Marty Stuart & His Fabulous Superlatives

The Arches

Richard Bull reports

As the Transatlantic Sessions were genially unfolding in the polite surroundings of the Royal Concert Hall, downtown there was a riot going on. A riot in Nudie suits with flashing rhinestones. A riot of 鈥渉igh-octane hillbilly music鈥�. Marty and his Fabulous Superlatives had been snowed in at Newark Airport for 48 hours, on their way from Nashville, but they鈥檇 just made it in time and they weren鈥檛 about to disappoint.

A new name on the Celtic Connections bill, so to offer some background...

When was barely a teenager he was playing guitar and mandolin for the legendary . Later he played in 鈥檚 band and enjoyed country hits in his own right. His isn鈥檛 a studied take on country music, it鈥檚 the real stuff. He鈥檚 a masterful musician, a born entertainer, and a guardian of the music鈥檚 tradition.

鈥淗e鈥檚 the natural inheritor of 鈥檚 legacy,鈥� said the Professor, 鈥檚 illustrious producer and my companion for the evening.

And indeed it turned out that Marty鈥檚 battered telecaster previously belonged to White, the pioneering country guitarist best known for his time with . In tribute Marty and his band sped through Hummingbyrd, which took up where White鈥檚 Nashville West left off, and had the Professor hopping from one foot to the other.

Not always a sympathetic venue, the Arches proved the ideal location, with talking, drinking, shouting and the occasional passing train creating a honky-tonk ambience. 鈥淭hat is the gospel train, ladies and gentlemen,鈥� said Marty. 鈥淎nyone wanna go?鈥�

And so the band switched between honky tonk, gospel, bluegrass and balladry, never easing up the energy or the entertainment. They covered hits, classics and new songs. They played loud and wild, high and lonesome, and from the heart. Marty brought a tear to the collective eye with the story of Johnny Cash and the fruit trees, leading into Marty鈥檚 tribute song, Dark Bird.

鈥淣othing outstays its welcome. Boom!鈥� said the Professor.

It was one of those gigs where each personality in the band sparkled 鈥� like the rhinestones on their suits. Marty named them as the Apostle Paul Martin on bass, Handsome Harry Stinson on drums and Cousin Kenny Vaughan on guitar. Handsome Harry almost stole the show with his held notes and high parts in the gospel set.

The only shame was the curfew falling when both the crowd and the band wanted more, but what we did get was a wildly entertaining all-round show to remind us of everything great about country music.

The Professor鈥檚 conclusion: 鈥淔abulously superlative!鈥�

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