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Saturday, November 13, 2004
Alan Jackson and Martina McBride play Philips
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Martina McBride is a big ol’ deal these days. But even with three consecutive Country Music Awards for Female Vocalist of the Year, she still doesn’t headline over Alan Jackson.
Jackson, the Newnan native with the golden mustache and the burnished baritone voice, still stands as a dominating force in country music. He’s sold more than 40 million records, as a video display Friday night at Philips Arena helpfully noted, and he’s pretty much the embodiment of neo-traditionalism.
While country music thrashes between the young ’n’ punk sensibilities of Big & Rich and Gretchen Wilson and the tinny country-pop of Faith Hill (and, at times, McBride), Jackson stays the course laid out by George Jones: he turns simple, pure country songs into hits by virtue of his authenticity. He’s as durable as a D battery and as reliable as the sunrise.
McBride is a different kind of artist. She had an hour to Jackson’s 90 minutes Friday, and she used her time to illustrate the virtues of her throat. This woman is a belter. She can do a peppy hit like “This One’s For The Girls,� but her heart seems to be more into her whomping super-ballads. Rearrange the instrumentation and McBride is Celine Dion.
It all became clear when the Kansas native sang “Over the Rainbow.â€? The song’s second syllable — “someWHERE…â€? — is a diva moment, and she was all over it. Next time you hear “How Farâ€? on the radio, listen for the way McBride pounces in a similar situation.
Alan Jackson does not pounce. He saunters. In hat and boots he looks about 11-feet tall on stage, and he likes to amble from side to side tossing guitar picks into the crowd.
He sounded great in concert, so smooth and so professional. He touched on his new album, “What I Do,� (a record whose title he momentarily forgot during some stage patter), but mostly he played old familiar tunes: “Drive,� “Little Bitty,� “Chattahoochee� and so on.
He also did his Sept. 11 song, “Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning,� which holds up increasingly well, and his nostalgic “Remember When,� a ballad that, like so many Jackson songs, feels utterly true.
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