides that were nearly as interesting as the music itself. Robert Earl Keen tested out some new material from The Rose Hotel, starting his set with “10,000 Chinese Walk Into A Bar,” but the song that got the biggest crowd response in the form of slurred singalong was “Merry Christmas From The Family,” a song that Keen states he performs from Labor Day to Easter, unless, of course, he forgets to pick up a new Day-Timer.

He was followed by Bruce Robison, who introduced “Travelin’ Soldier,” a song he wrote around the time of the Persian Gulf War, by referring to it as the “fastest descending Number One” in the history of the Billboard charts (the Dixie Chicks’ version was #1 when Natalie Maines made her infamous comments about then-President Bush in 2003). For Robison, his set was a family affair; after discussing that hit from his “sister-in-law’s band,” he segued into “My Brother and Me.” Robert Earl Keen may have been the initial draw, but after Bruce’s set, everyone in the room was a fan, even if, as I heard some concertgoers profess in the parking lot, they’d never heard of “those other guys.”

After Robison’s four songs, Todd Snider took the stage with his trademark sense of humor, identifying “Money, Compliments, Publicity (Song Number Ten)” a song he began writing only to round out The Excitement Plan, but realized halfway through, “shit, you’ve sunk to the bottom, brother: that’s how they make country music.” But Snider’s nothing if not a country singer and master songwriter as the rest of his material, including “Sideshow Blues,” “D.B. Cooper,” and “Beer Run” proved.

After a brief intermission, the three returned and spent the next hour trading songs and cracking each other—and the audience—up. The music was great, but the real treat was watching Keen, Robison, and Snider interact. They obviously have the utmost respect for each other’s music, but they genuinely seem to be fans of one another, as Todd Snider sang along to “Angry All the Time,” bursting into applause after the first verse and Bruce Robison laughed right along with the audience at Keen’s “Village Inn,” a song whose lyrics were allegedly stolen from a hotel’s marquis: “The Village Inn Hotel is so affordable…free WiFi…HBO.” I got the feeling that they’d probably be doing the same things (drinking beer, swapping songs, telling stories) even if they weren’t on tour.

One of the evening’s highlights was Robert and Todd collaborating on Keen’s “Corpus Christi Bay” (which Snider covered on The Excitement Plan, but the biggest crowd pleaser of the night was “The Road Goes on Forever,” a perfect song with which to end the set. However, I must admit that I wish they played it earlier, if only to shut up the loaded frat boy who shouted “‘Road Goes on Forever,’ man!” after every single Keen song. They encored with a trio of songs, officially ending with Keen’s version of the Townes Van Zandt song “Snowin’ on Raton,” which he covered back in 2001 on Gravitational Forces.

At $50, tickets may be a little pricey, but it sure felt like everyone got their money’s worth. Come to think of it, it might be worth $50 just to hear Bruce Robison describe his methods of courtship, which involve a mixture of “stalking and sexual harassment.” As for the story about George Strait’s manager and his Big Gulp cup filled with scotch…well, you had to be there.

Matraca Berg looks like a country singer. She’s slim and pretty. When she speaks, it’s with a strong Kentucky drawl. The boys would gush over her and the girls would all want to be her. But that’s not what Berg is. She’s a songwriter—and a good one at that.

So good, that she was picked to participate in the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum’s quarterly Poets and Prophets series which highlights legendary song-crafters. During the program, Berg and interviewer Michael Gray traced her career from an underage shot of tequila courtesy of Harlan Howard to her first Grammy nomination.

Berg came from a musical family—so it’s no wonder that she wrote her first song at age four. Her mother, Icie, was a Nashville hopeful whose dreams never really materialized. Even though Icie didn’t make it big, she did help influence Matraca. Sounds of Dolly Parton, Bobbi Gentry, and others filled the house where Matraca grew up.

“I was inspired by my mother’s love for song and songwriting,” said Berg. Her voice cracked and she took extended pauses when she spoke of her mother. Icie died in 1985 at the age of 40.

