Last night I went to the Robert Earl Keen concert at the Lincoln Theatre in downtown Raleigh. My friend Rob is *ahem* something of a fan, and had organized a group of people to go. I had invited my dad, since he’s the one who introduced me to REK and the Texas music genre, but other than that, I didn’t know any of the other people there. We were a disparate lot, being friends Rob has made from all over. I’ve known him since 6th grade; one guy knew him since military school; two others knew him from being in the military with him; one girl he hangs out with a lot and is apparently the younger sister of someone we knew in middle school; and another girl was that girl’s boss at the Cattleman’s Association. Hanging out with Rob is always an educational experience.
Anyway, we met for dinner at the Mellow Mushroom, conveniently close to my dad’s office. He and I had walked up there a little early to see about arranging for a table. It turned out to be an hour-long wait, but, being a large-ish group of people, it took at least 45 minutes for everyone to get there anyway. Finally, after another 20 minutes or so, Rob harrassed, er, made it clear enough to the staff that we needed to be somewhere by 8:30, and they got a table set up. It was on the patio, though, so we weren’t terribly warm, but hey, we got to eat. Honestly, I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen a group that large order food. It helps to have a predominantly military group that’s willing to let one person take charge and order everything all at once. Let’s hear it for heirarchical organization!
We did indeed get to the Lincoln not long after the doors opened at 8:30, which Rob had made a priority, “being a short guy and actually wanting to be able to see.” There was certainly plenty of time for socializing once we got there, though, because no one even came out on stage to check microphones or set out water until 9:30. My dad was starting to wonder if they were going start before he started to feel like it was his bedtime. (He’s a morning person, what can I say?)
Eventually, of course, they did get started. The opening act was just one guy with his guitar, Adam Carroll. He was okay, but he didn’t have very good crowd control. When I saw REK last year in Chapel Hill, the woman who opened had the crowd actually paying attention and listening, but for this guy, they were still chatting away. I don’t think it helped that the sound system completely swallowed his voice when he was just talking, not singing. Also, he needs to work on his between-song anecdotes. He had two songs in a row where the intro went along the lines of: “This song is called ‘Going Home,’ and it’s a song about going home.” Really? I couldn’t have guessed. Maybe he was just nervous at the beginning, because he got a little better about it as he went along. The general conclusion is that he’s currently a better songwriter than a performer. But I still say you have to like a guy who writes country songs that reference The Odyssey.
And then it was time for Robert Earl Keen! In my opinion, he’s a performer who is definitely improved when heard live, because he responds so well to crowd energy. Some of his studio recordings of songs can be a little lackluster, but those same songs, when heard live, are excellent.
His crowds are always interesting to watch, too. The range from people, usually men, older than my dad to a girl getting something autographed at the end who looked like she was maybe twelve. This evening’s audience had a higher percentage of frat guys in it than the concert I’d been to before, and they all seemed determined to make up for their distinct lack of rhythm by being extremely energetic. (My dad also noted that the club seemed to be trying to make up for the lack of clarity in their sound system through sheer volume and size of speakers. I guess you can’t have everything.) There was a guy behind us who really, really wanted him to play a particular song, and yelled it out at every. single. break. People around us started kind of saying it to themselves in anticipation of his yelling it. I don’t think he ever got his wish. Rob also proposed a theory that the crowd sang louder and yelled whenever there was a word that was something they liked, and by that measure, most of the college crowd in front of us really like alcohol and cigarettes, but I doubt that’s surprising.
I think I must have missed an album or two somewhere along the way, because I didn’t know as many of the songs as I thought I would, but he did play several of my favorites, like “Feelin’ Good Again,” “I’m Coming Home,” and “Gringo Honeymoon,” and he closed with my dad’s favorite, “The Road Goes on Forever.” This is probably also one of his most famous songs, so it would have been shocking if he hadn’t played it, but he was sneaky and saved it for the encore. He and the band definitely seemed to be having a good time. They did an extended semi-discordant jam bit for the “splash” in “Five Pound Bass,” and REK assured us that “each of those notes was picked especially for you.” He also did a solo performance of “Merry Christmas from the Family,” even though it was May, because he said he didn’t want to hear anyone say, “But I drove all the way from – just especially to hear that song.” He dedicated the song to whoever had driven the farthest. Both the main guitarist, Rich Brotherton, and the guy who was on steel guitar had impressive solos throughout the show. I left happy, with slightly muffled hearing and a sore throat.
