Country Guitar Hero Brown Gets Down at Cat's Cradle

Junior Brown
Cat's Cradle

Perhaps the most telling moment at Saturday's Junior Brown show was when Brown took a break.

Even when gone for only a few seconds, he was missed.

Junior Brown -- for what it's worth -- was alone on stage. Without Brown, his band was little more than country/Western elevator music. But Brown took few breathers.

On his red ax , a double-necked "guit-steel" that combines electric and steel guitars, the man was a technician. Always cool, relentlessly calculated, a mumbling genius -- Junior Brown flung around blues, neo-country and surf rock with unparalleled spontaneity and exacting grace.

Calling Austin, Texas, his home since the early '90s, Brown has gleaned a wildly varied fan base, a notion emphatically obvious Saturday night. Divided into standing room and seating sections, the Cat's Cradle served as a venue for his younger fans to rock out and for his older, more sedated fans to, well, rock out while sitting.

The only contemporary artist on Life Magazine's "All Time Country Band," Brown's show was essentially an instrumental showcase. Brown played from deep in his discography with cuts from his 1993 record Guit With It without ignoring crowd favorites "Highway Patrol" and "Freeborn Man."

For the most part, his songs rolled and meshed together, forming what seemed like a two-hour guitar solo.

In the tradition of Stevie Ray Vaughan and Jonny Lang, Brown's lyrics were secondary to the rigorous picking and wailing of his guitar. The portrait of concentration under a beard and cowboy hat, Brown picked out ferocious note after ferocious note.

While his band played essentially in darkness, a warm, blue light cast a haunting glow on Brown crouching over his instrument, hopping from Texas-style country to surf rock with the distinction of Chet Atkins opening for Dick Dale. Even studio-tame "Gal From Oklahoma" was jump-started in concert with heavier tempos and blazing guitar licks. In a moment of live magic, Brown joined drummer Pete Amaral on his lone snare. Four sticks pounding deafening tones provided flavorful intermission for the continuing solo.

Once glaring admiration subsided, though, the show seemed to drag at times. Boredom was absent, but absolute enjoyment was lost due to the apparent detachment of Brown himself. A humble Texas gentleman, Brown's subtle, down-home demeanor equaled sparse interaction with his fans.

Brown's showmanship appeared at times, but these personable moments left an ultimately unsatisfied yearning for yet one more dose of Southern charm.

Not that it mattered -- the audience went berserk upon every utterance out of the man's mouth. An encore that included Hendrix classic "Foxy Lady" evoked further hysterics as Brown's personalized rendition failed to merely cover the song -- on that stage in Carrboro, he made it partly his own.

After all, Guitar Magazine rated Brown as the "No. 1 House Rocker" in 1997, and that still holds true. He rocks hard -- not to mention with skill and precision -- though his show wasn't the best in the world. Let's just say it couldn't have been better, but it still wasn't great. Admiration doesn't always make fulfilling entertainment, it seems.

Even genius guitar players can have dry moments on stage.

The Arts & Entertainment Editor can be reached at artsdesk@unc.edu.