Buddy and Julie Miller
Continental Club
Houston, TX

by William Michael Smith

When they opened their set with Richard Thompson's "Keep Your Distance," the first track on their latest Hightone album, I thought Buddy and Julie Miller were going to "play the album." Touring in support of their first official "duo" album, it wouldn't have been surprising or in bad form for them to have performed the album track for track.

But that possibility evaporated when Mr. Miller started making those psychedelic twang sounds that introduced "I Need You," one of the most direct and intense love statements in modern music from Ms. Miller's last album, Broken Things.

I need something like morphine only better
I need something like a kiss that lasts forever
I need something like money that will not burn
I need something and I need more than I can earn

Julie Miller has one of the more distinctive voices in contemporary music. She can use it to create a sweet, sensitive, I'm-your-friend perception, or she can growl and moan like a cat in the alley at 4 a.m. With Mr. Miller blasting away at stage right, on "I Need You" she was in the alley at 4 a.m. By the time they finished this twangy rocker, there was no doubt the Millers had come to crank up the volume and let it rock rather than to do their quiet, reflective, sensitive set. One had to wonder how Mr. Miller would top the guitar solo he had just performed so early in the set.

In the introductory between-song patter, Ms. Miller noted that she and Buddy have two separate audiences and that this can present problems in selecting a set to perform as a duo. Buddy Miller's audience is characterized by guitar aficianados who come to the shows to see what wizardry one of the most highly respected guitarists in Guitartown will perform, while Julie's audience is largely made up of polite, even fragile types who come to hear her more poetic, indulgent, heart-on-the-sleeve material. Credit Mrs. Miller, a native Texan, with understanding what the Continental Club crowd had come to hear.

"It's great to be back in my home state. You're all so special. We love to play down here. You guys always get it."

Returning to the latest album with "Little Darlin'," Miller showed why he is not only one of the top pickers in Nashville, but that he has one of the most distinctive male voices around today. Miller doesn't just sing from the throat, he takes those deep breaths and lets the sound out from deep in his chest.

There were enough guitars onstage to start a pawn shop (Buddy had 4 and Mrs. had 2) and guitars were switched after every number. Miller kept up the twang assault with an altered, guitar-driven version of "Does My Ring Burn Your Finger" from his 1999 Cruel Moon album. On a rocking version of his Cruel Moon duet with Steve Earle, "Love Match," Mr. Miller just kept stretching out as he delivered a blistering solo that left no doubt that one of the Big Boys of guitar was in town.

They allowed things to simmer back down with Julie's "Broken Things," which Buddy accompanied on acoustic guitar. Mrs. Miller went into a monologue about how lots of her songs were the quiet type and that the crowd probably hadn't really come to hear her indulge herself, so this would be her only "indulgence" of the evening. There was quite a bit of noise coming from the rear of the club when she said, "This one is going to start quiet and go from there," so a patron stood up on his chair and hollered, "Y'all in the back shut the fuck or go home." Ah, yes, welcome home to Texas, Julie Miller.

Buddy, with bassist Rick Plant (Allison Moorer) and drummer Brian Owings (Amazing Rhythm Aces), followed with a rousing version of "Help Wanted" in which Mr. Miller again showed both his picking and singing chops. The band then left the stage while Miller performed Tom T. Hall's "That's How I Got To Memphis" solo. Other than Richard Thompson, there are few artists who can quiet and captivate a rowdy Houston club audience solo the way Buddy Miller does.

Mrs. Miller came back with the band and this time she had her Telecaster. As an intro, she told some great Steve Earle stories from the year she and Buddy toured with Earle (Buddy was Earle's lead guitarist for a year). Mrs. Miller heard Earle play "Wild Thing" during a sound check and asked him to teach her the song. But even after she learned the chords, she never got to play it in concert, so she wrote "my own version." She then led the band through a raucous version of "I Love You Honey." The band then dropped into that lowdown bayou funk zone with a rendition of Hank Williams' "Cajun Baby," with Buddy again delivering a drop-dead flurrying solo. In keeping with the bayou vibe, they segued into the Credence Clearwater-ish "Dirty Water" from the new album.

Simmering back down once again, they did a wonderful acoustic duet of "Forever Has Come To An End" from the new album. If there are two finer, more in-synch voices in Americana, I wish someone would point them out to me.

Hitting the home stretch, the band went into high gear as they worked through an Appalachian version of Bob Dylan's "Wallflower," gave a soaring vocal performance on "Rock Salt and Nails," and headed for the barn with the funky syncopated twanger "Somewhere Trouble Don't Go" from Cruel Moon.

The band reappeared for an encore and surprised everyone with a version of the Wilbert Harrison classic, "Get Together." The Millers closed out their night with "I Don't Mean Maybe," another twanger from Buddy's first album, Your Love and Other Lies.

After a thunderous round of applause, Mr. Miller and the rhythm section reappeared. A brief conference took place around the drum kit and Miller could be heard asking "what can we do?" I don't know whether it was a spontaneous jam or whether it was a song they had played before but, which ever it was, I don't believe anyone in the audience was prepared for the interpretation of Chuck Berry's "Nadine" that Miller, Plant, and Owings delivered. Mr. Miller slowed the original tempo and retooled the melody with lots of his patented guitar funk. Taking an extended final solo to the delight of the audience, Mr. Miller left no doubt why Emmy Lou Harris has been such a big supporter. After seeing his stylish, awe-inspiring performance Friday night, it is not a stretch to say that Buddy Miller is the Jimi Hendrix of twang.



Contact William Michael Smith at: wms-at-rockzilla.net

 
Read Rockzilla's Guestbook
Sign Rockzilla's Guestbook