Review by Shawn Perry
There’s a first time for everything, and tonight was my first Lynyrd Skynyrd concert. I came close to seeing them in the mid 70s, before the tragic plane crash that took the lives of Ronnie Van Zant, Steve Gaines and his sister Casey. They were playing Anaheim Stadium with Aerosmith, and I was on my way to the show when I got a call from a friend who was there.
He wanted me to pick him up. “But I’m on my way there,” I told him. “You got tickets?” He asked. “Nope.” There was a long pause, then “Don’t bother. Come pick me up. I’ll buy you lunch.” So I took a free lunch over seeing the classic Lynyrd Skynyrd lineup.
Now, after a couple other passed opportunities, I almost feel like I’m too late. Everyone’s gone except Gary Rossington. And they say he only shows up when he’s up for it. After the plane crash, it started out as a tribute. Now they use the Lynyrd Skynyrd name without reservation. Is it the real deal? Is anything the real deal anymore? There’s some debate about that, but I was about to find out. And what better place than the Ryman, “the church of country music,” as singer Johnny Van Zant would call it throughout the evening.
Earlier this year, Van Zant announced that Skynyrd was set to retire from the road after a career that has spanned more than 40 years and includes a catalog of 60 plus albums and over 30 million units sold. Tonight, it was more about celebrating 50 years of Lynyrd Skynyrd, with plans for more shows next year. The pandemic has postponed several farewell tours, which tend to get postponed for any number of reasons.
Expectations about Rossington’s appearance were quickly dashed when he showed up on stage for “That Smell” and never left. That alone lent a substantial air of authenticity to tonight’s performance. Having guitarists Rickey Medlocke and Mark Matejka, plus additional help from Damon Johnson and bassist Keith Christopher, all there to help flex the Skynyrd guitar muscle, provided the support it needed to sustain the legacy.
The country music community loves Skynyrd, so it was no surprise to hear tonight’s show would be filmed by PBS, and that plenty of Nashville-based guests would be making appearances. “Workin’ for MCA” featured John Osborne on guitar, while Marcus King came up to sing and play guitar on “Saturday Night Special.” Jelly Roll earned the distinction of duetting with Van Zant on “Tuesday’s Gone” and Brent Smith joined in on “Simple Man.” The only duet that made any real sense was “Red White & Blue (Love It or Leave),” a song Van Zant wrote and performed with his older brother, Donnie.
Along with that alignment of guitars that lifted “I Know A Little” and “Gimme Three Steps,” you couldn’t deny how much Peter Keys emulates the great Billy Powell on keyboards, especially on numbers like “Call Me The Breeze.” Longstanding drummer Michael Cartellone kept it in the pocket all night without deviating from the proven Skynryd formula. Of course, the Honkettes, led by Dale Krantz-Rossington, were at stage left. piping in the harmonies.
For the encore of “Freebird,” Rossington was off stage, so Van Zant stopped the song, announced that they needed the guitarist because they were filming a PBS special and this was the big finale. After a couple of minutes, Rossington was back, Keys struck up the note-perfect intro and off they went. At one point there was Ronnie Van Zant on the big screen on the backdrop, singing a verse. It was a novel tribute to the man and the iconic song that more than one clever audience member yelled for after every other song.
I left the show feeling like I had finally seen Lynyrd Skynyrd. The purists and naysayers say I missed out on seeing the “real” band. “It’s a tribute,” they say. The aura of Ronnie Van Zant, Billy Powell, Steve Gaines, and other members who have passed on was ever-present at the Ryman. There was even a virtual candlelight vigil. Whatever you want to call it, the music was ultimately the star of the show. To hear it played by capable players with a history and connection to Lynyrd Skynyrd was all I could ever ask for.
