http://www.tulsaworld.com
by: Jennifer Chancellor
The 79-year-old wasted no time as he walked on stage, raised his hand to the cheering crowd and foisted his guitar strap over his shoulder. He and his five-piece backing band were all clad in black as they swept into the first night of a two-night, sold-out stint at the venue.
At times, his voice crossed into spoken word-style presentation, his slim fingers sliding deftly across the frets and strings. His versions of “Good Hearted Woman” and “Beer for My Horses” quickly turned into beer-hoisting honky-tonk sing-alongs, with fans whooping and Nelson’s voice and energy fueled with every chant and holler.
His set included “Still Is Still Moving To Me,” “Whiskey River,” “I Never Cared for You,” “Funny How Time Slips Away,” “Superman” and “Let’s Face the Music and Dance,” all laid-back as he moved into “Crazy.”
Song introductions are a waste of time in a set like this. Often by the first lyric or second or third chord, the audience is clapping in recognition. “The night life ain’t no good life, but it’s my life,” he sang.
His sister, Bobbie Nelson, his right-hand woman onstage for most of the night, banged out a playful solo on the piano.
Nelson name dropped: Merle. Hank. Waylon. Charley Pride. Billy Joe Shaver. His affable laugh opened his version of “Shoeshine Man.” The white spotlights focused on the singer and swung to his sister on piano as the two traded musical licks.
His set ran close to two hours, but if felt as if time had stopped. His tribute to Bob Wills included “Take Me Back to Tulsa,” with bright, swingy piano, doghouse bass and harmonica.
The night was fast-paced and near-seamless. A quick “thank you” was all that was proffered between tunes that included “Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die,” “I’ll Fly Away,” Hoagy Carmichael’s “Georgia on My Mind,” and Ed Bruce’s “Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys.” His “Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground” was quiet enough that fans would whistle through their fingers during brief silences.
Other tunes were chapters from the real American songbook: Hank Williams’ “Jambalaya (On the Bayou),” “I Saw the Light,” “Hey Good Lookin’,” Roy Fred Rose-penned “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” and good-old 12-bar blues, harmonica-infused “Move It On Over.” Some may call these tunes covers, but Nelson owns them. When he plays a song, it’s his.
A highlight, his “On the Road Again,” was a swaying, hand-clapping sing-along as 20-somethings stood and laughed and danced with baby boomers and stomped their boots in a collective moment of glee.