It’s truly been a privilege to witness the evolution of John Hiatt’s remarkable career. Having first experienced John Hiatt live in concert back in 1979, a time when he already had three albums under his belt, it was clear even then this wasn’t the beginning, but a significant waypoint in a journey. The New Wave scene was vibrant, and Hiatt, fresh off the release of “Slug Line” which garnered critical acclaim, was being touted as potentially the American Elvis Costello. The anticipation was palpable, and the buzz around Hiatt was undeniable.
My next encounter with him on stage was in the mid-1980s. The edgy, almost confrontational New Wave persona seemed to have solidified. I recall a somewhat less than gracious moment at the Orpheum when, from the balcony’s front row, our failure to stand at the end of his opening set was met with a less-than-appreciative gesture. It highlighted a tension; here was a songwriter of immense talent, seemingly wrestling with the performer aspect, perhaps impatient for the widespread recognition his songwriting deserved.
Then came 1987, the year Hiatt captured that elusive songwriter’s lightning in a bottle with “Bring the Family.” The story has become almost legendary: Hiatt, alongside an all-star ensemble featuring Nick Lowe, Ry Cooder, and Jim Keltner, entered the studio and, as lore has it, essentially recorded one of the quintessential American albums live.
When you strike gold like that, the instinct is to replicate the formula. However, assembling that same constellation of musicians, each deeply immersed in their own thriving careers, proved to be logistically challenging. Hiatt had been touring extensively with The Goners for about a year prior, and the decision was made to bring them into the studio. Stepping into the studio to follow up “Bring the Family” must have been daunting, yet it proved to be an inspired choice. The success of “Bring the Family” did bring its own rewards, including attracting the attention of a true luminary in music production, Glyn Johns, to helm the follow-up. And this brings us to September 1, 2018, at the sold-out Pantages Theater in Minneapolis, where myself and a packed house had gathered, almost thirty years to the day, to witness the same band recreate “Slow Turning” as the grand finale of the John Hiatt Tour celebrating its 30th Anniversary.
The evening commenced with a solo acoustic set, offering a sneak peek into his then-forthcoming “Eclipse Sessions” CD. Arriving slightly late, I settled into my seat just as Hiatt began “Master of Disaster.” (I later learned the solo set had actually opened with “Perfectly Good Guitar,” “Crossing Muddy Waters,” and “Lift Up Every Stone.”) Hiatt then dedicated the subsequent song to a gentleman who had requested it the previous night in Bayfield, Wisconsin, only to be denied due to Hiatt’s momentary lapse in lyric recall. Amidst the audience’s laughter, he quipped, “…Sure we play requests, the following night,” adding with a touch of self-deprecation, “…give me a break I’m 66 years old,” before launching into “Seven Little Indians.” My sympathy went out to the Bayfield patron, as Hiatt held the Minneapolis audience spellbound with his narrative prowess on “Indians,” a richly detailed tale reminiscent of his fellow Midwestern storytelling icons, John Prine and Bob Dylan.
Next in the solo set were a pair of tracks from the soon-to-be-released “Eclipse Sessions,” “Cry to Me” and “Aces Up Your Sleeve,” reaffirming Hiatt’s undiminished songwriting brilliance. “Cry to Me” immediately struck me as a future classic, destined for countless covers, much like many of Hiatt’s compositions. However, Hiatt’s own rendition on “Eclipse Sessions” would undoubtedly set a high bar. Highly recommended indeed.
The solo segment concluded with a potent rendition of “Cry Love.” Hiatt’s songwriting genius is so encompassing that it’s easy to overlook his considerable guitar skills. It was a thoroughly satisfying prelude to the main event that was still to come as part of the John Hiatt tour.
Following a brief intermission, Hiatt returned to the stage with The Goners. Despite thirty years having passed and a confessed aversion to rehearsal (a practice “Slow Turning” producer Glyn Johns had insisted upon, and one they hadn’t repeated since), they were in top form. For the most part, the arrangements stayed faithful to the album. Hearing “Drive South” and “Trudy and Dave” felt like reconnecting with cherished old friends. The energy escalated with “Tennessee Plates,” featuring a thrilling guitar duel between Landreth and Hiatt. Sonny Landreth showcased his improvisational flair with some fascinating sonic textures during “Icy Blue Heart,” demonstrating the continued growth of his already prodigious guitar abilities, as well as his impressive guitar collection. (I counted at least four different guitars wielded by Landreth, keeping his guitar tech quite busy throughout the night.)
The only minor hiccup, if one could call it that, occurred during “Sometime Other Than Now,” when the sound mix seemed to momentarily lose its clarity, becoming somewhat muddy. Fortunately, whatever the audio gremlin was, it was swiftly addressed, just in time for “Georgia Rae.” This song was introduced by a proud fatherly anecdote, mentioning not only the song’s namesake, who is a social worker in Nashville, but also his other two children, Lilly, a fellow musician, and his son Robert, all thriving in their respective paths.
“Ride Along” provided another showcase for Landreth’s blistering guitar work, leading us to the title track, a clear crowd favorite. I noticed drummer Kevin Blevins had adopted Jim Keltner’s technique of incorporating maracas into his drumstick hand, adding that subtle layer of percussive texture.
After “It’ll Come to You,” Hiatt swapped his guitar for a keyboard and shared a story about his youthful days listening to WLAC, a 50,000-watt clear channel radio station broadcasting from Nashville, and DJ Bill “Hossman” Allen. Hiatt recounted how Allen would venture to a local Baptist church on Sundays to record gospel music, which he would then broadcast later that Sunday night. Hiatt shared that the next song always evoked memories of Hossman, before delivering an exquisite rendition of “Is Anybody There?”. The tempo picked up again with a spirited “Paper Thin,” before concluding the album’s sequence with the beautiful “It Feels Like Rain.”
However, the night wasn’t over yet. The band returned for a three-song encore. The all-Louisianan Goners took center stage in the first encore, with Kevin Blevins laying down the second line rhythm for Sonny’s “Congo Square,” allowing the band to stretch out and display their musical prowess. It was infectious to witness the genuine joy on Hiatt’s face as he cheered on his bandmates, almost taking on a sideman role for a moment. The camaraderie and mutual appreciation within the band were palpable; they were clearly savoring the moment, aware of life’s fleeting nature.
No John Hiatt performance would be complete without one of his most poignant compositions, “Have a Little Faith in Me.” Hiatt returned to the keyboards, alone once more, before bringing back the band for one final song, “Memphis in the Meantime.” This concluded a memorable night on the John Hiatt tour, celebrating a timeless album and a remarkable career.
