Emmylou treats a packed house – Birmingham Symphony Hall – 13th May 2026

HOW MANY?

When it is a little over 50 years between performances, effort needs to be made. It’s true, neither of us are quite as we looked, February 23, 1976, at Hammersmith’s (still to me) Odeon, but Emmylou had certainly scrubbed up well, and I had done my best. Symphony Hall looked as plush and palatial as its reputation deserves, the stage set simple and all the more effective thereby. A bare stage, polished floor and no backdrop beyond black drapes. Even the back seats, the circle beneath the organ, á la Albert Hall, were full.

A semi-circle of instruments and microphones. What could be seen? Well, the drum kit and a big old stand up bass augured well, with some guitars tucked discreetly to one side. Keyboards to stage left a was that a fiddle and mandolin racked up, on the opposite side? A central microphone suggested where the action may stem from. But we are ahead of ourselves.

PATTER & PLAY

Before Ms. Harris there came a brief set from Jim Lauderdale. Lauderdale is one of those names that litters album credits, tending to be known perhaps better for his songs than his performance, with dozens to his name, and high profile collabs with Ralph Stanley, Buddy Miller and, as we learnt tonight, Grateful Dead lyricist, Robert Hunter. In a shiny quasi-Nudie suit and permaplace long grey locks, he looked every inch of Nashville’s idea of an outlaw. Which is to say, nothing like Willie, Waylon and the boys. A little alarming, even.

With just a sturdy six-string to strum, he gave us around 10 songs over 40 minutes, interspersed with tales of who he wrote them for or with. Irrespective his stellar track record of songs covered by the likes of Elvis Costello and Nick Lowe, he seemed a bit of an anachronism. I suspect I may have just have wanted to hear the versions by singers I prefer. My bad, maybe, as he seemed to suit the capacity crowd, who warmed swiftly to his patter and play.

EXTRAVAGANT WHITE MANE & ENORMOUS GUITAR

A brief interval allowed some palate cleansing and a check out of the audience, which was a mix of, generally, older punters, from grizzled lone groovers and country loving couples to those revisiting past glories with affection. More varied than anticipated and a scattering of younger, at least at the margins. Spot on 8.30, and to much applause, on strode Emmylou, in trademark flowing dress and cowboy boots, her head garlanded by an extravagant white mane.

Dragging on a returning Lauderdale, the two of them started a stripped back Love Hurts, with just her enormous acoustic and the two harmony voices. As the song unfolded, so the Red Dirt Boys trooped on and grouped about her. Her current band, this is Phil Madeira, on keys, Will Kimbrough, guitar, Chris Donohue, bass, and Bryan Owings on drums, joined now by Eamon McLoughlin on fiddle and mandolin.

Taking a song or two to get the sound balance right, it is fair to say Harris’s voice is in fine fettle for a singer in her 80th year. If some of the softer tones have receded, technique near as ninepence makes up for that, and it retains the strength and volume she has had always at her command. This perhaps renders the set geared a little more to the livelier side of her repertoire, although, as the evening went on, so she found more of the nuances that make her voice so distinctive. Gillian Welch’s Orphan Girl followed, and we were already on safe ground, as McLoughlin’s fiddle sawed joyously. With Madeira strapping on an accordion, the band were stonking from the go.

RED DIRT CHALLENGES ALL MET

The adept arrangements continued, as the name of George Jones drew a cheer from the audience, his Making Believe washed by Madeira switching back to elegant ripples of piano. A second Jones’ song, and one that she had actually played, all those years ago at the Hammy O, One Of These Days came next, with Kimborough peeling off a beauty of a baritone guitar solo, just the sort of twang fit for his bandleader’s torch. McLoughlin was now proving himself no mean mando player, taking and seeing the next solo as the challenge laid down.

Mention of Townes Van Zandt drew further noisy acclaim from the audience, anticipating and getting a sublime Pancho And Lefty, a song she has more than made her own over the decades, as well as drawing attention to the lanky Texan who wrote it. Her own Red Dirt Girl showed that, whilst she may not be a prodigious songwriter, when she turns her hand it turns well. A further absent friend got then a mention, that of her erstwhile Nashville neighbour, Nanci Griffith. With Kimborough singing the Willie Nelson part from her original version of Griffith’s Gulf Coast Highway, both the memory and the rendition were well received.

“IT’S MY PARTY”

Time now for the stand up bass to take a bow, this brought on board for some Bill Monroe, in the form of Get Up John. This then led into a spiritual, Green Pastures, a further bit of vintage bluegrass, for which McLoughlin now added his instrumental panache. Clearly relaxing into the storytelling vibe, Harris then explained why she was going to sing the song, gifted originally to Johnny Cash, for the Jesse James album that Paul Kennerley had originally curated.

She said she always preferred Cash’s song to the one she had to sing on the same album, and, as it was her show tonight, so she could. I learnt that Kennerley, who also wrote the White Mansions album suite, was actually a Brit. I knew he was an ex-husband of hers, but not that. This segued into a romping Born To Run, which isn’t that one, by the way, but rather another of her own and Kennerley’s. Kimborough’s guitar was again on fire.

SPECIAL MOMENT

There came then one of the special moments, as half the band exited, for the near acapella 3 way harmony of Calling My Children Home. Near acapella, in that the only instrumental texture was some bowed bass from Donohue. After that one could sense the sestet were headed for the close. Evangeline was a little messier than on record but was more fun, Some similar fare and then it was time to acknowledge, as she must, the part Mark Knopfler played in her early noughties career, with a rousing All The Road Running.

Oldie but goldie time next, or, rather, Gram time, with a superb Wheels, followed by Luxury Liner. And, being where we were, obviously Boulder To Birmingham had to have an appearance, a song she wrote for and about Gram Parsons in 1975, a year after his death. To be fair, it would anyway, she never forgetting to acknowledge the late singer’s role in her ascent to the Queen of country. A rollicking Hallelujah I’m Ready To Go finally closed the set, awash with more frantic mandolin from McLoughlin, who has made such a valued addition to the Red Dirt Boys sound.

An apt closer, no way were we going home without the show-biz shenanigans of an encore, that provided by a song I loathed in the day, her countrified take on Chuck Berry, C’est La Vie, aka You Never Can Tell. Tonight it was just darn perfect, and a cracking way for farewells to be said to this remarkable performer. As the fella next to me said, his sister, at 79, the same age, can barely walk, let a lone strut through near two hours on stage, singing throughout. And not an autocue in sight.

A CELEBRATION TO CHERISH

It is always sad to see the end of a career, or, at least, an overseas touring career. But, rather than mourning the loss, this show was entirely celebratory, and one to cherish. True, after over 50 years recording and with umpteen albums under her belt, there was time to cover but a fraction of her extensive catalogue. But that is what the records, remember them, as she said, are for!

Here’s a memory of her, with a song she didn’t play tonight, courtesy the never constant nature of the setlist. If you catch her before the tour ends, maybe you’ll get lucky!

Emmylou Harris: Website

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