We've always known Alison Krauss possessed an angel's voice, but who would have thought a stand-up comedian lurked beneath that hauntingly beautiful soprano.
You could chalk it up the over-the-counter cold medicine Afrin, which was doing wonders to clear up her congestion, she told her audience of 5,500 at Tucson Arena Tuesday night.
She was similarly under the weather when Krauss and Union Station featuring Jerry Douglas had to cancel their planned Tucson concert last March.
But on Tuesday, she was perky and quirky, poking fun at her bandmates in delicious comic timing and even poking fun at herself. She confessed at one point to having a "Dukes of Hazzard" pillowcase as a teen. She drooled on it so much that she would wake up to find it sticking to her face.
"I can't believe I told you that," she muttered, and stand-up bass Barry Bales told her she could've made a killing selling the pillowcase on eBay.
Granted, much of the repartee between Krauss and her band of bluegrass players — arguably the most talented assembled on one stage in the country — was choreographed. They are known for sticking with a set list, and it's safe to assume some of their interaction also is scripted.
But the talk proved to be pleasant filler for the music and music makers.
Dobro player Douglas — who is largely regarded as the instrument's foremost master — let loose with a resonating warble on an extended solo turn. Dan Tyminski alternated between mandolin and acoustic guitar and seemed to steal the show on "I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow" — he was the voice coming out of George Clooney's mouth in the movie "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" Guitarist Ron Block showed off steely chops on guitar and banjo while bassist Bales, who towers almost as tall as his instrument, proved to be a fine harmony vocalist.
But it was Krauss' inspired soprano that took your breath away when she sang her pop-country hits "When You Say Nothing At All" and "Oh, Atlanta," and a catalogue of richly layered bluegrass tunes.
The concert's highlight came at the end, when Krauss and Union Station sang the Appalachian gospel "Down to the River to Pray" a capella. It truly was worth waiting eight months for that fleeting moment.
