Lyle Lovett and His Long-Playing—I Mean Large—Band: Hit-Hit-Should-Have-Been-Hit Night at Red Butte


By Jennifer J. Johnson|[email protected]

In introducing the Wednesday night’s show, Red Butte Garden’s Executive Director Greg Lee seemed to attempt to bait the crowd and get a rise out of them by mentioning Lyle Lovett’s being next up at the ampitheatre, just a few days later.

It was admittedly, shockingly, surprising that the audience seemed a bit, well meh.

This, after all, was Lyle Lovett, one of the crowned princes of Red Butte, someone who should surely be knighted by a signature plant from the garden, if there were such a thing.

Well, evidently the Wednesday-night Galactic-KDTU concert-goers may not have been the same ones showing, en masse, to Sunday’s Lyle Lovett for nothing less than a musical star-studded spectacular evening.

Eighth time—still a charm

Lyle Lovett and His Large Band’s Red Butte show was the eighth time for the Grammy-awarded, multi-genre’d Texan with almost as many acting credits as musical notations.

When Lyle Lovett plays Red Butte, yes, there is heavenly music—of numerous genres, seemingly flowing like a musical, but the with the comfort of spontaneity, paired with the formality of a ballroom performance, augmented by the relaxation with a campfire roast, where, yes, you could take a break, but you don’t.

Why would you?

It’s Lyle freakin’ Lovett.

Straight up, straight through

LL and HLB do not hold intermissions. To do so? It would break the chemistry, the connection, the hold they share with the audience.

25 songs by my count.

25 songs—each its own unit, but flowing, as scripted, to the next.

It all started with instrumental—Sort of like a variety or talk show. They just did not tolerate lyrics.

Then the decades of music intermix, with LL and HLB usually electing to perform two tunes from the same year, before mixing it up about a decade or so.

For example (and, I know this is making you jealous if you were not there)—

It starts from the near-start. Song No. 2 is 1992’s “Pants Is Overrated,” followed by “You've Been So Good Up to Now.”

Mid-concert, it is “Gee Baby, Ain’t I Good to You,” followed by “Straighten Up and Fly Right.”

Toward the end of the concert, it is 1987’s “If I Had a Boat,” followed by “She’s No Lady.” 

Right after that? It’s 1992’s “Here I Am,” followed by “Church.”

And then there’s the close, which gives me ideas for a song I would write.

With him, ‘til the non-bitter end

An exceptionally cool thing about LL and HLB? There is minimal concert attrition. No sneaking out early to not be caught in traffic, no elderly’s fears of being out late. We filled up the tank, we napped, we Lovetted. You could leave, but you don’t. After all, it’s Lyle freakin’ Lovett.

There you have the start of a next-year song. Now someone write its 2020 pairing.

Lyle Lovett has to be one of the best concerts on the planet. He saves many of his early-Country, initial genre-defining tools for the end, pitches his band mates’ records and songs, but not his own, sequesters photographers (dang it, LL) from the front of the show area, and it seems the concert does not go by a minute, not a single minute, where you don’t hear a hit—or what your mind knows is a hit, even if Billboard messed up.

And, true confession: I know his acting far better than I know his music. I tolerated the lyrics.