They came for different reasons. One fondly recalled a father’s gift of a first album. Another talked of the star who had been a member of their Arizona church. Still others remembered the concerts or the TV show or the artist’s early hard living.
Michael Neibergall and Kathryn Rogers
On a farewell tour after a diagnosis of dementia, Glen Campbell gave the multivaried crowd his all at the Long Center on Sunday. The voice is still there, deepened and darkened with time. The guitar playing is still nothing short of astounding.
The lyrics, however, returned only with the help of prompters and the short bursts of patter did not always make sense. Or, when they did, his remarks were endearingly unedited. (“You like this song,” he says to a longtime sideman. “You cry during this song.”
Mike and Margarita Raupe
While many in audience cheered and sang along during bright-light hits such as “Rhinestone Cowboy” or “Southern Nights,” my heart belonged to the crossover gems written by the incredible Jimmy Webb.
Tinged with melancholy and social commentary, “By the Time I Get to Phoenix,” “Wichita Lineman” and, especially, “Galveston” brought back unresolved heartaches from four decades ago. I didn’t even know Webb wrote “The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress,” a harrowing song I associate with songstress Judy Collins.
Janet and Andy Graham
My companion for the evening was not born by the time Campbell recorded his last hit. For him, it was an education. And, it seems, a pleasure. Hard to explain this country pop outlier without being there.