The ragtime waltz of ‘Tears of Gold’ ushers in an enchanted evening at Mandela Hall with the latter-day Grievous Angel of Americana, Ryan Adams. The nigh-on three hour set will see the prolific Adams delve deep into his extensive back catalogue, panhandling for precious nuggets, with songs from Heartbreaker and Gold glinting among the Cardinals’ material.
A startling rendition of ‘Magnolia Mountain’ sets an early benchmark for the evening. Before the final chorus, the cherub-faced Adams leads his troops into a prolonged instrumental charge; rhythms reach seemingly impossible crescendos, the guitars stretch, prolonging the ecstasy, before they deliver the blessed coup d’état of the final chorus. In this ability to re-imagine and revitalise his material, Adams mirrors that Great American Storyteller, Bob Dylan.
Indeed even when he plays ‘New York, New York’ it takes a moment for the spark of recognition to ignite. Perhaps his most famous song, it has been transformed, the defiant briskness of the recorded version becoming a poignant lament, lyrics contorted beyond recognition.
‘Firecracker’ and ‘To Be Young’ convey the listener to similarly strange new vistas. Adams, it is clear, revels in the freedom of this environment. Even a technical hitch or two can’t subdue his good humour, and though Adams is not overly talkative, tonight there is certainly no trace of his inner prima donna.
Ably supported by a group of consummate musicians, most notably the lyrical guitar playing of Neal Casal, he is clearly in the process of becoming an intrepid frontiersman, transporting his music to wondrous new planes. We’re just happy to be along for the ride.