Despite her mother’s warning about the hardships of the music business, Berg was determined. She jumped head first into the Nashville scene—where she met Harlan Howard at 18. Berg distinctly remember Howard buying her first ever shot of tequila. (They didn’t end up writing a song together until the 1990’s.)
Berg kept writing and networking. The hard work eventually paid off. She got her first #1 with “Faking Love” by Karen Brooks and T.G. Sheppard in 1983 at age 19. The song was a co-write with the legendary Bobby Braddock, who was just fresh off of “He Stopped Loving Her Today.”

Even with a solid hit under her belt, Nashville still wasn’t exactly knocking down Berg’s door.

“They thought I was sleeping with Bobby!” said Berg with a laugh.

But she proved to be no fluke after Reba McEntire cut “Last One to Know” and took it to #1 in 1987. Berg had made her name known, and not surprisingly, she was offered a record deal in 1989. Her first album, Lying to the Moon, was released and she was booked an opener on Clint Black’s tour with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. It was there that she met future husband, Jeff Hanna.

Even though she had found love on tour, the performances and publicity were just too much to handle. She personally didn’t think she was recording material—not to mention she had terrible stage fright.

“It feels like I shouldn’t be here,” Berg remembered thinking. “Waylon once said that singer-songwriters are introverts living in an extrovert world.” The extrovert world wasn’t for her. So, finally she went to Pat Higdon, her publisher, and said “Just pitch’em all.” Hits by Martina McBride and Trisha Yearwood followed.

She had run into a short creative drought in 1996 when she came to fellow songwriting buddy Greg Harrison with the idea for an autobiographical tune about a summer she spent on her uncle’s farm in Wisconsin. “Strawberry Wine” was born and was named the CMA Song of the Year in 1997.

While the cuts kept coming, it wasn’t until 2005 that Berg got a Grammy nomination with Gretchen Wilson’s “I Don’t Feel Like Loving You Today.”

Recently, Berg has been on the Wine, Women, & Song tour in the UK with old friends Suzy Bogguss and Gretchen Peters. She also has an album recorded that she plans on releasing before the year’s end.

“I’m really happy with it,” said Berg. “There was no producer to tell me how to sound.”

After the interview, Berg sheepishly but gracefully walked over to a piano and sat down to play “Dreaming Fields”—a beautiful cut from Yearwood’s most recent album. Before playing, she apologized for her lack of practice that week—but she still knocked it out of the park. “Wrong Side of Memphis” on the guitar and harmonica followed—and still not one ounce of over-confidence or ungratefulness was exuded from the stage.

The title of “Poet and Prophet” couldn’t have been more fitting.

Thanks to my handy geographic location here in Los Angeles, the brothers Vercher once again dispatched me to Indio to chronicle the goings on at Southern California’s only major country music event. I was totally ready for two days of country music madness accompanied by my pal and trusty photographer Mr. Rob Black (who plays bass in the Los Angeles honky tonk band West of Texas) but events conspired against us to shorten my recap of day one considerably.

Day 1

My day one recap will take the form of conversation I had with Mr. Black upon approaching the festival grounds.

“Man, after that long and crazy trip we’re finally approaching the festival grounds, hey Black, roll down the window will you, lets see if we can hear who’s playing right now.”
*Black rolls down the window*
“I think that’s Reba, Ben.”
“Hmmm…that means that after parking, the long walk, picking up the tickets at will call, and walking to the Mane Stage, we’ll probably only catch one or two Reba songs and then Brad Paisley’s set.”
“yup”
*pause*
“Brad Paisley sucks man. I’m still mad at him for making me suffer through Play, I hated that record. In fact, I was borderline personally offended by that record.”
“Yeah dude, that album was really terrible.”
“Let’s just go tomorrow.”
“Sounds good to me.”

So we retreated, confident that we wouldn’t miss anything except another opportunity for me to malign Brad Paisley, which I was confident I could work into my recap anyhow (and without the walking and having to battle the crowd.) It was a strong decision.

Day 2

It was a hot and stale Budweiser sort of day as we entered the festival to the sound of the Zac Brown Band crooning that the “muchachas call him Big Poppa,” but we had no time for his bearded, UB40-esque take on “country” music as we had to check out the ghost of pop-rock country past: The Pure Prairie League.

