Duncan Cooper ser en gammal favorit, Lyle Lovett, uppträda på Göta Lejon i Stockholm. En legendar som tyvärr har problem med rösten. Duncan recenserar på sitt modersmål. Den första recensionen på engelska i Musikpulsen.

Lyle Lovett and his five-man group take the stage at a well-filled Göta Lejon. It’s the first time I’ve seen the famous Texan perform with a band since a London gig in June 1988, on a memorable double-bill with k. d. lang. All are dressed in a suit and tie, with the exception of legendary 78-year-old session man Leland Sklar, with his huge white beard and mane of hair, perched impassively at the back of the stage with his five-string, fanned-fret bass guitar, surveying proceedings like a guru. It’s quite a band that Lyle has put together, including Russ Kunkel, who’s drummed for anyone who’s anyone in the country/rock orbit since the early 70s, and top session pianist Jim Cox. They play in an engaging, relaxed style, making light of their virtuosity. Joining them occasionally is backing singer Amy Keys, whose talents are rather under-used.

Lovett’s setlist stretches over his whole songwriting career, from “This Old Porch”, written before his 1986 debut album with Robert Earl Keen, all the way up to recent songs written “in collaboration with” his 8-year-old twins (!) And like many older artists, Lyle punctuates the set with storytelling and other spoken-word elements, interviewing three of his band members in turn about their careers. He loves to trade observations about his home state with some of the Texans in the Stockholm audience. He also talks fondly about his old Swedish motocross buddy Lars Larsson, whom he befriended in the US in the 70s. Lyle is warm, genial, humble, with a wry sense of humour. He genuinely seems like a top bloke.

But he can’t sing any more. It pains me to say it, but his voice is shot. Naturally, one can’t expect a 67-year-old to have the same vocal range as when they were 30. But there seems to be something medically wrong with Lyle’s voice. It’s almost as if he has to take a big gulp at every line, before arriving at the first note a bit late, and continuing in a whiny rasp. In the faster numbers, when the band is at full tilt, like “That’s Right (You’re Not From Texas)”, it’s less noticeable. But in the classic slow ballads like “North Dakota” and “The Road to Ensenada”, it’s a little embarrassing. In online reviews of Lyle’s concerts over the past year and a half, there’s been speculation about what he might be suffering from; it’s unexpected and rather sad.

So, in many ways, this was an excellent concert. The only thing it lacked was the beautiful, familiar tenor voice of Lyle Lovett. And that, unfortunately, was what had drawn us to the concert hall in the first place.