Charley Crockett sells out Ryman, creates undeniable honky-tonk party moments
Charley Crockett's sold-out Monday night Ryman Auditorium appearance -- because it opened with a zydeco-inflected version of his two-stepping, 2022-released classic-inspired country tune "Cowboy Candy" -- started with not a standing ovation, but country music's mother church turning into a 2,500-seat honky-tonking juke joint.
Swinging, swaying and a band playing records transpired for two hours. And though it appeared everyone in the venue knew each other, it felt like a year where the San Benito, Texas native taking his unique sonic blend -- yes, a "brand new beat" of sorts -- around the world has finally started to yield the unparalleled acclaim he may not be chasing, but unquestionably deserves.
2022 has not only been a breakthrough success for Crockett because he's released two albums -- "Jukebox Charley" and "The Man From Waco" -- within six months of each other. As well, it's because, by the close of the year, he will have played roughly ten percent more gigs than Luke Combs and Morgan Wallen combined. Of course, that's no slight at either one of the artists just nominated for the Country Music Association's Entertainer of the Year honor -- they're playing National Football League and Major League Baseball stadiums, National Basketball Association arenas and amphitheaters as headliners.
Instead, it's a testament to the growing appeal (Willie Nelson's Luck and Outlaw Festival appearances, Central Park Summerstage, intimate live European sets and more) of Crockett's barnstorming take on funk-aided, soulful blues-driven and rock and roll aesthetic guided country and western music.
Crockett's current touring band is well-rounded and curiously aware in wanting to explore expanding the sonic depth and scope of the mountain of material (11 albums since 2015 and a bumper crop of covers) the performer has in his arsenal. Five men played the equivalent of fifteen instruments with virtuoso flair.
But, if expecting to watch Charley Crockett and be delivered the same experience you've received from your favorite vinyl album or oft-saved streaming experience, do realize that his band -- and the man himself -- have lived intimately with these songs for too long and so successfully that perhaps they've tired of them. But, the touring schedule is so audacious and exciting that they can't quite yet lay down their instruments to stop now.
Thus, after a year where they played live once every 50 hours for the 250 or so days they've been on the road, the idea that country songs have evolved into Cajun ones, western songs are R&B, honky-tonk anthems are gut-bucket funk bombs, two-steppers become waltzes and ballads become "Quiet Storm" radio format-ready grooves is logical.
The Ryman Auditorium crowd was expecting to merely herald the Americana Music Association's 2021 Breakout Artist of the Year's emergence to superstar status. However, that didn't happen. Instead, because the music sounded refreshed and it caused the crowd to move and act in manners they perhaps weren't expecting to at country music's mother church, but the time Crockett played his 2021 hit "Music City U.S.A.," he received a thunderous, prolonged standing ovation.
Then, perhaps as not wanting to get caught in the overwhelming power of the moment, he launched directly into an homage to his Texas inspiration and mentor, James "Slim" Hand, by playing a trio of his songs: "Midnight Run," "Lesson in Depression" and "Don't Tell Me That."
"It's a long way from the alley to the stage," remarked Crockett to the Ryman crowd, borrowing a statement made by one of his fans at a VIP meet-and-greet before his set. He notes to The Tennessean that he was 18 when he first played Lower Broadway as a busker, where he was awed by the sheer power and quality of the sounds emanating from the area's bars. Before playing on Monday night, Crockett added that the sheer number of bars pumping sounds onto the streets was more impressive than ever.
In essence, the gulf between the alley that separates The Ryman from the back entrance to Tootsie's Orchid Lounge and Robert's Western World is now metaphorically larger than ever. It may be so large that for barnstormers eschewing hard rock and pop country -- or not aided by profound levels of world-class musicianship -- getting to The Ryman requires navigating a bridge too far to cross.
However, there's Crockett onstage at The Ryman, commandeering his acoustic guitar, shotgun-style, like Marty Robbins, growling into the microphone like Johnny Cash, and proclaiming himself the world's biggest fan of George Jones -- then launching into an earnest cover of Jones' 1968 classic "Between My House and Town." It'd feel like heart-warming karaoke and not a superstar moment if he didn't dig deeper into that bag of cover material and unleash faithful, fun takes of Jerry Reed's "I Feel For You" and T-Bone Walker's "Left Home When I Was A Kid."
From countrypolitan royalty to the jump blues and rockabilly soul, the totality of Crockett's musical IQ is appreciated but never astonishing. He's as great as advertised.
Three-quarters of the way through the set, Crockett's typical composed, orchestrated manner of controlling a live crowd vanished. In a moment that arrived only after touching the spirits and lives of so many of his fans, plus so many country music favorites he venerates this year, Crockett himself began to shimmy, shake and dance onstage before, during and after playing songs including "Borrowed Time" and "Trinity River."
On the latter, the song's trumpet served -- as it has all year -- as the hearkening call of a type of New Orleans "second-line" type celebration. In a high-minded sense, that moment is the death of the invisible line between "Americana" and "country." On a base-level sense, it's the end of crowds politely observing Crockett as an amusing throwback traditionalist but instead deciding to wear their most comfortable dancing shoes the next time he's in town.
Crockett closed the night following a loud, rumbling ovation by noting that the night also marked his mother's birthday. He also said that his sister had passed roughly seven years ago to the day and honored Loretta Lynn's passing. Tributing his sister with a cover of Townes Van Zandt's "Tecumseh Valley," Lynn with "I'm A Honkytonk Man" and closing with his own "Paint It Blue" added a bittersweet yet entertaining coda to a spirited evening.
In "Paint it Blue," Crockett tells a story of an outlaw escaping a sheriff. On this evening, it felt like an allegory analogous to so much of the blend of stress, struggle and success he's involved himself with over a two-decade career. He's aware that he's not freed himself from those issues but that they've impressively evolved into a new myriad of now first-world problems. Closing the evening, the following lyrics hit differently than ever before.
"I give up so much of me / I should probably be charging a fee / You say that you don't like me, and I'm wrong / I bet you're gonna love the way I'm gone."
This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Charley Crockett sells out Ryman, creates undeniable honky-tonk party moments