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9:43 – Brady: Itinerary: check
Cell phone: check
Notepad: check
Camera: check
Money: ouch (free is the word of the day)

10:21 – Brady: And I’m on my way…

10:31 – Brady: Well, I didn’t make it far. Gas light came on, so I’m makin’ a pit stop. Cruisin’ to some JT Earle this morning.

10:58 – Brady: Rodney Hayden finished off the trip. Everyone should go check out “Silverado Boys.” It’s required listening.

11:04 – Brady: Holy schnikees, a $5.25 ATM fee! I’ll just buy a taco and get some change for parking. There goes free…

11:48 – Brady: Missed the first show, but I made it to Fado Irish Pub to catch David Serby and get some leftover green beer.

12:05 – Brady: Must be the green beer keeping everyone away this afternoon. Not many people in the pub.

12:18 – Brady: Talked to David a bit and got a copy of his new CD. He digs the site! Go check him out on Myspace if you like straight up honky-tonk with a lot of twang.

12:24 – Brady: Oh, and he’s a super nice dude.

12:42 – Brady: David just finished up a few songs inside and Gurf Morlix is starting up outside. The place filled up once David started. He tells me he was gonna take SXSW off this year, but came out for this one show. Glad I caught him while he was in Austin.

12:48 – Brady: Morlix’s album has been on my ‘check out’ list. I’ll have to bump it up after hearing a couple of great songs live.

13:11 – Brady: Discovered Dave Insley last week and just met him. I plan on catching one of his shows later this week.

13:15 – Brady: Ditchin’ the pub and walkin’ a couple blocks to Opal Divine’s to catch a little Charlie Shafter and Darryl Lee Rush.

13:43 – Brady: Lost Immigrants are playing instead of Charlie Shafter and the Gnomes. Dunno why, but cool! What is ‘baptized by Texas’ supposed to mean, though?

13:51 – Brady: And why isn’t the lead singer an old guy like the one on their first CD cover?

13:56 – Brady: DLR just jumped on stage to help finish of the Lost Immigrants set with “Judgment Day.” It sounded pretty dang cool.

14:10 – Brady: DLR is sounding good. Just so y’all know, he’ll be in the next episode of our podcast, which is hosted by the famous Kelly Dearmore. Look for it in the next few days.

14:17 – Brady: 80 degrees in March. I got to walk 10 blocks to catch Joe Pug at Paradise. Sucks! Anyone out there in The 9513 land?

14:19 – Brady: Greenpeace wanted me to help them save the planet.

14:47 – Brady: Finally made it to the HearYa party billed as the ‘Stimulus Package’ at Paradise. Waitin’ for Joe Pug. He’s not country, but totally worth checking out. Listen to “Hymn 101.”

14:53 – Brady: They’re raffling off tennis shoes???

15:27 – Brady: Pug is still on and he’s awesome. That’s all I got to say about that. Paradise has a pretty nice listening room upstairs.

15:55 – Brady: Went downstairs to grab a bite and wait for Justin Townes Earle. Kinda weird to hear them playing Randy Travis, Tim McGraw, and Willie and the Wheel downstairs from the folkie Chicago stuff.

16:18 – Brady: JT Earle just came sauntering through with his guitar, banjo, and mandolin. Can such a tall, lanky dude do much more than saunter?

17:45 – Brady: Had connection issues during Earle’s set, which is prolly a good thing because of the sound issues. Sound guy finally worked it out and Earle and Cory Younts put on a great show. They pulled out a killer song that was too new for the latest album and even threw in a Carter Family cover.

18:10 – Brody: Finally made it downtown to join Brady for some Hayes Carll. Everybody is wearing suits. It feels like prom.

19:42 – Brady: Caught Hayes Carll at a gig for the state music agency something or the other. Kind of a weird gig, but he put on a rockin’ show. It was probably smart that he didn’t play “She Left Me For Jesus” for the governor.

19:58 – Brady: We made our way over to Waterloo Icehouse in time to catch the end of another DLR set. Lots of acts are playing in multiple places throughout the day.

20:08 – Brady: Talked to a nice feller from UMG and he said they wanted to get Jamey Johnson to SXSW but he had too much goin on back east. Too bad, I would have paid good money to see that show.

