This is Bella White’s first time in London—on her previous attempt, she was forced to cancel the show. To be fair, it’s quite the place to make up for it.
Appearing as a duo with drummer Sam, her songs are fragile but still manage to fill the venue with real warmth. Whether it’s “Broke When I Realised” or “Little Things” (“a new song, because why not”), there’s a quiet skill in what she does.
A short set (“It’s quick and dirty,” she smiles) leans heavily on what she calls her “mommy-daddy divorce songs,” like “The Way I Oughta Go”—but they’re particularly well done. “Stuff,” meanwhile, is named as a kind of homage to Lucinda Williams, who would surely appreciate the storytelling.
She’s solo for “Just Like Leaving,” her final song, and you sense an artist who’s comfortable being vulnerable on stage. Bella White’s first trip to London is one she—and the audience—will remember.
All of a sudden, when Charles Wesley Godwin and his Dirt Road Boys turn up, a rock show breaks out. “Cue Country Roads,” indeed.
There’s stoicism in these lyrics. “All Again” is proud to possess the bluest of collars, and the seven-piece are adept at the tender ones too, as the acoustics of “It’s the Little Things” show—although it takes on a totally different energy here compared to the recent EP.
“Temporary Town” benefits from some gorgeous pedal steel, and the sadness in the words is reflected when he talks about missing his family, before the emotionally charged “Dance in the Rain,” which he dedicates to his little girl.
“Another Leaf” is another that lays its heart on the stage. But it’s leaving on the train tonight—it’s glad to be here, ready as it is for a hoedown, an energy that “Hardwood Floors” keeps up.
And as he puts it himself, “There’s only one way for a West Virginia boy to end the set,” and “Take Me Home, Country Roads” does its thing. The roads Charles Wesley Godwin is on, though, are taking him to the very top.
At 9:08 p.m., Eric Church walks out on stage at the Royal Albert Hall for his second night — his only European shows of the year. At 11:21, he walks off.
What happened in between defies any normal gig description. But let’s defy normal review convention too, then, shall we — and begin with the conclusion: it was completely and utterly sensational.
Church — one of the biggest country stars in the world, but also one who is happy to blur its lines and push its boundaries — is giving the second-ever performance of “To Beat the Devil” outside of the US.
That, for the uninitiated, means it’s just Eric, his guitar, and his life story. Kinda. In reality, it’s an exploration of the power of music and the hold it has over everyone in this room.
It also means songs that were never — and will never be — recorded (Church is clear on this), but ones which tell this story. His story.
Which means “Broadway Lights” sees him arrive as a wide-eyed, brash kid. “Mr. Heeney” gives him advice in a bar (and if you look at the credits for “Drink In My Hand,” he co-wrote a massive hit), before the struggles — as a songwriter, as a man, as a brother — nearly break him.
Some of the songs are done in snippet form (almost to colour the story that Church tells); others, like “Lightning,” are played in full but are given such incredible energy, especially considering the nature of the show. (I’m purposely trying to avoid the word gig.)
Church — in his trademark shades and sipping a beer — is a gifted storyteller, captivating people for over two hours (barring one idiot who shouts “Play the whole song!” and thereby misses the point entirely).
“On the Road” tells the story of a time on tour, which includes a spell with Rascal Flatts (look it up on Google), giving way to Taylor Swift, and a brilliant story about Toby Keith. It bridges the gap to when he released Chief and essentially became the biggest artist in America. “Country Music Jesus” is the only one from that era played in full — because, really, this performance isn’t about that.
It’s about “Record Year,” which represents his desire not to make what he terms “Chief 2.” But even more, it’s about the year that sees him desperately ill and grieving after his brother dies. All of which gives the quite astonishing “Church Boys” a real edge — and 5,000 people a lump in their throats.
He’s just released a new album and speaks so movingly about taking his boys to school the day after a school shooting in Nashville, which inspired the song “Johnny” from that new record.
He plays this with a choir — who are incredible — and they remain for the next two songs.
After all the pain, he’d promised “redemption,” and it comes in the shape of “Take Me to the River” and the lovely “Hell of a View.”
As he looks out on one of the world’s most beautiful venues, at the crowd who have hung on every word, thousands of miles from home, its title must seem apt.
What happened here tonight usually happens in The Chief’s own bar in Nashville — a venue he says he created to feel informal and like he was “in your living room.”
This is as far away from that as you can get, but it was quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Such bravery and skill take genius — and I think that’s a fair description for what Eric Church did here.
