Concert Review: Lucinda Williams and Mike Campbell Perform the Blues at the Moody Theater

In a stunning tribute to Tom Petty, Lucinda Williams and Mike Campbell joined with their respective bands to play a mix of tear-jerking country, eclectic blues, and bittersweet tributes on Sept. 11.

Written by Rachel Joy Thomas

Image courtesy of ACL Live

One of the standout songwriters of her generation, Lucinda Williams, has remained a prevalent part of the Americana scene. The singer-songwriter shaped the world of country and blues through her simple but effective picture painting, thoughtful lyricism, and provocative voice. Attached to Mike Campbell & The Dirty Knobs, Williams continued her journey with music after a devastating stroke left her unable to play the guitar. Williams marches on with a new, refreshing tour across the country to perform tracks off of her 15th studio album: Stories from a Rock n Roll Heart. 

Unlike other tours, Williams opened for Mike Campbell & The Dirty Knobs, later joining them to perform songs in honor of Tom Petty, a friend and confidant who shaped the lives of every band member performing that night.  

Williams came to the stage in a black jean jacket sporting a clean pair of Converse. She hovered momentarily on the theater’s pristine, red rugs before moving toward the mic. The band burst into a groove, outlining the beginning of the track “Righteously” off her 2003 album World Without Tears. 

The singer-songwriter swayed side-to-side as she began singing the rock-focused track with her bandmates. Occasionally, technicians and sound crew would peer across the venue to ensure the microphone was where she needed it and later adjusted it throughout the show. 

In the crowd, a person shouted, “Car Wheels on A Gravel Road!” Williams knowingly looked toward the voice before the beginning notes of the all-too-famous track trickled into the venue. Then, in her aged, gravelly refrain, she recounted some favorite memories of a small town in a quaint fondness that reverberated across the venue’s walls. 

A tribute to Petty, “Stolen Moments,” left the crowd momentarily stunned by Williams's prolific account of her relationship with a personal hero. Williams had opened for Petty’s final concerts in September 2017 before he died of an accidental drug overdose. Devastated by the loss of her close friend, Williams started her writing process, first performing the song in October 2020 before her stroke. Releasing the ballad in Stories From A Rock n Roll Heart, she finally had the chance to perform it live, this time with former Heartbreakers in the crowd watching her. 

The multi-Grammy winner took the time to honor other influential figures in her life, performing the memorable and bittersweet “Lake Charles” during the show. Decades after the death of Clyde Woodard, Williams’s former boyfriend-turned-agent, the country singer found herself reminiscing about his deep love for Louisanna and desire to get away from Nacogdoches, Texas. She asked the crowd, “Y’all know where Nacogdoches is, right?” before starting the song, exciting the audience with a quick reference to a small, seemingly insignificant town in a very large state. 

Williams’s raspy croon echoed in the concert hall, tenderly asking, “Did an angel whisper in your ear / And hold you close and take away your fear / In those long last moments,” lamenting the loss of someone she hadn’t spoken to before his tragic death but whom she respected and deeply admired. 

Williams performed the song with tenacious confidence despite her health struggles, thanking her team for their help while moving through her set. From the sizzling ghost notes in “Port Arthur” to the warm, sincere vocals in “Jukebox,” Williams demonstrated her exquisite songwriting to the venue. Unaffected by her age and physical ailments, she exemplified strength and resilience despite being unable to play her classic Gibson J-45 anymore. 

Photo courtesy of Billboard

Her section of the show ended at 8:49 p.m., leaving the stage with “peace and love” while promising to return for a few tribute songs and a proper farewell at the backend. The Dirty Knobs, taking over for Williams, came to the stage at 9:33 p.m. after a lengthy reset of props, amplifiers, and equipment. 

The following section opened with “Shake These Blues,” a kaleidoscopic, dynamic switch from the heartfelt vocals Williams offered. Focusing heavily on guitar riffs, bluesy solos, and captivating crowd work, “Shake These Blues” became a mystical abyss of guitar-playing and atomic roots progressions. Steve Farrone, the band’s newly appointed drummer, added snappy fills to the already high-energy performance that shook the crowd into a roar. 

Background harmonies from fellow band newcomer Christopher Holt, added a higher inflection to the more heavy-handed twang in Campbell’s voice. Throughout the show, Holt jumped from the keyboard, to vocal harmonies, to guitar to play mind-numbing solos akin to the Vaughns or even Campbell himself. As the first track closed out, the two played together alongside bassist Lance Morrison for a gravitational performance, sucking the audience into a black hole of rock n’ roll. 

