Maybe Steve Martin is more naturally talented and and industrious than the rest of us. But Friday night’s show proved that there’s another thing he’s good at: surrounding himself with talented people, in this case, the Steep Canyon Rangers, a phenomenal bluegrass band out of Asheville, North Carolina.
Martin knows it, too. He played the part of the obnoxious, spoiled taskmaster (you know, Steve Martin), but plenty of times he left the spotlight to the Rangers, including the banjo player, Graham Sharp.
It was unclear how much of the audience came for the bluegrass and how much came for the comedy. In any case, they got plenty of both. Plus a special guest appearance by Martin’s dog Wally, a phlegmatic yellow Labrador who wandered onstage during the rollicking instrumental “The Crow,” lay down at Martin’s feet and yawned.
He was likely the only one did for the entire hour and a half the band was onstage.
A few weeks ago in Slate, Nathan Heller suggested that the key to Martin’s entire performance oeuvre is nostalgia. That’s partially true — who the hell plays the banjo anymore? — but, as Martin wrote in the second number, “Daddy Played the Banjo,” “a memory of what never was became the good old days.” Instead Martin pays tribute to the old bluegrass melodies and then subverts them into a different kind of bluegrass song.
After the Steep Canyon Rangers brought the house down with the old spiritual “I Can’t Sit Down,” which they sung in exquisite four-part harmony, Martin joined them onstage and distributed copies of “the atheist hymnal”: a single sheet containing the lyrics to “Atheists Don’t Have No Songs.” (“In their songs they have one rule: The ‘h’ in ‘him’ is always lowercase.”) The Ramblers again sang in harmony. Martin joined in loudly, proudly and gloriously (and deliberately) off-key.
There were musical jokes, too: In “Wally on the Run,” Nicky Sanders’ fiddle played the “role” of Wally (who, sadly, was led backstage at the end of “The Crow” and never re-emerged), barking and whining and galumphing happily after a rubber ball.
But perhaps the epitome of how well Martin and the band play off each other was “Jubiliation Day.” In traditional bluegrass, this would be a song about, well, the Jubilee. Here it becomes a celebration of a breakup, endorsed by both Dear Abby and Martin’s shrink. “I’ll be over you by lunchtime!” Martin mock-snarled. “The sex was great…or that’s what my best friend’s brother said. Let’s keep in touch!”
So glad they got a great review!!! Too bad he called them the ‘Ramblers’ instead of the Rangers…. 😉