Still rockin' at 61
BY RYAN MARKMANN
SAN ANTONIO -- At 22 years old, it’s strange to be the youngest person at a rock ‘n’ roll show.
Music legend Leon Russell performed to a sea of 50-year-olds Wednesday at Sunset Station. Balding hipsters and women old enough to be my grandmother wearing leopard-spotted halter tops filled Sunset to see the man known as the “Master of Space and Time.”
I’ve never been a fan of the venue. Whether the performer is Junior Brown or Danzig, the acoustics of the stage seldom complement anyone. The price for a beer is too embarrassing to mention and the flashing lights around the stage gives one the illusion that they are the steel ball being shot around a blinding pinball machine.
None of my usual gripes seemed to matter when Russell took the stage.
Sixty-one-year old Russell sneaked out to his seat, hiding behind his wide assortment of keyboards, computer gadgets and his huge ZZ Top-style beard.
He began pounding away on the keyboard allowing the crowd little time to react. Before a breath could be taken, Russell had finished six songs, including a new retooled version of Tennessee Ernie Ford’s “Sixteen Tons.”
When Russell and family began the Rolling Stones’ ”Wild Horses,” one man in the audience, who oddly seemed right in place wearing a turtleneck and stonewashed jeans, started throwing out high-fives to all hands that would accept.
Russell has played with a list of artists so diverse and impressive it’s hard to choose ones to list here. Frank Sinatra, Ike and Tina Turner, Sam Cooke, The Beach Boys, and Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass are a small taste.
Russell finally stopped to introduce himself and his band, which included his two daughters, Tina Rose and Sugaree Noel, singing backup. “Delta Lady,” a song from his landmark album Leon Russell, started a near two-hour medley of hits from the Russell catalog.
Bass player Jackie Wessell and Rose lent their singing talents to a few songs, but whether Russell is singing in his gravel-driven voice or simply banging away at the keyboard, he is impossible to overshadow.
Halfway through the show, Russell’s band exited the stage so Russell could become more intimate with the audience. He has made a career out of collaborating with other artists on stage and in the studio, but sitting there, musically naked in his oversized Hawaiian shirt, it was easy to see Russell in a more romantic light.
He picked some of his slower songs, looking over such favorites as “Sweet Emily” and “This Masquerade” for “That Lucky Old Sun” and “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue.”
I’m not sure any Russell concert would be complete without his most-recorded work “A Song For You.” One of the best love songs ever written, “A Song” has been covered by everyone from Dusty Springfield and Willie Nelson to Lena Horne and Prince. As is the case with covers, the creator usually does it best, and Russell proved that by provoking many bodies to sway and a standing ovation at the end.
Famous Texas musician Augie Meyers of the Texas Tornados had a reserved seat in the middle of the venue, showing his approval with a smile and a nod of the head. Shortly after the mellow set, it was time to get back to the rock with hits like “Dixie Lullaby,” “Prince of Peace,” and “Stranger in a Strange Land.”
Russell ended his set with a song he’s been playing so long many folks think he wrote it. “Jumping Jack Flash” by the Rolling Stones has been a staple in Russell’s set almost as long as it has in the Stones'.
Russell made a career of being a “musical chameleon,” as he was referred to in the ‘70s, covering everything from rock, jazz, bluegrass, country and pop.
In 1973, Russell was acknowledged as the top concert attraction by Billboard Magazine. That was long before I was born, but 30 years later I can still see why Russell was a giant in his youth.
Though he has abandoned the long, evangelical-styled sermons and high-pitched screams that sent him above his contemporaries and filled arenas across the world, the spark remains. It may be hidden behind the white beard and sunglasses, but Russell’s unique voice and mysterious persona still demand attention. Whether you’re 9 or 99, you will notice.
(Originally published in the Texas State University Star in 2003)
SAN ANTONIO -- At 22 years old, it’s strange to be the youngest person at a rock ‘n’ roll show.
Music legend Leon Russell performed to a sea of 50-year-olds Wednesday at Sunset Station. Balding hipsters and women old enough to be my grandmother wearing leopard-spotted halter tops filled Sunset to see the man known as the “Master of Space and Time.”
I’ve never been a fan of the venue. Whether the performer is Junior Brown or Danzig, the acoustics of the stage seldom complement anyone. The price for a beer is too embarrassing to mention and the flashing lights around the stage gives one the illusion that they are the steel ball being shot around a blinding pinball machine.
None of my usual gripes seemed to matter when Russell took the stage.
Sixty-one-year old Russell sneaked out to his seat, hiding behind his wide assortment of keyboards, computer gadgets and his huge ZZ Top-style beard.
He began pounding away on the keyboard allowing the crowd little time to react. Before a breath could be taken, Russell had finished six songs, including a new retooled version of Tennessee Ernie Ford’s “Sixteen Tons.”
When Russell and family began the Rolling Stones’ ”Wild Horses,” one man in the audience, who oddly seemed right in place wearing a turtleneck and stonewashed jeans, started throwing out high-fives to all hands that would accept.
Russell has played with a list of artists so diverse and impressive it’s hard to choose ones to list here. Frank Sinatra, Ike and Tina Turner, Sam Cooke, The Beach Boys, and Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass are a small taste.
Russell finally stopped to introduce himself and his band, which included his two daughters, Tina Rose and Sugaree Noel, singing backup. “Delta Lady,” a song from his landmark album Leon Russell, started a near two-hour medley of hits from the Russell catalog.
Bass player Jackie Wessell and Rose lent their singing talents to a few songs, but whether Russell is singing in his gravel-driven voice or simply banging away at the keyboard, he is impossible to overshadow.
Halfway through the show, Russell’s band exited the stage so Russell could become more intimate with the audience. He has made a career out of collaborating with other artists on stage and in the studio, but sitting there, musically naked in his oversized Hawaiian shirt, it was easy to see Russell in a more romantic light.
He picked some of his slower songs, looking over such favorites as “Sweet Emily” and “This Masquerade” for “That Lucky Old Sun” and “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue.”
I’m not sure any Russell concert would be complete without his most-recorded work “A Song For You.” One of the best love songs ever written, “A Song” has been covered by everyone from Dusty Springfield and Willie Nelson to Lena Horne and Prince. As is the case with covers, the creator usually does it best, and Russell proved that by provoking many bodies to sway and a standing ovation at the end.
Famous Texas musician Augie Meyers of the Texas Tornados had a reserved seat in the middle of the venue, showing his approval with a smile and a nod of the head. Shortly after the mellow set, it was time to get back to the rock with hits like “Dixie Lullaby,” “Prince of Peace,” and “Stranger in a Strange Land.”
Russell ended his set with a song he’s been playing so long many folks think he wrote it. “Jumping Jack Flash” by the Rolling Stones has been a staple in Russell’s set almost as long as it has in the Stones'.
Russell made a career of being a “musical chameleon,” as he was referred to in the ‘70s, covering everything from rock, jazz, bluegrass, country and pop.
In 1973, Russell was acknowledged as the top concert attraction by Billboard Magazine. That was long before I was born, but 30 years later I can still see why Russell was a giant in his youth.
Though he has abandoned the long, evangelical-styled sermons and high-pitched screams that sent him above his contemporaries and filled arenas across the world, the spark remains. It may be hidden behind the white beard and sunglasses, but Russell’s unique voice and mysterious persona still demand attention. Whether you’re 9 or 99, you will notice.
(Originally published in the Texas State University Star in 2003)
posted by Ryan Markmann at
6:02 PM
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