Feb. 21--The charmed life Jason Isbell has been enjoying for the past two-plus years continued Saturday at a sold-out Chicago Theatre. Fresh from winning two Grammys earlier in the week, the singer-songwriter turned in a 110-minute concert sparked by riveting narratives, unusual depth and soulful emotion. Just how lucky can one guy be? Isbell even got to play side-by-side with his wife, violinist Amanda Shires, who doesn't always tour with the band.
Good fortune followed the 37-year-old Alabama native ever since he got sober and released the largely autobiographical "Southeastern" album in summer 2013. Back then, Isbell was still primarily known as a former member of the Drive-By Truckers and performing in small clubs. Word-of-mouth recommendations and two critically acclaimed records raised his profile. Yet as he introduced songs by name onstage, Isbell made it clear he's taking nothing for granted -- and realizes some newer fans might not even know his history with the Truckers.
Such modesty guided more than Isbell's approach. It also defined a body of work concerned with preserving identity, dignity and place in an everyday world where fractured relationships, stressful jobs and sudden uncertainties cause disarray. Singing with an easygoing Southern accent, and echoing the detailed simplicity of Chicago folk icon John Prine, Isbell often outlined the personalities of characters and established vivid settings within the span of a few lines. Twists arrived thereafter. His backing quintet, the 400 Unit, provided background scenery with refined accents and colors.
The combination proved the equivalent of experiencing a 70-millimeter film: Songs came into sharper focus and traversed broader landscapes than their recorded counterparts. "Children of Children" resonated and reflected, with an extended coda giving it a panoramic feel. "Cover Me Up" witnessed Isbell pushing his voice to heartfelt extremes, Shires responding with gorgeous melodies and mallet-thwacked percussion bringing the escalating tune to a climax. During the country-tinged "Speed Trap Town," lasting images and tough decisions lingered in the wake of crying slide guitars.
Isbell's ongoing evolution into an elite artist was evident not only from well-organized arrangements that balanced honest grit and low-key grace, but via mature perspectives that expanded on the commonsense advice he dished on "Outfit." Stripped-back fare like "Something More Than Free" and "If It Takes a Lifetime" blended roots music with an expressed desire to remain grounded -- and recognize what really matters. Watching a joyous Isbell stare into Shires' eyes on "Flagship," a hushed love song modeled on subtlety, indicated his priorities in order and his potential unlimited.
Bob Gendron is a freelance critic.
