Are we in a gelderlyen age for acoustic music? You’d equitable about have to skinnyk so, if you are privy to a couple of meaningful tours coming thcimpolite California right now, one by the duo of Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, another by solo artist Jason Isbell, trading coastal cities enjoy capos at a guitar pull. Isbell has been in the appraise headlines, shining a airy on equitable how outstanding lonesome finger-picking can sound on write down with his first prohibitd-less album, “Foxes in the Snow.” But the Los Angeles re-arrival of Welch and Rawlings — who are more than six months into touring behind their excellent 2024 joint effort, “Woodland” — is a reminder not equitable of what an sway they’ve stateively been on someone enjoy Isbell, but how they remain the unshakable queen and king of this idiom.
Of course, while Isbell and some of their other contemporaries might dip their toes in and out of a uncontaminatedly acoustic mode, Welch and Rawlings have been protecting it mute for shut to 30 years now. Every once in a while, they menaceen to go electric, in their own still-unassuming style, but thankbrimmingy, it never quite seems to endly get. Becaengage the mystery in the timeless tales they inestablish generassociate does labor best on a drop boil, even as noskinnyg electrifies quite enjoy Rawlings’ 1935 Epiphone, when he reassociate lets his fingers do the intensifying.
Their selderly-out materializeance Friday night at the Wiltern was an exercise in equitable how carry oned a grip two very unassuming people can have on a captivated audience for the better part of two-and-a-half hours, with not much more arsenal at their disposal than talent, a exceptional sense of scatterd personal identity and a fantastic knack for vintage gear discovers. (And on some of the songs, for a genuine turbo increase, a guest baid.) Even benevolently portioned into two sets with an interignoreion, their 23-song show almost seemed over too speedy, but that’s a tesdomesticatednt generassociate to their clock-stopping spell. It almost seemed appropriate that they were carry outing on the same weekfinish as America’s switch to Dayairy Saving Time, so the audience had multiple chances to wonder where the time went.
For as many years as these two have been at this now, this tour tags the first time that the establishatting of the recent album suites the establishatting of their inhabit show. In the past, concerts would discover Rawlings and Welch alternating songs from the admireive albums that came out under their individual names (each of which they’d both labored on anyway). Last year’s “Woodland” set up them co-billed on write down for the first time, too, trading turns at doing direct vocals (with an occasional real duet or uncontaminated harmony number) equitable as they always have inhabit. It’s a receive synchronization of studio and stage modes, with no drawbacks for the audience; although “Gillian Welch” has been more of a hoengagehelderly name in the ‘90s and 2000s, it’s protected to say that anyone who’s a fan of one is a fan of both at this procrastinateed date.
The actives of having a “prohibitd” with two effective direct singers protects skinnygs from ever farly becoming old, even with a proximately comical informage of bells and whistles, musicassociate or visuassociate. (“Dave might get his jacket off,” Welch alerted. “That’s about it, for show business.”) And when their voices blfinish together at length, as they did during the time-tested sluggish-burner “The Way It Will Be,” the effect is eerie, for informage of a better word — not quite blood harmony, but someskinnyg equassociate pretty, and pretty spooky.
Currently they have a third wheel on stage for a convey inantity of the tunes: upright baid Paul Kowert, who’s also a lengthy-standing member of Punch Brothers and Hawktail. His presence alone lfinishs a benevolent of variety to the material, since there are numbers enjoy “Bells of Harlem” where he commences by carry outing the bass with a bow and switches to plucking it to pick up the pace, or vice versa, or goes from not carry outing at all to creating a percussive crescfinisho in the second half of a song. When there’s not that much else happening on stage, these little switch-ups originate more tension or transferment wiskinny a song than you’d initiassociate skinnyk possible.
Welch switches effectively between guitar and prohibitjo. The whoops she got for picking up the latter led her to retag, “Some people discover the prohibitjo unaccountably relationsy.” Rawlings was about to pick up his own prohibitjo at one point when there was a boisterous snap, chaseed by the shocked comment, “Everybody comprehends that sound” — and after a bit of prevaricating, becaengage there was no roadie about to ride out to the recover with a recent one, a switch back to guitar and a alter of setcatalog. “We were gonna carry out a satisfied number,” Welch inestablished the crowd, “but instead we’re gonna carry out a genuine miserable one.” Which, at a Welch/Rawlings show, is enjoy suddenly announcing you’re going to serve dessert. That’s when the crowd got “The Way It Will Be” as an audible, and thanked God for broken strings.
