Rodney Crowell has been a fixture in the Nashville music establishment for more than five decades. While he’s achieved his greatest success with over artists covering his songs, he’s a fine performer in his own right, which he more than showed in his recent appearance at the Lincoln Theatre, with a set that spanned the length of his remarkable career.
Crowell grew up in a hardscrabble neighborhood on the east side of Houston, which he sang about on Oct. 23 in “Telephone Road,” from his largely autobiographical The Houston Kid. He had a turbulent youth: His father, who played in local country bands, had a drinking problem. When he was growing, Rodney was often drawn across the state line to Louisiana. Introducing “21 Song Salute,” from his latest album, this year’s Airline Highway (named for a stretch of the legendary Highway 61, a nod to Bob Dylan, who is one of his influences), he talked about how, when he was 14, he’d go there to hear a band called the Boogie Kings, who played Cajun-influenced R&B. Being underage, they couldn’t get into the club — they could hear the music from outside — but there was usually an adult who would buy them beer.
Louisiana, and his love for the people, culture, and music, is a subject he’s been writing about throughout his career. In an intimate moment, Crowell brought out opening act The Secret Sisters to sing “Leaving Louisiana in the Broad Daylight,” from his classic debut album Ain’t Livin’ Long Like This. They did it “old-timey style,” gathered around a single mic, with just Rodney’s acoustic guitar for instrumental accompaniment.
Watch the official music video for “Leaving Louisiana in the Broad Daylight” by Rodney Crowell on YouTube:
“21 Song Salute” mashes up lines from many of his influences, going up just to the line of what could get him in trouble. Among are GG Shin, the lead singer of the Boogie Kings, who passed away last year; Cleona Falcon, who, in 1927, became the first recorded Cajun musician; and Lighting Hopkins (“Mojo Hand”), the Big Bopper (“Be-Bop-A-Lu-La”), Carl Perkins (“Blue Suede Shoes”), Robert Johnson (“Dust My Broom”), Sly & The Family Stone (“Poppa was a Rolling Stone”), Hank Williams (“Lovesick Blues”), Waylon Jennings (“Only Daddy That’ll Walk The Line”), and John Fogerty (“Down on the Corner”).
Steve Satzberg, who shot the photos accompanying this article, observed how Crowell has had sort of a Forrest Gump-like musical journey. When he first arrived in Nashville, he joined a clique of songwriters centered around Guy and Susanna Clark that also included Steve Earle and John Hiatt. (The documentary Heartworn Highways gets up close with them before any of them became stars.) One night, when he got home very late from his job as a dishwasher — a job he said he enjoyed because of all the half-finished drinks that came back — he found the mercurial Townes Van Zandt there. Townes played him what’s become his most famous song, “Pancho and Lefty.” At the Lincoln Theatre, he invited the audience to stand up and sing along with the chorus.
In the late ’70s, Rodney joined Emmylou Harris’s Hot Band as a rhythm guitarist, also singing harmony vocals, but, more importantly, he wrote a number of songs she covered. Decades later, they’d reunite for a couple albums of duets, Old Yellow Moon and The Traveling Kind; he included one of those songs, “Open Season on My Heart,” in the set.
Around the same time, he also found himself in Europe following a girl. He didn’t name her, but that was Rosanne Cash, who he’d marry and produce several hit records for. He was dead broke, having “a couple of Willie Nelson t-shirts and a good pair of tennis shoes.” (Never underestimate the value of a good pair of tennis shoes: proper support for one’s feet is very important). When they were in Zurich, Switzerland, he wrote “Ain’t Got No Money.”
More than a decade later, he discovered two verses in his wife’s handwriting on his desk that hinted at how their marriage was dissolving. He finished the song, “I Hardly Know How to Be Myself”; for whatever reason, he said, Rosanne has never claimed credit for her contributions.
Coinciding with joining up with Harris, Rodney spent seven years in California. “I love California,” he said, “but I hate the desert.” I will say this for the desert: it’s not pretty, but it does offer some respite from seasonal allergies, which have bedeviled me my entire life, often developing into full-blown sinus infections. (I recently had one that I needed two different antibiotics and steroids, beyond my normal coterie of nose sprays and antihistamines, to get over. Fun times!) Anyway, he wrote “Rainy Days in California” with Lukas Nelson to poke fun at the whole thing. In a strange coincidence, the night they wrote, southern California got is biggest “deluge” (there’s an SAT word!) in years.
