The faithful and the downtrodden mingled at the corner of Lawrence and Broadway on the rough northeast side of Chicago. A scrawny panhandler in a faded red jacket worked his way through the waiting crowd, trying to piece together enough change to buy his own brand of deliverance. As lobby doors opened, concert-goers haltingly made their way inside, passing stern-faced, hard-bitten staff who patted down anyone and everyone, searching for contraband (even a glass of water sold for $1.00 inside the doors). Once the initial crowd had dissipated, street people and the homeless trudged through the outer doors seeking a momentary respite from the chill outside.

The glory days of the Riviera Theater are long gone. Its walls and cavernous interior are suffused with a hardened grittiness reflective of the surrounding area. The price of the ticket gets you in the door but, hey, this ain't no drive-up convenience store type of venue. There would still be 'a toll to pay' in stinging eyes, ringing ears and weary feet.

All vestiges of comfort have been expelled from the building save for a few rows of hardened creaky chairs in the balcony and liquid refreshments for purchase. The theater's purple walls are merely funky now. The gold trim work surrealistically ornate. Women, consider yourselves damn lucky that someone bothered to ink in the word "Ladies" above the archway to one of the restrooms. Otherwise, it would have been anyone's guess (maybe it never really mattered ?).

If you got tired of hanging on to stuff during the night, you could set your belongings or brew on the, well, floor, or on the single row of benches beneath the metal rail used as a crowd control barrier. The benches, scarred and sodden, were covered with small ash piles and beers in various stages of spillage, attesting to their dual purpose as ashtrays and cup-holders.

It was just so right that peerless musician/artist/writer/singer Steve Earle chose the Riviera for his first New Year's Eve concert in 12 years. He has this thing for Chicago, you see, and Chicago for him. And, well, Earle's music -- gritty, hard, and honest -- is more suited to the Rivieras of the world than dinner theater venues.

"This is the first New Year's Eve show I've played since 1987," said Earle, whose on-stage quips, song introductions, and commentary are as anticipated and entertaining as his music. "There's a reason for that. I was playing with Carl Perkins down in Dallas, Texas and I had a confrontation with a Dallas police officer that cost me about $100,000 and a night in the penitentiary. So...I don't get out much on New Year's Eve."

Earle opened his 9:30 p.m. set with the probable title cut from his next album, Transcendental Blues, then launched into the classic "Nowhere Road," and "I Feel Alright," the latter song's rebellious spirit captured perfectly in one of the most well-placed, emphatic, meaningful "huh's" ever recorded.

"I was watching New Year's Eve around the world," continued Earle after his opening numbers, "and nothing really f**ked up happened yet. Except for Kenny G in front of a tall building in New York. That was pretty funny. It's kind of strange, George Harrison gets stabbed in his home and Kenny G was standing on the tallest building in New York and nobody would even throw a tomato at him."

Earle continued his performance with "Hard Core Troubadour," "Someday," the darkly eerie "Taneytown" and the compellingly beautiful, "My Old Friend the Blues."

Earle went on to introduce his next number, "Telephone Road." " I'm from Texas and Texas is a f**ked-up place." This is a song about a part of Texas I saw when I first got out on my own. Don't go looking for this place in Texas now. It was 1972 or 1973 when I first saw it and it's changed completely now."

After "More Than I Can Do," Earle introduced "Now She's Gone" by stating "so as not to break the tradition or to jinx us, this song goes out to what's her name, wherever the hell she is."

"Fearless Heart" was up next, Earle calling it a total "chick song" which he then followed up by a total guy song," Devil's Right Hand." Earle continued along that theme speaking of the new album, "It [the new album] is going to be 15 tracks. My sister Stacey will be on there and there is, I have to admit, an inordinate proportion of 'chick songs' on this record because I am stupid in love."

"I Ain't Ever Satisfied," and "Mystery Train Part II" followed, and Earle preceded "Guitar Town" with a mention that it was "the first song I ever played in Chicago 14 1/2 years ago."

One of the high points of the evening was when Earle launched into a 2 1/2-minute mandolin solo. When it became evident that the haunting, gaelic-tinged number was a lead-in to"Copperhead Road," one could feel the electricity in the audience build and explode.

"N.Y.C.," which Earle dedicated to the "Supersuckers, wherever they are" closed the set.

Earle’s rocking three-song encore raised the energy level of an already raucous crowd. "The Unrepentant," a song from the new album, and the Stones’ "Dead Flowers" were a great ending to a great evening.

Not to make light of Earle’s admitted past drug and alcohol problems, but he, himself, is an incurable addiction for all true believers. His Texas twang can lull listeners with its sweet sensuality or smack them between the eyes with its stark anger. The "heys" and "huhs" that punctuate his songs are riveting emotional exclamation points, the random foot stomp an emphatic signal of the fervent passion within.

The last day of the 20th century found Steve Earle looking and sounding better than ever. Can’t wait for the year 2000 to unfold.

Steve Earle at the Texas Uprising
Steve Earle at the Fox Theater, Boulder, CO
Steve Earle Photo Album

Mountain West Music 2002