Ramblin' Jack Elliott
Poor David's Pub
June 25, 2011
Better than: a good 90 percent of artists over 65 still out there performing.
People make fun of The Rolling Stones because they're still trying to rock out at almost 70 years of age. Ramblin' Jack Elliott is 10 years their senior.
But the 79-year-old has never had to live up to a reputation built around being youthful, energetic and loud, which is why his performances can withstand the inevitable physical decay that comes with advanced age.
To say that Ramblin' Jack Elliott is a national treasure is a bit of an understatement. The man who learned guitar technique from his longtime friend Woody Guthrie, then mentored the young Bob Dylan in the late '50s, is still performing at nearly eighty years of age. And, at Saturday's show at Poor David's Pub, Elliott proved that, in spite of his age, he can still deliver a touching performance.
When the tiny, fragile, white-haired Elliott took the stage, the small
but reverent audience of about 50 people was completely rapt.
Elliott's aging body appeared to be drowning in a huge cowboy hat and
oversized white shirt; his voice has thinned and quieted over the years,
but Ramblin' Jack's legendary flat-picking guitar technique was dead-on
as he wound his way through a set comprised of originals as well as
traditional folk songs and Guthrie-penned tunes.
He's a reminder
of a time when cowboy singers were as much storytellers as musicians.
He got the nickname "Ramblin' Jack" because of his tendency to tell
lengthy anecdotes, and he lived up to his reputation on Saturday, spinning tales of
his days hanging out with Guthrie and Dylan in between sips from his
coffee cup. The songs themselves were structured more like stories than
the rock songs we are used to today; Elliott's ballads are constructed
around the characters and events depicted in the lyrics, which gave the
impression of listening to an old cowboy spinning yarns while sitting
around a campfire.
The audience, mostly comprised of sixtysomethings
with a smattering of young hipsters, was completely in Elliott's thrall,
laughing and clapping at the appropriate moments.
Oftentimes, as artists age, their live performances suffer as their
bodies can no longer keep up with the high energy that made their music
engaging when they were young (see also: The Who at the Super Bowl). Elliott is lucky in that regard -- his stripped-down
folk songs work just as well when performed by an 80-year-old man
sitting on a stool picking his guitar as they would in a set by a
younger, more energetic act.
Earlier in the night, Andrew Delaney, frontman of the eponymous Andrew Delaney & The Horse
You Rode In On, performed a solo set to open the show. Delaney's music
is remarkably consistent in quality: He's released critically well-received albums in the past four years, and every song that he included
in Saturday night's performance showcased Delaney's charmingly
personal, witty lyrical bent.
A fine opener for a legend.
Critic's Notebook
Personal Bias: My parents had one of Elliott's albums, which they played
on long car trips when I was a kid. I remember sitting in the backseat
of our station wagon with my two little brothers, singing along to
"Buffalo Skinner" as we drove through Yellowstone National Park. One of
my brothers was in town from Minneapolis this weekend, so I took him to
this show with me, and we had a blast pointing out memories that were attached
to Elliott's songs. My little brother is, like me, a die-hard
metalhead. He hadn't listened to folk music since we were kids,
but he had this to say about last night's show: "These guys [both Elliott
and Delaney] have more talent in their little fingers than most of the
crappy bands out there." Well said, little brother.
By The Way: Elliott didn't hesitate to point out that
he recorded "House of the Rising Sun" a decade prior to The Animals'
hit; he then launched into his version of the tune, which was much
darker than the more well-known rendition.
Random Note: I was so impressed by Andrew Delaney's lyrics. This guy is awesome. If you get a chance, go see him play.
