There's something about the idea of a Cowboy Junkies show at New York's 1,000-capacity Irving Plaza that instills fear in serious Junkies fans. It's something about being ingested by that swaying, faceless amoeba that is the concert crowd. It's about having to put away those headphones that brought you and sultry singer Margo Timmins together for that wonderfully intimate duet of "If I Were the Woman and You Were the Man." It's basically about having to share Margo -- having to step aside, rather look down, and watch that small man crammed under your armpit sing along to your song thinking he's "the man" she's singing to.

But it turns out there are plenty of generous fans out there willing to share their Margo, and Irving Plaza was indeed packed. The Cowboy Junkies suddenly didn't feel much like that cultish, best-kept-secret band of a few years back. The opening act, Over the Rhine, set the melancholy mood with Junkies-like songs, dutifully leaving the crowd desperate for the real thing. When the time came, Margo sauntered on stage and took her spot next to a huge bouquet of flowers. Her brother, Michael Timmins, grabbed a guitar and took a seat with his back to the audience. It all felt just right.

The opening song, "Crescent Moon," seemed a suitable starter, but Margo and Co. hurried through it with an unfortunate lack of heart. It wasn't really until the third song, "Blue Guitar," that the band had each audience member swaying in trance-like attention -- the Junkies-fan's version of the affirming head thrash. The combination of tie-dye colors swirling on the sheet hung behind the stage, the wavering, atmospheric keyboards, the steady tambourine and Michael's deeply resonating, pulsing guitar solo set the band's signature, brooding mood, and it all flowed effortlessly from there. The highlight of the show, "Misguided Angel," followed. Margo had the audience in the palm of her hand, and the crowd followed her every move. The confessional nature of the next few songs had Margo singing to the floor while slumping over the mic. Favorites such as "Oregon Hill" and "Anniversary Song" (the Junkies' only self-proclaimed "happy" song) catered to fans by staying true to the album versions.

Between songs, Margo continued to charm the crowd with stories of her haunted hotel stay and quips about her fear of falling off her stool. Beautifully languid renditions of "Blue Moon (Revisited)" and the Velvet Underground's "Sweet Jane" were followed by a mellow encore of "Highway Kind," written by Timmins family favorite Townes Van Zandt. By the end, all fears had been laid to rest. Margo never fell off her stool, the Junkies delivered a surprisingly intimate set, and fans went home, once again, to their headphones.

BEN BRASHARES
(January 21, 1999)