Steve at Telluride #4: Lovell Every Minute of It
The Lovell Sisters
Who’s your favorite Lovell Sister? Mine’s definitely Megan, the blonde dobro player who never stops smiling. Or maybe it’s Rebecca, the pretty mando-maiden, who plays the group’s tightest solos. Then again, Jessica is the charismatic ringer here—a little spitfire fiddler and the group’s best singer who steps up to the mic like she by-gawd means it. She stands no more than 5’4” in her cowboy boots, but she swaggers like she’s packing a punch for all-comers, the kind of gal who likes to have one foot on the dance floor and one elbow on the bar.
I’m sure the Lovells are fed-the-hell-up with Dixie Chick comparisons, so I’ll try to go another way. The Lovell Sisters are like Destiny’s Child if Destiny’s Child were white country chicks who wore blue jeans and played holy hell out of their own bluegrass instruments. Okay, I can’t resist. These are Dixie Chicks for arena-phobes who feel like the Chicks got too glam after Wide Open Spaces. Plus, Jess, Becs, ‘n’ Megz are just kids—their political crucifixion and fertility dramas are still ahead of them. For now, what you see is what you get: Three rollerskate-skinny Georgia peaches, beaming with fresh oomph and barn-dance combustion.
They had a tough spot today following two legends, especially Megan, playing after the world’s best dobro player, but the Sisters, on bluegrass’s most imposing stage, stepped up and played with fire and confidence—Megan even dedicated a swift version of “Choctaw Hayride” to Jerry. Make no mistake—the Lovells are no novelty; they’re the real deal, and as effusive as they were about being overwhelmed by the beauty of playing here, the crowd gave them lots of love right back.