Continuing this trend throughout the night, the band would burn through different roots tracks, adding exhilarating performances, flattened notes, and sharp bending chords at the tail end of each song. Campbell would walk over to Holt and play his keyboard before returning to slide through notes on his guitar. Morrison naturally gravitated toward Farrone to exchange glances while playing their respective instruments, adding walking bass lines or thick drum fills. 

To start the band’s most famous song, “Fuck That Guy,” Campbell discussed previous memories of Texas, explaining that girls in the Lone Star State were always more attractive than anywhere else. Complimenting the crowd, he started strumming his guitar before sinking into the performance. Later, referencing his crowd work, the band slowed its performance to a standstill, with the bass and drums keeping time. Campbell spoke into the microphone, asking the Texas girls to sing along. “It ought to be a crime / He ain't no friend of mine / Fuck that guy,” he vocalized, letting everyone hear the lyrics before asking for a chant. 

Every girl wearing a cowboy hat or a lone star tanktop screamed, pushing all of the air out of their lungs, “fuck that guy!”  

Campbell then switched his direction to all the men in the audience. Soon, every man in the crowd was hollering, “fuck that guy,” in an almost-too-perfect harmony.

Finally, he roped the crowd into singing together, leading many concertgoers to smile like kids who accidentally said their first curse word. Campbell grinned, radiating gleeful happiness at the crowd’s participation before strumming his guitar and finishing the song. 

Toward the latter half of the concert, Campbell wielded an acoustic guitar, ready to perform a cut-off of Wildflowers that he co-wrote with Petty. “Don’t Fade On Me,” a swampy, intricate fingerstyle track that usually features a softer Petty without the flare of various bluesy effects pedals, now had his older compatriot performing it for him. Soft, fingerstyle guitar flowed from Campbell as he sang, “You were the one who made things different / You were the one who took me in / You were the one thing I could count on / Above all, you were my friend,” using Petty’s own words to highlight the ensuing grief after his death. 

“Don’t Fade On Me” was just an interlude; however, the gravelly and growling performance from The Dirty Knobs quickly returned to full form for their last track without Williams. Holt blasted into the next song and then continued vigorously playing through different progressions as they vibrated the concert venue. 

Williams made her return to the stage at 10:38 p.m., slowly walking toward an open microphone, hugging Campbell, then standing, ready to start “Change the Locks” from her 1980 self-titled album, Lucinda Williams. The Dirty Knobs frontman played a woozy, denim-washed harmonica to match Williams's deep, empathic vocals as they powered through their first conjoined show on-stage. 

They Performed Petty covers and Williams’s songs, with a few tracks by Campbell slipping into the mix. Williams, as always, sang with an expressive, gruff voice while Campbell took a step aside, often taking harmonica duties or offering more straightforward licks. 

As Williams performed “Metal Firecracker,” a couple on a lower balcony began to swing dance together, softly swaying to the music. Soon, other couples began to dance together in a beautiful harmony. Williams slowly serenaded, “Don’t tell anybody the secrets / Don’t tell anybody the secrets I told you.” Sounding more like a distant memory than abject heartbreak, the song’s soft belts and intonations sparked the audience to get up and sway to Farrone’s quiet cross-stick rhythms. 

Another Petty tribute, “Louisiana Rain,” featured vocals from Williams and Campbell, who united  to sing different parts of the chorus. Williams struggled to keep up with the song, singing slightly off-beat during specific segments. But anytime her vocals strayed, she looked to Campbell, who guided her with a sway of his hand or an encouraging word back to the song’s rhythm. 

The band stepped off the stage to close the night, leaving for only a minute before returning for an encore. Campbell and Farrone each linked an arm with Williams as they walked back onstage, helping her back to her place. “I love y’all,” Lucinda softly drawled into the mic before getting ready to start again. Campbell took over, thanking Williams for inviting and having them on the tour. The blues singer closed the night, saying, “Love someone and let them love you back,” before waiting for a count-in, segwaying into the infectious Petty song, “Runnin’ Down A Dream.” 

In a show chock-full of moments honoring the fallen, “Runnin’ Down A Dream” felt like more than a tribute; it was a genuine celebration of life and the ability to persist onward. As Williams put it during her part of the show, “[She’s] too mean to die” and “has a lot of fight left in her.” 

As she and Campbell sang, “I’m runnin' down a dream that never would've come to me / Workin' on a mystery, goin' wherever it leads / Runnin' down a dream,” the crowd cheered unanimously, passionately applauding the group. Then, Williams and the band stepped off the stage for a final time, looking out into the crowd on the first night of a long tour together.