Report: Kris Kristofferson Live In Cali

Bobby McGee's best friend, somewhat weathered but still unbowed, pack ‘em in at Cambell, Ca. venue the Heritage Theatre on Jan. 13.

By Jud Cost

Watching Jeff Bridges play down-and-out country singer Bad Blake in Crazy Heart one day, then going to see Country Music Hall of Fame member Kris Kristofferson the next night wasn't really that much of a stretch. While the hard-drinking, chain-smoking, skirt-chasing Blake was pretty much the author of his own misfortune, Kristofferson's problem seems to be one we'll all face one day, if we're lucky: He's just getting old.

The visibly nervous, silver-thatched former Rhodes scholar, Army captain and helicopter pilot, now 73, had vocal problems right out of the chute that must have caused the audience to blink hard. Was that really Kris Kristofferson up there, the same guy who played opposite Barbra Streisand in 1976 film A Star Is Born? His haunting baritone pipes have morphed over the years into a senior citizen's reedy tenor. The intonation these days sounds closer to Gabby Hayes than Isaac Hayes. But, with an overflow crowd of 600 at Campbell's Heritage Theatre firmly in his corner, Kristofferson loosened up considerably as the night wore on. His guitar playing, unfortunately, was another matter, entirely. While finger-picking simple patterns on an acoustic, he frequently muffed endings or lost the thread completely, sometimes abandoning a song as soon as he ran into trouble.

Of course, the one thing Kristofferson will never lose is an armload of some of the 20th century's finest songs, and he played them all tonight. "Me And Bobby McGee," a posthumous hit for former girlfriend Janis Joplin in 1971, sounded particularly fine with Kristofferson blowing away on a harmonica strapped to a rack. He also regaled the crowd with the time he and Dylan accomplice Bob Neuwirth visited Byrds founder Roger McGuinn in southern California. "McGuinn had an entire wall of television sets, and one of them even monitored his driveway." Kristofferson proceeded to write a tune about McGuinn's neighbors putting on an impromptu talent show/audition in front of his driveway camera. "One guy even played 'Temptation' on kazoo," he chuckled.

The crowd got an unexpected hearty laugh when Kristofferson dedicated a number to a list of deceased performers that included Hank Williams, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and John Lennon. Someone who didn't get it shouted out "George Jones!" to which Kristofferson replied, "George Jones isn't dead. He's just old! There's a difference between being old and dead."

The venerated career signposts-"Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I'll Ever Do Again)," "Beat The Devil" and "Help Me Make It Through The Night"-sprinkled judiciously throughout the two short sets, were like lifebuoys that Kristofferson clung to in choppy waters. At the conclusion of the latter song, he got a rousing response by blurting out: "George Bush and Dick Cheney were singing that song in the shower together this morning!" Nobody, it should be noted, got up and left. And Joan Baez, reportedly in attendance up in the balcony, must have loved it.

Campbell, Calif., a tight-assed little town on the western border of sprawling metropolis San Jose, seems an odd place for a music venue these days. But there was a time 30 years ago when the burg seethed with tiny joints like Smokey Mountain and the Bodega. The latter club hosted a pair of splendid nights that featured the Ramones in early 1977, then the Talking Heads later that year accompanied by Eddie & the Hot Rods. My brother, the Campbell police chief at the time, put an end to all that in the late-‘80s, shutting them all down. More recently, John Padilla has presented a handful of intimate living-room shows in Campbell by the Posies, John Doe and Paul Collins.

The Kristofferson song that made everything right in Campbell tonight (and signaled the beginning of the end of the evening) was his ace in the hole, "Sunday Morning Coming Down." His original version, cut almost 40 years ago, was so perfectly rendered it even topped a fine cover by Johnny Cash: "Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt/And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad so I had one more for dessert/Then I fumbled through my closet for my cleanest dirty shirt/And I shaved my face and I combed my hair and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day."

The best songs of the Nashville-based songwriter who once penned country hits for Dave Dudley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Faron Young and Roger Miller are full of finely-crafted lyrics that light up the night sky, they're so good. Lines like "just enough silence to breathe" stay with you long after the show has ended. A short version of "For The Good Times"-a career-defining 1970 smash Kristofferson wrote for Ray Price-ended the night on a high note.

As I stumbled back to the car I noticed a tin can lying in the gutter outside the theatre. I thought about kicking it, but I cussed it instead, left it for the next kid who comes along and went home and fried some chicken.