20:06 – Brody: Darryl Lee Rush just got a standing ovation after leaving the stage to perform “I Believe In the Sun” in the audience sans mic. The band backed him with hand claps. Very cool. Two Tons of Steel up next.

20:47 – Brady: The DLR deal was easily the coolest moment of the day. It wasn’t something you’d expect to see at SXSW.

20:48 – Brady: Two Tons of Steel is up now. They hail from San Antonio, TX and bill themselves as countrybilly. Buddy Holly’s influence is readily apparent.

21:50 – Brady: Well, that about does it for today. Still some great music going on, but we took off to see Corb Lund at Threadgill’s and the schedule was different, so we called it a night. Hope you guys enjoyed the updates. Let us know if you’d like to see more events covered this way or if there’s anything we can do to improve the experience.

Sandwiched in the shadow of two big buildings on the intersection between 5th and Commerce Street in downtown Nashville, Jamey Johnson wowed a crowd of close to a thousand people with his undeniably-country anthems (and free hot dogs).

The midday show was part of the Country Radio Seminar—an annual event that allows artists to kiss the proverbial posteriors of their biggest promoters. But there was no ass-kissing in Johnson’s performance—not even one acknowledgment, much less a “thank you,” to the radio crowd in attendance.

“In Color” was a hit for Johnson, and not surprisingly so–a sentimental story about a grandfather reliving and relaying his life through pictures is a predictable hit.

But how will radio respond to “High Cost of Living” and the infamous “cocaine and a whore”?

“I think it works out great. It’s real country and that’s what it’s all about,” said Eddie Ybarra from WBFM in Sheboygan, WI. “In the end, no one can really complain because it’s teaching positives. It’s needed (on country radio).”

On his small station in Sheboygan, Ybarra has been spinning the track daily and getting good reviews.

“In our market, they complain if they don’t like something. And not a single complaint,” said Ybarra.

“I just think a lot of PD’s out there are leaning towards the top-40 side of radio. They’re a little scared, but I have no problem with it.”

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It may sound like the beginning of a bad joke, but on a cold, rainy Saturday night in Washington, DC, Kristofferson played to a packed house of worship: the historic Sixth & I Synagogue located in the heart of gentrified Chinatown.

At 72 years old, Kristofferson can still captivate an audience with just guitar, harmonica, and the power of his words. A bit under the weather—at one point he remarked to the audience that we “paid a lot of money to watch an old fart blow his nose”—he played for nearly two hours; aside from a brief intermission, there was hardly a break between songs. His gravelly voice didn’t miss a note, though there were a couple forgotten lyrics along the way. However, he easily glossed over these moments with a dash of his movie star charm and humor, and the audience—acting a bit too rowdy for such a venue—ate it up.

Kristofferson’s “left of liberal” political views were evident from the very first song of the show, “Shipwrecked in the 80s,” which he dedicated to veterans of Iraq and Vietnam protesting the war. The crowd (mostly aged hippies, if their reaction to all mentions of peace and/or getting stoned is anything to go by) responded with thunderous applause the second the final chords of each song were strummed.

With the exception of “Why Me,” Kristofferson played all the songs he’s known for, as well as quite a few of his lesser-known masterpieces including “Johnny Lobo,” “They Killed Him,” “Heart,” “To Beat the Devil,” and “The Promise,” which he introduced as “a song I wrote for my kids…and their mamas.” At times it seemed almost like I was at an intimate poetry reading–such is the skill with which Kristofferson crafts his songs. There’s never a word out of place, and the lyrics are stunning both for their simplicity and the complex emotions they invoke.

From his songs to his between-song banter, Kris Kristofferson is a storyteller in the best sense of the word. And before the show started, I got a brief insight into the long road he’s traveled to get to this point. I was seated next to a lovely woman named Barbara, who happened to be close friends with Edward Weismiller, a remarkable poet and Rhodes Scholar who was Kris Kristofferson’s creative writing professor at Pomona College fifty-some years ago. He’s the man who was partly responsible for Kristofferson’s Rhodes Scholarship. What’s more, Weismiller has said that of all the students he taught through the years, young Kris was the only one who would read his professor’s comments and rewrite his work.

