Margo Price played at The Commonwealth Room in Salt Lake City on November 11 and we’re all a little better off for having witnessed the easy breeziness of it. Her show collected all the best sorts like a friend magnet (the smilers, the huggers, the vibers) and we shouted, sang, and yeehawed through the fast 18-song set they dropped in under 90 minutes. It was a good remedy for a Tuesday, and a lasting antidote for the whole damn week.
Given a couple days to stew on her performance, I’ve decided on a new thing I love about Margo: how put together her shows are. It reminded me of my growing-up-in-Branson days, regularly witnessing shows put on by tried-and-true acts of a forgotten era that included the likes of The Mandrell Sisters and The Oak Ridge Boys. It’s a slick, well-oiled creation they’ve crafted, and everything moved effortlessly from one scene and song to its inevitable next. The show was planned out and the attention to detail shines. Sure, deciding to ride into the venue on the back of a motorcycle may have been added last minute, but throwing out red flowers at the tail end sure wasn’t. Both deserve applause. It’s the small additions that get you remembered. That and your voice. And melodies. And a lead guitarist that tears into solos at the drop of a (cowboy) hat.
Highlights for these ears included the band’s take on Gram Parsons (their “Hands” was golden), Bob Dylan (“Maggie’s Farm” never gets old), and her own “Don’t Let The Bastards Get Your Down” is a fine phrase and tune. As fun as it is to write and say, it’s that much more an added thrill to sing along with the songstress. Pretty much the point, too.
Photo galleries by Natalie Simpson & Nathan Christianson. IG: @beehivephotovideo & @npcplus.
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