I have loved the music of Gillian Welch ever since hearing "Elvis Presley Blues" in, of all places, a Boston Starbucks seven years ago.  I found out years later while watching "The Revelator Collection" DVD that she doesn't make those sounds by herself; that Dave Rawlings' contribution to their music is an equal and important part of their hybrid sensibility.  Still years later, Rawlings is finally getting top billing.  The two are touring under the moniker the Dave Rawlings Machine--and it's good to see him get due credit.

    How the Machine differs from a Gillian Welch tour is unclear, though they've traveled under different names before.  But if the rest of their stops are anything like the January 6th show in Los Angeles, the Machine's performances are playful, and deceptively informal--consisting of mostly cover tunes, and even more surprise guests.
 
    Both musicians claimed that for the entirety of the two and a half hour show, they hadn't bothered to make a set list.  The lack of structure was never problematic though; in fact, it just impressed the audience even more.  They opened quietly with the traditional "Diamond Joe," followed by Rawlings' anthemic "I Hear Them All."  He tends to start the first few chords of a song without signaling Welch, leaving her to catch up--which she unfailingly does--in the next few.  It's a dynamic that seems contrary to their otherwise harmonic sound, but Welch doesn't seem to mind.  She actually smiles a bit when he does it. Rawlings also once wryly referred to her as "my rhythm guitar player," but she didn't seem to mind that either. 

    Of course, it's probably difficult to stick to a set list with ten musicians backstage waiting for a chance to play a song with you.  Indie-folk artist Jenny Lewis joined Rawlings for a heartbreaking rendering of "Love Hurts," and OCMS's Willy Watson came onstage for a few, including "We're All In This Together."  The Watkinses helped out with the Blue Sky Boys' "Turn Your Radio On," and Jackson Browne played one from his newest album.  Almost all guest players crowded the stage for the night's highlight, a raucous cover of Bob Dylan's "Queen Jane Approximately."

    But what to make of a tour that includes no new, or any of their most well-loved songs?  It's been almost six years since "Soul Journey," and if we're to take these shows at face value, there's nothing new in the vault--or at least nothing new they're ready to reveal.  I, for one, don't mind.  Hearing covers from your favorite artists is like having a conversation about their own favorites, their influences, and the other musicians they respect.  And with Welch and Rawlings, even these covers are meticulously arranged, modified to fit their distinctive sound, and always include a trademark Rawlings solo.  For example, I once read that in college, Welch took a lot of acid, a fact which perhaps explains Wednesday's encore.  Laughing to each other, Rawlings asked the tech board to "put an obscene amount of reverb on Gill's voice."  They then slipped into Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit," an odd choice for a duo that primarily writes songs about orphans, migrant laborers, and early American landscapes.  But at that moment, it wasn't difficult to imagine Welch and Rawlings as a folked-up Grace Slick and Paul Kantner, playing whatever they want, and sounding damn good while they do it.