Concert review: Charlie Robison at Hank’s Texas Grill (March 6)

by Staff of The Gobblers Knob

Well, after taking many months to make my second trip to Hank’s Texas Grill for a show, it only took a mere two weeks to make my third visit to what has easily become one of my top 2-3 music venues in the DFW area on Friday night. Even though my past visits were to catch performances from Jackson Taylor and Band of Heathens, this was going to be better than even those. Not only would I be catching my first Charlie Robison show in at least a couple of years, I would also be interviewing him and recording a song or two while hanging on his bus for the 9513.Com Podcast that I host.

It was surreal for me to hang with him and the band for a few minutes and Charlie couldn’t have been a sweeter guy (perhaps he sensed my man-crush on him), but I won't bore you with details of the interview or of the song he played for me ("Beautiful Day," which is the title track of the album due in June from Dualtone) - you’ll be able to catch that soon enough on The 9513.Com. After conducting another interview with New Braunfels upstart Zack Walther, I headed back into Hank’s to catch Charlie’s show only having missed the first couple of songs.

Robison’s band was tight, thanks to a run of several straight nights throughout the Southeast, and I walked up in time to catch "You’re Not the Best," and then "Sunset Boulevard," both from the Life of the Party disc. Robison doesn't seem to get too experimental with the set-list, and that suits me just fine, as his concerts go from an “audience-watching-a-performer” dynamic to an all-out pub-style sing-along, thanks to reliable, rollicking ditties such as

"John O’ Riley," "Barlight," “Love Means Never Having to Say You’re Hungry” and "Loving County." The latter tune often beats me down when done in concert, as it is a relatively quiet story song that gets fouled up by the drunk frat-boys (who often are no longer boys and instead are just d-bags now approaching their mid-30’s) that hug each other as they raise their beers and yell, “..in the lights of Lovin’ County." On this night however, “Loving County” proved to be downright thrilling, as pedal steel player Kim Deschamps, sent soaring notes into the smokey night air with such authority, I would’ve swore I saw a former frat-boy cry (well, I did, but it was because his fellow former frat-boy wouldn’t reciprocate a seemingly much needed butt-slap that the crying former frat-boy had given his compatriot).

CHEESE ALERT #1! When Robison busted out with “El Cerrito Place”, goosebumps literally formed on my arms as the bass drum pounded, the lights blared onto the stage and Robison belted out “I’ve been looking for ya baby” for the first time as the crowd (again) sang along as if auditioning for the Harlem Boys Choir. While it isn't in my top few favorite songs of his, the entire package that came in the form of that song’s performance was just plain cool. Robison then finished out the set at that point, and after a fake departure, came back and played two more new songs (he had played “Down Again” during regular set), “Beautiful Day” and to my delight, “Nothin’ Better to Do,” which is a cover of my favorite track from Bare Jr.’s debut album. The night was fittingly capped with “Hometown”, which is as amazing to hear now as it was 10 years ago for this ol’ blogger.

I often try to leave copious amounts of gushing and sentimentality out of my blog posts, and I try to give who ever may be reading a clear picture with a few oddball comments thrown in to get my point across. That said (CHEESE ALERT #2), I freaking love Charlie Robison and seeing him live Friday night proved to be as emotional for me as it was entertaining. He isn’t the edgy blogger’s darling that Hayes Carll or Ryan Bingham are (which is certainly well-deserved for those guys). While Robison still attracts decent crowds around the country, younger acts such as Randy Rogers Band, Cross Canadian Ragweed and even Eli Young Band (that hurts to say) are considered “hotter” Texas drawing cards on a national scale. His buds from the old days, Pat Green and Jack Ingram have found the Nashville stardom that was once within Robison’s reach, even though he seems to be happy that he didn’t quite attain that specific style of fame. Even with all of this going on, Robison hasn’t been left behind. He seems poised to remind everyone that not only is he still a powerful figure (the place was packed with hundreds and tables had to be moved, even as the crowd spilled into the parking lot), and a dynamite entertainer, but that he is coming back soon to take his well-deserved spot at the top of the Texas heap.