Bluegrass | Spirit of Cecilia

Alison Krauss & Union Station featuring Jerry Douglas, Meijer Gardens Amphitheatre, Grand Rapids, Michigan, September 5, 2025.

Over three decades, Alison Krauss has parleyed her singing and fiddling skills into an international career that (with the help of a Coen Brothers movie or two) brought bluegrass back to the masses and boosted her into an orbit of musical celebrity shared by few. But in the wake of her second collaboration with rock god Robert Plant, Krauss went back to her beginnings, reconvening her long-time band Union Station after a ten-year hiatus, with a new album and a six-month tour on the agenda. And that’s how, on the first genuinely chilly evening of Meijer Gardens’ concert season, Krauss and company wound up onstage in winter gear, getting down to business with relish, drawing a sold-out audience huddled beneath layers of Gore-Tex and fuzzy blankets toward their blossoming circle of musical warmth and light.

Not that Krauss & Union Station’s music is all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. The tunes featured from their new album Arcadia were about (in this order): loneliness; a factory fire disaster; loneliness again; a mysterious stranger terrorizing a small town; and getting shut down on the make. In fact, some of the most compelling vocal moments were the darkest – Krauss’ spooky solo turn on “Ghost In This House”, Russell Moore’s bone-chilling folk narrative “The Hangman”. And there was melancholy galore in the mainstays of the band’s back-catalog: “Every Time You Say Goodbye”, “Let Me Touch You For A While” (“our one sexy song”, according to Krauss), revamped 1970s soul classic “Now That I’ve Found You”, and a spare, devastating cover of Willie Nelson’s “Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground.”

But while sad songs say so much, they weren’t the only emotion on offer; for every heartbreaker, there was an anthem to survival and resilience like the new “One Ray of Shine” and the classic “Forget About It.” In these tunes especially, Krauss showed her consummate range and interpretive skill, pattering out the verses to draw us into the story, then launching into the high lonesome choruses (often cradled by Union Station’s understated vocal harmony) to finish the job. While that sweet, supple voice is Krauss’ foremost calling card, she’s also consistently savvy with her vocal gift, knowing how to blend in tart, savory, even spicy flavors as the music requires.

So there were humor and high spirits aplenty to set off all the sadness too. Whether commiserating with us about the weather (“You all look like Paw and Laura under the blankets in the back of the wagon”), or slyly teasing her bandmates (guitarist/banjo player/songwriter Ron Block was introduced as “our sexy librarian — and a recovering vegetarian”), Krauss combined downhome deadpan with a mischievous gleam in her eye whenever she addressed the audience. And when Union Station launched into hoedowns “Choctaw Hayride”, “Sawing On the Strings” and Bill Monroe’s “Cluck Old Hen”, she leaned right in, hunkering down on rhythm fiddle as Block, violin/mandolin wizard Stuart Duncan and dobro legend Jerry Douglas tore it up over Barry Bales’ resonating bass.

Douglas proved equally riveting in his extended solo spot, a weird and wonderful medley of Paul Simon’s brooding “American Tune” and Chick Corea’s festive “Spain”. Extra kudos go to Russell Moore as well: slotting into the male lead vocal spot formerly held by long-time stalwart Dan Tyminski, he brought home the bacon on both the back catalog and the upbeat “(Crazy ‘Bout A) North Side Gal” (which, in Krauss’ words, “covered three important topics – geographical location; mental wellness; and gender.”)

Ultimately, a concert by Alison Krauss & Union Station comes down to first-rate musicians playing and singing deceptively simple yet deeply affecting music, at the highest level of technical brilliance and visceral commitment, to stunning effect. But if anything, the extended encore, where the sextet gathered around a single microphone to harmonize with minimal instrumentation, sounded even richer depths. As the gentle love song “When You Say Nothing At All”, the weeper “Whiskey Lullaby”, the traditional spiritual “Down to the River to Pray” and Block’s moving confession of faith “There Is A Reason” wafted into the chill of the night, it settled over the rapt crowd like a bluegrass benediction to provide a thoroughly satisying finish. Put simply: hear and see them live if you can.