Impressive, yes, but here’s the important part of this little tangent: a story that epitomizes the type of man Kris Kristofferson is. Barbara managed to get an audience on Kristofferson’s bus by mentioning Weismiller’s name. Upon hearing that the two were friends, Kristofferson asked for Weismiller’s phone number and proceeded to call him then and there; he would have visited too, if he didn’t have to be in another city by morning. After hearing “Casey’s Last Ride,” which Kristofferson dedicated to his old mentor (now 93, blind, but still sharp as a tack), it’s clear that he learned quite a bit reading the comments left on his undergraduate stories.

If I had to describe my religious standing in one word, it would probably be “fallen.” But sitting in those uncomfortable pews, listening to America’s greatest poet sing of social justice, peace, and loving one another, I can’t recall an instance in which I felt more spiritual.

Technical problems (including an amp blown by Yoakam during sound check) caused the long delay, and by the time the artists finally took the stage the audience was overly anxious to see how the three stylistically divergent singers would mesh.

From the onset, DeGraw and Yoakam had immediate chemistry and were easily more comfortable than their female counterpart. The pair acted like old friends, which, Yoakam explained, they are. The country legend attended one of DeGraw’s shows in California, and they have stayed in touch since. While recounting their first backstage encounter, Yoakam quipped, “You are a texting fool, too.”

“Can we move him?” DeGraw fired back.

While the between-song banter was fun and natural, the music was the real highlight of the evening. The Legends and Lyrics show is intended to draw attention to the art of crafting a song, but the real connection between Lee, DeGraw and Yoakam was in their respective unique vocal styles. Lee’s dark, haunting emotional whisper—backed by a stunning cellist—was truly chilling. Combine that with DeGraw’s rangy soulful pop pipes and Yoakam’s signature hillbilly holler and you’ve got yourself some highly distinctive voices.

DeGraw’s mostly stuck to the piano for his share of lead time, playing radio hits “I Don’t Want to Be” and “In Love With a Girl.” From a country viewpoint, the soulful runs in his voice could be compared to the vocal alterations of Sugarland’s Jennifer Nettles. Anyhow, DeGraw showed that he was an extraordinary talent with a truly charming character—the guy’s likeability is off the charts.

Unlike DeGraw, who maintains a regular performance schedule, Lee hadn’t done a live show in over a year and was admittedly out of her comfort zone, even having to re-do two songs because of miscues. She mostly stuck to single releases, including “Bring Me To Life,” “Good Enough,” and “Lithium.” Lee was respectful to both Yoakam and DeGraw, but claimed that she had never done an in-the-round style show—she was clearly a little sheepish.

The hardest part for Lee undoubtedly was following Yoakam—she even stated “I think I just got schooled,” after he finished his first selection. Of the three artists, Yoakam had the deepest catalog by far, but didn’t limit his set to hits. For his first song, he went back to 1990 with a stirring rendition of “If There Was a Way,” an cut that gets lost among the four top 10 singles from the album of the same name.

But the show wasn’t all thoughtful ballads—Yoakam brought along a stand-up bass and a lead electric guitar, which seemed a little out-of-place in a “stripped down” performance. Nonetheless, Yoakam did some rockin’, and it was clear how he had blown out an amp. DeGraw and Lee watched in amazement as Yoakam jolted the room with energy during “Guitars, Cadillacs,” while “A Thousand Miles From Nowhere” and “Please, Please Baby” also took on uptempo beats that found Yoakam standing up from his obligatory chair and giving a few signature heel turns and hip gyrations.

For the last song in the show, Yoakam dug deep into his catalog again, pulling out a song that—as a songwriter—he said he was the fondest of. “Dreams of Clay” was another album gem of an album cut (from the 2000 disc Tomorrow’s Sounds Today) and really stood out as the best song of the evening.

Yoakam slowed the song down considerably from the album version, beautifully accentuating each syllable.

As the night came to a close—at around 12:30 a.m.—Yoakam, DeGraw and Lee all came to center stage to take a bow and wrap up the taping. While all the artists showed that they were extraordinarily talented, Yoakam left no doubt as to who was the legend in the room.

