On their unusual and surprisingly touching Raising Sand record, the unlikely pairing of Robert Plant and Alison Krauss – the Led Zeppelin wailer and the classy bluegrass sweetheart – turned out to be magical. The collaboration was actually effortless in concert at Red Rocks Amphtitheater on Saturday night, in a set that represented what Plant described as “the America I have always loved musically” – deep, dark blues, rockabily, country and Celtic-by-way-of-Appalachian songs.
Much credit to producer T-Bone Burnett and the crack touring band he assembled. There was no uneasy push or pull – just Plant and Krauss duetting and whispering backings for each other in the slow-burning sonic landscapes expertly tailored by drummer “Mighty” Jay Bellerose, guitarist Buddy Miller, upright bassist Dennis Crouch and multi-instrumentalist Stuart Duncan.
Fans didn't know what would follow next as the two iconic figures shared their maverick spirit. Highlights included the opening “Rich Woman,” which struck an optimistic mood with the sold-out crowd . . . plaintive readings of Doc Watson’s “Your Long Journey” and the Plant/Jimmy Page beauty “Please Read The Letter” . . . Plant, Duncan and Miller forming a gospel quartet with Krauss on “Down To The River To Pray” from the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack (which Burnett produced) . . . the Zeppelin gems “The Battle of Evermore,” fitting Plant’s emotive voice with Krauss’s mighty harmony, and “Black Dog,” turned into a swampy march with Duncan’s ghostly banjo . . . the “rocker” of the evening, “Gone Gone Gone (Done Moved On),” a minor mid-Sixties hit for the Everly Brothers . . . Plant’s “In The Mood,” which segued into the English folk ballad “Matty Groves” . . . Allen Toussaint’s “Fortune Teller,” playing to Krauss’ wordless vocal in the background . . . Duncan’s elegaic performance of “Green Pastures” with Krauss . . . and Burnett’s two fine numbers, including “Bon Temps Rouler,” offered with the wish that there could be a WPA (Works Progress Administration) for New Orleans like there had been for Red Rocks.
Plant was particularly engaged, celebrating the summer solstice (“...the night of the longest day!”) and substituting Red Rocks for Stonehenge as his party pad. His stomping take on Townes Van Zandt’s “Nothin’” sounded harrowing, and he introduced an encore of “One Woman Man,” a song first popularized by old-school country star Johnny Horton, with a pop quiz: “Who knows about the Singing Fisherman?,” he asked with a laugh.
You have to hand it to Plant, who is still resisting the temptation to recreate the Zeppelin halcyon days (for now). There’s no way his aging voice can strain for the old hard-hollering glory. Instead, he’s stepping out of his comfort zone and indulging his passions, a reminder that grizzled rock gods can grow old with verve and grace.