Live music review: Kris Kristofferson and The Strangers at the Golden Nugget
Editor’s Note: Today’s guest post by Scott Rollins on Kris Kristofferson’s performance on November 17 at the Golden Nugget – Lake Charles originated as a long-form Facebook status update. When I read his copy, I wrote him at the urging of my wife and asked if he’d be ok with us running the piece at The Cosmic Clash. Thankfully he agreed. Below is his first-person account of the evening. As a longtime resident of East Texas, I respect Rollin’s opinion regarding country music, the dominant genre in his neck of the woods. Particularly, his perspective on outlaw country artists is what interests me as the genre is heavily tied to Texas music and Rollins has been hearing this type of music his entire life unlike me who had to emigrate to Texas to really get a handle on Willie, Waylon, Merle and the rest.
The show was four minutes late, house lights still on and I was waiting outside the door marked with the section I’d secured seats. To my right, on the other side of the hall, were five places to buy beer, wine, or something harder if the spirit took you. My bride and I had crossed the Louisiana border with two of our best friends, who share the same interest in music, politics and nearly everything else. Good people who we enjoy. Bert & Kayla. Neither has seen Kris Kristofferson before and were possibly more excited than I, despite the fact that my emotions rarely betray me.
It seemed everyone was here: My wife’s cousin and her husband drove in from Austin. My friends had friends here, everyone was buying drinks and socializing. But it was time to gather our rear ends into our seats and await the start of the show. I was a bit shocked (it’s hard to surprise me) upon running into Andie Hellem on the way into the venue. Many Kristofferson fans may know her either in real life, via social media or from the band email list. She was working the merch counter where I was eyeballing a DVD.
Like magic, my bride and everyone else materialized just before the show started. We made plans to meet up after the show with Haley and Greg, my wife’s cousins (mine too for that matter now) and all the friends of friends of friends. We made our way to our seats, while people thinking they had plenty of time lingered in the ailes. A familiar voice boomed through the mic while my back was to the stage, “Good evening Lake Charles”. The crowd erupted into applause. Even though I hadn’t seen Kristofferson perform a show in nearly twenty years, I knew he’d open with “Shipwrecked In The 80’s.”
He was strong, straight as a board, dressed in black with his trusty tan boots and Gibson guitar. His longish silver hair, tamed back, resembling an old lion’s mane. He sagely smiled and introduced the band.
I’d never seen Kristofferson with a full band. I didn’t become a real fan until the mid 1990s. It was his work as a member of outlaw country super-group, The Highwaymen (Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Kristofferson) that led me to his music specifically. Before that he was merely an accomplished song-smith whose name I’d seen countless times on album credits.
I was somewhat familiar with Merle Haggard’s old band, The Strangers. I was always a fan of The Hag, and I think his son Ben Haggard should be the hottest thing in country music. Let me tell you, they are no slouches. To me, one of the greatest challenges a musician has is not getting in the way of a song. The Strangers accomplished this feat in grand style. They know how to treat a song and a working songwriter like Kris. It was a pleasure to see The Strangers backing the legend on stage where they belong.
Every few songs, a band member would sing a Merle song. I felt this was a classy move. Kristofferson remained on stage the entire time, singing and playing along appearing to be having a great time. Each member nailed every song. The one imperfection was Kris’s during “Sunday Morning Coming Down,” when he repeated a line from the first verse, but quickly corrected himself, catching up to the tempo of the song, smiling with great humility. The audience lovingly supported him.
The tune “Sunday Morning Coming Down” is a fan favorite. Don’t get me wrong… I love it, but like other songs that are so well known, in performance they’re often predictable. Last month in Lake Charles, Kristofferson changed it up, giving the track a “cold opening.” With no instrumentation, he simply spoke into the microphone, “Well I woke up Sunday morning…” and he started playing and the band slowly joined in at the end of the second line. It was almost like he slapped us across the face with the song lyrics. Not bad for man in his 80’s, and a song knocking on 50.
I’ve always felt Kristofferson’s songs were timeless. They broke barriers in the late 1960s and early 1970s, but they are always as fresh and strong every time I hear one on the radio. I’ve likewise often enjoyed many of his less popular songs and my only complaint not many of those deep cuts made an appearance in the set list. However, not many songwriters could fill a set list with nothing but number one hit songs.
One of the softer junctures came with “For the Good Times”. It was so quiet. Everyone was still and caught in the magic of the song. It was if we were all attending a vigil it was so solemn. On the last chorus, most were singing along in a soft, yet glorious moment. You could hear every voice melting together into the words.
Afterward my bride friends gathered, energized from the show, outside on a large porch over-looking the lake to talk about the gig under the stars, in the crisp, cold November air. My cousin Greg is a music journalist in Austin. He last saw Kris when he was suffering from Lyme disease, which we all thought was dementia at the time. Greg said it was sad to see him then, because he couldn’t remember words to most of his songs. Greg stated how proud he was to see Kris in such fine form again.
I reflected further on the show once alone. I know this could be the last time I see Kris Kristofferson. He is not fading into the forgotten darkness where many artists find themselves in the twilight of their careers. Nor is he an embarrassment to dignity, being propped up on stage to only be a shadow of his former self. He is going out swinging, like the fighter he is and always had been.