Editor’s Note: Legends & Lyrics is taped by Song-Writers in the Round and distributed by American Public Television. Check the website LegendsandLyrics.com, call your local public TV station or check local listings to find out when the show is airing in your area.

Maybe it was my very visible yawn during her performance of “Bring Me Down” that brought her down, but someone should remind the 25 year-old Texan that it’s her job to make sure the crowd is having fun, not the other way around.

Like festival audiences, theme park audiences are almost always difficult to excite—there are too many distractions and too much of a nagging desire to make sure you get the most out of your $69 park ticket. At that price, a person could hardly be blamed for drifting away after a few songs (even in spite of the surprisingly cozy and well-designed nature of the venue)–especially with the monstrous roller coaster SheiKra (which plunges riders 200 feet face-down) towering in the background.

What’s more, Lambert seemingly failed to recognize that by the time she took the stage at 4 PM, most of the crowd had spent the entire day riding rides and traversing the 335-acre park.

It wasn’t that Lambert’s performance was especially unexciting—to the contrary, she exhibited great command of the stage and a significant growth in confidence when compared to performances earlier in her career. In fact, halfway through her aching, stirring cover of John Prine’s “Angel from Montgomery,” it struck me that Lambert is one of the few artists to emerge this decade who not only has a firm grasp on the direction of her career, but also the talent to achieve whatever goals she sets for herself.

Though I’ve been critical of Lambert in the past, it is becoming ever more evident to me that her potential is enormous.

But her Tampa show, a 17-song set almost exclusively derived from the material contained on her first two studio albums, was predictable and too loud, incredibly well-performed but lacking any sense of spontaneity or any defining moments. Opening with “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” and closing with “Kerosene,” with a short, acoustic-driven set of “Easy From Now On,” “Desperately” and “More Like Her” spliced into the middle, it was, more or less, a paint-by-numbers show (in actuality, the exact same set she has been performing for months).

Like the audience, Lambert’s band looked like disinterested observers; especially mowhawked bassist Aden Bubeck, who rarely moved downstage, instead spending the show merrily bobbing his head in the background, seemingly disconnected from the concert going on around him.

On the whole, Lambert’s performance was the most controlled I’ve seen from her yet—she managed to keep her previously insatiable head-banging to minimum for most of the first half of the show, though she occasionally slipped into hair-metal mode during a number of the set’s apparently obligatory instrumental jams.

There were a lot of those. Lambert’s performance on Sunday was aggressive and hardly country, with even the arrangements of her most sensitive ballads fleshed out by a full-on rock sound. Sometimes it worked for the fiery singer, like on a commanding performance of “Gunpowder and Lead,” the only time during her set that she looked completely at ease, able to fully unleash the wild-child within. Most of the time, however, her rockerness looked and sounded out of sync with her material. Possessing one of country music’s most emotionally penetrating voices, Lambert seems like a chick rock star stuck in the body of a honky tonk angel.

Lambert’s stage presence has grown by leaps and bounds since the release of Kerosene, and her show was entertaining if not life changing—indeed, a nice addition to a day at Busch Gardens, though not yet compelling enough to establish her as a top-tier live act.

Anticipation was high among those standing in the line that stretched around the block to find out who the “VERY special guest” to perform with Asleep at the Wheel would be on Saturday (2/7) evening at Antone’s. Word had leaked that a collaborator on the group’s recent album, Willie and the Wheel, would show up and a few wore their braids in hopes of catching the red-headed stranger.

However, there would be no Willie sightings and the special guest must have been the Grammy winning and legendary pianist Floyd Domino, wearing his cowboy hat and playing keyboard.

Antone’s–Austin’s House of Blues–is the oldest club on the city’s infamous 6th street. It was opened in 1975 as a blues club, hosting notables like B.B. King, Buddy Guy, and Stevie Ray Vaughan. By no means is it a large venue, but a few hundred people crowded together elbow-to-elbow in the standing-room only venue.

