Show Review

I was listening to Steve Earle’s radio show the other day, and to my delight, he had a few things to say about Patty Griffin. Earle, talking about his past performances for "Concerts for a Landmine Free World," said that in all his years as a part of the tour, which featured the likes of Emmylou Harris and Nanci Griffith, that no one wanted to follow Griffin in the order of appearance. Funny enough, Earle said, that it was always he who was chosen for that “honor,” and he dreaded every second of it. Imagine the power of Patty Griffin—strong enough to scare the death out of Steve Earle!

If you have been a fan of Griffin’s music for her entire career, you probably already know that she is an amazing musician, one talented enough to write songs like “Goodbye” and “Rain.” Unfortunately, many have only heard of her through the Dixie Chicks, who have covered songs like “Truth #2” and “Top of the World.” Nothing against the Dixie Chicks, but hearing the latter performed live by Griffin is kind of like going to see Neil Young for the first time and realizing that Eddie Vedder didn’t write “Rockin’ in the Free World.” Sometimes it is so much sweeter to hear a song coming from its original source.

Originality is what fuels Patty Griffin and her live performance. What her shows lack in quantity (she only played about 80 minutes), she delivers in quality: each note that comes from her lungs, if not perfect, strives for a uniqueness that no one can attempt to cover. Mostly performing tunes from her 2004 release Impossible Dream, Griffin was productive for every second, even when she talked about how bad the St. Louis Cardinals played in the 2004 World Series. Griffin, who grew up in Boston, probably not knowing how huge a baseball town St. Louis is, noted that the Cardinals “just didn’t show up.” Probably not a way to make a new friend or two from the Midwest, but it was the truth—and that is something Griffin has valued over the years.

The night was probably summed up best by the performance of “Icicles,” which closed out the main set. It is a song about getting lost in the moment—valuing and remembering love which captures the essence of the human soul, even in a world where there is usually more “darkness than light.” For this particular performance, Griffin found a lot of that light, enough for everyone attending the concert to understand exactly what Steve Earle has seen firsthand—that it starts and ends with Patty Griffin, even if it is only just for a little while. And somehow, it is always enough.