Watch Rodney Crowell perform “Rainy Days in California” live for CBS Mornings on YouTube:
Speaking of ideas Rodney got from other people, “C’mon Funny Feeling” was inspired by a phrase the guitarist would often say. Rodney told Steuart it sounded like a song, and Steuart encouraged him to write. He told Steuart he wouldn’t give him writing credit, but he would tell this story.
Some of the songs have much heavier stories. “Still Learning How to Fly” was inspired by a friend who passed away from cancer. Crowell explained that, though the man knew it was his time, he had to put up a fight for his eight-year-old son, so he went through with a bone marrow transplant.
Several of Crowell’s are more famously associated with other artists. He opened with “Stars on the Water,” which was covered by Jimmy Buffet. Late in the set, he performed the outlaw anthem “Ain’t Livin’ Long Like This,” a hit for Waylon Jennings.
Rodney’s set also included “Ashes by Now,” which he wrote the day “Richard Nixon flew off in the helicopter” and “Frankie Please.” “This one is completely made up,” he said of “Loving You is the Only Way to Fly.” For “Taking Flight,” recorded as a duet with Ashley McBryde, keyboardist Jen Gunderman filled in pleasantly on vocals. “Lucky” and “Some Kind of Woman,” which is “as true as it gets,” are about his marriage. He sent the audience home with “Song for the Life,” which he dedicated to the memory of a friend.
We got a special treat in opening act The Secret Sisters, a duo of, as they emphasized “real sisters who like depressing music.” “When did you meet? I was two-and-half years old when she came home from the hospital and ruined my life.” I can relate: The day my parents brought my little sister home, when I was a little more than two, I picked up a stomach flu and vomited upon seeing this tiny person. Being from the Muscle Shoals area of Alabama, they appreciated getting “a proper fall treatment in your fine town.”
They introduced the first song, “Paperweight,” as “a little light-hearted and maybe romantic… about being tied down and liking it.” Before “Cabin,” one of the sisters mentioned how she is (visibly) pregnant with her third child, a boy due in February. The song, which was nominated for a Grammy (they lost to John Prine), “had its own original meaning” but has taken on new significance as they’ve become mothers and have tried to teach their children to be kind and avoid hurting people. They wrote “If the World Was a House” after the pandemic, when they were able to get together with co-writers in Nashville, about how, “at the end of the day, people are really good,” so “maybe it doesn’t matter so much who’s in the White House.” (I was reminded of an old clip I recently saw of wrestling commentator Gorilla Monsoon opining that it really didn’t matter who won, because they’re all owned by big business. If you’re wondering how my mind can jump among such wildly different things, well, it’s an interesting place, my head.)
Watch The Secret Sisters perform “If The World Was a House” live for The Current on YouTube:
“It’s a probably a dumb move,” The Secret Sisters said, “but we’re gonna play a cover song,” mentioning their love for classic country song before doing Jim Reeves’s “Four Walls.” They wrapped their set with “He’s Fine,” a particularly barbed tuned written about “a fella who hurt my feelings in my 20s.” I suppose I’m more forgiving: My last girlfriend broke up with me by email, and we’re still friends.
The folks who arrived early for The Secret Sisters — the evening began at 7pm, and was over by 10pm (and which, having to be up at 6am for work, I was quite pleased with) — really got a special treat. And, Rodney, of course, was terrific. The end of the set, when he switched to electric guitar — the first time I’ve seen him with one live — was especially strong and ended the festivities on a high note.
Here are some photos of Rodney Crowell performing live at the Lincoln Theatre in DC on Oct. 23, 2025. All pictures copyright and courtesy of Steve Satzberg.
Here are some photos of The Secret Sisters opening Rodney Crowell at the Lincoln Theatre in DC on Oct. 23, 2025. All pictures again copyright and courtesy of Steve Satzberg.

Thanks, very nice review with a nice style to it. You avoided the typical formulaic concert reviews. Well done. p.s…and props on the photos.