With a ten piece band, it was nearly as crowded on the stage. Ray Benson (electric guitar), Jason Roberts (fiddle/mandolin), and Elizabeth McQueen (rhythm guitar) traded vocals and were joined by band members Eddie Rivers (steel guitar), Ruby Jane Smith (fiddle), David Miller/Kevin Smith (bass), Shamarr Allen (trumpet/trombone), John Doyle (saxophone/clarinet), and David Sanger (drums). Floyd Domino was, of course, on keyboard.

Asleep at the Wheel opened the show with “Miles and Miles of Texas” and set the tone for the rest of the night with one toe tappin’, leg shakin’ number after another.

They ran through “Black and White Rag” and “Choo Choo Ch’Boogie” before Elizabeth McQueen stepped to the microphone and announced that it was her first show since giving birth and that she might not make it through the next song without crying. True to her word, she was on the verge of tears at times, but donned a glowing smile as she sang a moving version of “What a Wonderful World.”

The group played every song on their new album and then some. They performed a particularly impressive rendition of Willie’s “Back to Earth,” then followed it with “Pancho and Lefty.” Before leaving the stage, they had the crowd singing along to “Big Ball’s in Cowtown” and came back for an encore with “Right or Wrong” and finally closed the show for good with “On the Road Again.”

There was little stage banter during the two hours, just a whole lot of superb musicianship on full display. It truly was a feast for the eyes as well as the ears and every member got their chance to shine with multiple solos throughout the night. Their show comes highly recommended if they pass your way–even moreso if Willie is scheduled to join them.

Check out the Willie and the Wheel website for more information and tour dates and be sure to tune into Austin City Limits on February 23 if you’re not able to catch a show. To preview tracks from the album, visit Asleep at the Wheel’s MySpace profile.

Half an hour before Vince Gill went on stage for his first of three sold out artist-in-residence shows, people were milling about in the dimly lit lobby of the Country Music Hall of Fame—everyone from heavy-coated slightly-grayed businessmen to a regular guy in a VFW ball cap to a shapely young brunette.

It was a true mix of individuals—and a true testament to the far-reaching impact of Gill’s artistry.

The setting for the night was simple. No set list, no plan, and “take whatever comes down the road,” according to Gill.

Backed by a piano, rhythm box and bass, Gill spent the night singing, playing, and storytelling his way through all his biggest hits and a few “gem” album cuts.

“Don’t Let Our Love Start Slippin’ Away,” “One More Last Chance,” and “Liza Jane” were all delivered with Gill’s signature swagger, but the true crowd pleaser came with Gill’s solo version of a Notorious Cherry Bombs hit.

“It’s Hard To Kiss The Lips At Night (That Chew My Ass Out All Day Long),” which was inspired by Gill’s roughneck father, had the whole crowd laughing—and it’s no surprise that mostly men participated when Gill suggested a sing-along.

While light-hearted fare certainly plays a role in Gill’s catalog, it is obviously the ballads that have defined his career. “When I Call Your Name,” “Look At Us,” and “When Love Finds You,” were highlights of the evening, showcasing Gill’s unique tenor.

However, none of those topped “Go Rest High On That Mountain”—Gill’s delicate delivery had the whole audience wiping their eyes.

Gill is known as a master collaborator, and he expectedly invited a few friends out of the crowd to join him. Ace songwriter Danny Flowers jumped up for a rousing rendition of his signature hit “Tulsa Time.” Flowers’ soulful, raspy voice was a far departure from Gill’s tenor, but it was perfectly fitted for the tune.

Gill’s other guest, Jimmy Fortune, wasn’t such a departure. Fortune, who sang tenor for the legendary Statler Brothers, took the lead on the Statlers’ #1 hit “Elizabeth” as Gill backed him on guitar.

Fortune also enhanced the show by requesting Gill to play “Kindly Keep It Country,” a somewhat overlooked song that definitely seems to resonate even more now than it did in 1998, maybe in a different way.

Gill wrapped the show with an encore of “Never Knew Lonely,” “Pocket Full Of Gold,” and “Oklahoma Borderline.”

Overall, the show was a great dissection of Gill’s career and the sparse arrangements of the songs truly let Gill’s talents go unadulterated.

The photo used in this story is from a previous Gill performance at the Country Music Hall of Fame.