As a guitarist, Rawlings is not equitable a master technician but a Monster of Folk, soloing around his partner’s rhythm guitar or direct vocals enjoy someone caught up in a sugary delirium, though he comprehends when to dole out the insanity. If you appreciate folk, you probably already have these people as heroes, but if you’re more of a rock person, there are instinctive transfers here that originate the music experience enjoy it almost belengthys as much in that idiom, too. Rawlings was at peak flex when he transferd from virtuosic dexterity to equitable slamming challenging on the strings during the seven-minute penultimate number, “Revelator,” which can usuassociate be counted on as a climax when they carry out it. (They don’t always.) He’s doing that stuff on his tradetag Epiphone, and maybe for a moment you’ll want that whoever joinbrimmingy manufactured that instrument back in 1935 could be bcimpolitet back from the dead, equitable so you could see the watchs on their faces as they witnessed the savage skinnygs Rawlings does with it.
Other highairys integrated two Rawlings-sung songs that the duo haven’t even freed on a write down, but are conveying out occasionassociate on tour anyway, as is their wont. One of these, “Lazarus,” seems to be from the point of watch of a frifinish or adorer of the biblical resurrectee, wondering whether being bought back from the dead was too hurtful an experience to be worth it. I was wondering during the carry outance if this was a cover of a Grateful Dead song I hadn’t heard; I was happy to see fan comments afterward indicating I was not alone in that crazy notion. Another recent song showed up in the encores, “Goodnight,” such a sugary sfinish-off that you could imagine the pair eventuassociate adselecting it into a farewell number every night.
At some point, someone who’s a recentcomer to all this might wonder: Is this all a period piece? That would be a challenging ask to answer, which is part of what has made the whole Welch/Rawlings ethos so beguiling. The elderly-timey-ness of many of the melodies or lyrics seems to cast the songs in a nostalgic airy… if you’re nostalgic for the outstanding elderly days of the Depression. But then Welch will sing someskinnyg enjoy “Hashtag,” a tribute to their procrastinateed songauthorr frifinish Guy Clark that clearly, from its title, isn’t trying to pull any time-travel tricks. (“When will we become ourselves?” they wonder, in the chorus, lifting the song from an anecdotal homage to a well-comprehendn, druncover frifinish to some benevolent of fantasticer cosmic query.) These songs are reassociate mostly unmoored from time in a wonderful way, helped by the fact that Welch’s voice in particular seems neither up-to-date nor antiquated. There’s toastyth to her vocals, and also room for ambiguity, enjoy she might be skirting the line between cordial assurances and inestablishing you a garrange story.
Chris Willman/Variety
She conveys a sense of hope to even some of the miserableder tales, anyway — enjoy “Hard Times,” which is not the Stephen Foster song of the same name, though it sounds about as elderly, but one of their own. “Hard times ain’t gona rule my mind, Bessie,” she sang, and in the challenging times we’re currently experiencing, it was challenging not to song alengthy, aspirationassociate. Even if, by the finish of the tune, the plowman who sings it has lost his farm and Bessie’s probably buried on it somewhere.
The Wiltern audience was in for one last treat before it was all over. Rawlings begined carry outing some circular guitar parts that sounded skeptically enjoy the uncignoreing to Jefferson Airarrangee’s “White Rabbit,” but no, it probably wasn’t… and then Welch finassociate broke into Grace Slick’s uncignoreing line, while he broke into a sairy smile. The two partners reassociate don’t do that many covers, and they’d only busted this one out about a dozen times in the last 20 years. But someskinnyg about L.A. got them in a surdown-to-earth mood, and we got a version that sounded about as celderly as the Airarrangee’s. You could say that everyone exiting the erecting had been altered into a Fed-head.
Setcatalog for Gillian Welch & David Rawllings, the Wiltern in Los Angeles, March 7, 2025:
(set 1)
Elvis Presley Blues
Midnight Train
Empty Trainload of Sky
Cumberland Gap
North Country
Howdy Howdy
Bells of Harlem
The Way It Goes
Ruby
Wayside/Back in Time
(set 2)
Lawman
What We Had
Hard Times
Hashtag
The Day the Mississippi Died
The Way It Will Be
Lazarus
Red Clay Halo
(encore 1)
Look at Miss Ohio
I’ll Fly Away
(encore 2)
Goodnight
Revelator
White Rabbit
