Listening to Allison Moorer play live, it is hard to believe that anything has changed in Nashville in several decades. Her songs are steeped in country tradition; occasionally, in a hum of organ or a slightly tilted guitar solo, the music of her pared-back band hints at adventure, but Moorer shies away from its possibilities. She suggests visions of Loretta Lynn performing 40 years ago at the Grand Ole Opry. Not that Moorer sounds anything like Lynn: in fact, her powerful voice bears a rather troubling resemblance to Cher's. Every note rumbles up from deep within; when she sings, she holds her hand to her chest, as if trying to prevent the emotion bursting out.
But as muted heartbroken ballad follows muted heartbroken ballad, Moorer's set proves faintly numbing. The Hardest Part, the first song of the night, sets the tone: "The hardest part of living is loving, because loving turns to leaving every time." With that sort of attitude, it's not surprising that the tender let's-make-love-all-night song Steal the Sun seems mostly concerned that disaster will come with dawn.
Moorer emerges in her songs as a soft-centred, easily trampled elf, an impression underscored by her street-urchin's cap and ability to sweat demurely. But between songs, an unexpected force emerges. She can make the most insipid chit-chat - "We've been touring for two weeks and gotten lost in every city" - sound like a vixen's come-on, and when she invites the audience to sing along to Bully Jones, it is in a drawling southern voice that brooks no refusal.
When that fierceness finds its way into the music, Moorer is devastating. She has the old folk trick of singing about violence with serene, savage joy, particularly on Ruby Jewel Was Here, a rape-and-murder ditty set in Sam Peckinpah's wild west. She is more withdrawn and troubled on Cold Cold Earth, a disturbing narrative of a man shooting his wife and then himself (as her father did). This is followed by the swaggering, swampy Dying Breed, almost a celebration of destructive impulses. "I feel like I've taken my clothes off in front of you," Moorer says flirtatiously when it ends. Actually, it feels as if she has taken a knife to her skin and exposed her heart. It remains concealed during the rest of the set, for all that she sings of love.