— Rick Krueger

Setlist:

Looks Like the End of the Road
Granite Mills
Choctaw Hayride
Sawing on the Strings
Rain Please Go Away
Every Time You Say Goodbye
Cluck Old Hen
The Lucky One
Ghost in This House
I Don’t Believe You’ve Met My Baby
Baby, Now That I’ve Found You
Wish I Still Had You
Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground
Let Me Touch You for Awhile
American Tune (Jerry Douglas solo)
Spain (Jerry Douglas solo)
Dust Bowl Children
The Boy Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn
Lie Awake
The Hangman
Orange Blossom Special
One Ray of Shine
Restless
North Side Gal
Forget About It
Paper Airplane
Gravity
When You Say Nothing at All
Whiskey Lullaby
Down to the River to Pray
A Living Prayer
When He Reached Down His Hand for Me
There is a Reason

“Country musicians first performed on radio in 1922, and, within a few years, radio stations initiated the first barn dances — ensemble variety programs with the relaxed, chatty atmosphere of a family gathering.”

— the Country Music Hall of Fame & Museum’s exhibit “The Dawn of Country.”

Heading south for our most recent vacation, we finished up in Nashville — and I wasn’t going to visit Music City without taking in at least one show. After catching Ringo Starr at the historic Ryman Auditorium proved prohibitively expensive, I pivoted to the spot all the travel guides (as well as local friends) had recommended in the first place — the weekly Saturday night performance at the Grand Ole Opry.

Make no mistake: coming up on its 98th year, the Opry is a well-tuned corporate machine, effortlessly parting multitudes from their cash with a smile — but it’s also an affordably priced, entertainingly old-school variety show. Broadcast live in multiple formats, the program consciously carries on traditions developed from its radio roots through country music’s ongoing breakout to the broader public (and if you’ve ever wondered where Garrison Keillor got the idea for A Prairie Home Companion, look no further). Regularly booking a mix of promising rookies and seasoned veterans, inviting rising stars to become “family members” and providing an environment open to impromptu guest shots and team-ups, the Opry deliberately claims a gatekeeper role, anointing a core of artists that cover a fairly broad spectrum of what country music is today. With no mass-culture superstars on the bill, September 23rd’s Opry was an enjoyable example of how all this works in practice.

To kick it all off, throwback quartet Riders in the Sky stepped to the mikes, blending smooth harmonies and lively instrumental work into affectionate renditions of vintage cowboy songs and Western swing. There were plenty of corny antics, too; bassist Too Slim provoked fiddler Woody Paul into a face-slapping “Dueling Banjos” duet as guitarist Ranger Doug and accordionist Joey the Cowpolka King looked on in bemusement. (It’s no surprise that, in his true identity of satirical college journalist Fred LaBour, Too Slim convinced the counterculture that Paul McCartney was dead back in 1969.) But after we’d laughed ourselves silly, these long-time Opry members cooled us down with the gorgeous title track off their latest album Throw A Saddle On A Star, then whipped up a fiddle-focused hoedown for an exhilarating finish.

Making her second Opry appearance, vocalist Riley Clemmons was an engaging bundle of nerves, nearly beside herself with excitement that she’d been asked to return. But emotions of the moment and self-deprecating jokes about her advanced age of 23 aside, Clemmons was all business, making the most of her short set. An enthusiastic crooner in the Carrie Underwood mold, she put across her faith-based songs “Church Pew” (her new album’s title track) and “Jesus Cries” with plenty of heartfelt sentiment, ably backed by the Opry’s onstage band and backup singers.

20-year-old singer/guitarist Sam Barber was next up, the first of two debut performers taking the leap from streaming services to the Opry stage. Exhibiting raw yet remarkably well-honed talent, Barber’s unsoftened Missouri accent (complete with occasional growl from the gut) and his determined strumming on “Straight and Narrow” (the first song he wrote, at the age of 16) grabbed the audience hard and strong in his acoustic solo slot.

Recent Opry inductee Charlie McCoy, one of those multi-instrumental Nashville cats who’s played on albums by everybody (Elvis, Dylan, Willie & Waylon, etc. etc. ) in the course of 12,000 sessions, brought the first half of the show to a rousing finish. After laconically drawling a humorous ditty about the consequences of “Thinking with My Heart” (“A heart doesn’t know how to figure out/ Whether to run or to jump/It ain’t got a clue; zero IQ/After all it’s just a pump”), McCoy pulled out his trademark harmonicas for a lyrical film score excerpt, then a lightning-fast “Orange Blossom Special” that nearly left the band eating his dust — and left the audience hungry for more. Cue the intermission!