(Orlando FL, Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts) There are plenty of country artists who can walk onto a stage decades into their career, sing the hits exactly as you remember them, and give you a perfectly enjoyable night. Then there’s Clint Black, who seems to have no interest in simply checking the boxes.
Friday night at Orlando’s Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts felt less like a trip through a catalog of familiar songs and more like a reminder of just how much musicianship sits underneath those songs in the first place.
Yes, Black still has that unmistakable, sincere voice. It hasn’t lost the character that made those early recordings so recognizable. But what stood out most to me was everything happening around that voice. The songs weren’t treated as fixed three- or four-minute pieces that simply needed to be reproduced on stage. They became opportunities for the entire band to play.
And that made a huge difference.
From the opening stretch of “The Shoes You’re Wearing,” “Summer’s Comin’” and “A Better Man,” it was obvious that this wasn’t going to be a show where the musicians simply provide background music while the singer carries the night. The instrumental breaks actually felt like part of the performance. They weren’t filler while Black caught his breath or waited for the next verse. They were chances to hear the personality of each instrument.
That became especially apparent with “State of Mind,” where the harmonica entrance came roaring in like a freight train. Then came “No Time to Kill,” introduced by a piano solo before Black stepped in with a guitar solo of his own. Those moments allowed the songs to stretch beyond their familiar recordings and gave the audience a chance to appreciate how much musical architecture exists inside Black’s material.
It’s easy to forget just how much of Black’s catalog is built around musicianship because the songwriting and his voice are so immediately recognizable. Black has written or co-written the overwhelming majority of his hit material, and Friday’s performance made the connection between songwriter and musician particularly obvious. He wasn’t simply singing songs he had written decades ago. He was still actively playing inside them.
The evening also benefited enormously from the chemistry of his band.
There’s something different about watching a group of musicians who have clearly spent years learning how to anticipate one another. Hayden Nicholas, Black’s longtime bandleader, lead guitarist and songwriting collaborator, has been with him from the beginning. Bassist Jake Willemain has also been part of Black’s musical world for decades; Black has previously told the story of finding Willemain playing in a jazz club.
That history showed.
Dwain Rowe handled the keyboards, Andy Hall was behind the drums, and multi-instrumentalist Jason Mowery helped fill out the instrumental palette. Black has toured with variations of this core group for years, and the musicianship has become almost conversational.
And Black made sure the audience knew that these weren’t anonymous players standing behind him.
The band introduction became its own little story. He talked about finding Hayden playing in Houston, Jake’s jazz-club connection, the musicians who came into his orbit along the way, and even the fact that drummer Andy Hall joined the group in 2020. Then there was the particularly personal introduction of his cousin Wes Fowler, who handles pedal steel.
That familial connection is more than a cute anecdote. It fits the larger theme of the night: this is a band that has history together.
You could hear that history in the way they traded solos.
“Worse” stripped things down beautifully, with Black alone with his guitar and harmonica before turning the ending over to the audience. Instead of simply singing the final lines himself, he had the crowd finish them. It was one of those spontaneous moments that made the enormous concert hall suddenly feel considerably smaller.
And then there was “Killin’ Time,” where the band introduction led into another extended display of musicianship.
That became one of the recurring themes of the evening: Black wasn’t afraid to get out of the way and let his musicians have their moments.
That seems particularly appropriate considering the musical lineage Black was celebrating throughout the night.
“Untanglin’ My Mind” provided the first major history lesson, as Black talked about Merle Haggard. The story of Haggard seeing Johnny Cash perform while he was incarcerated at San Quentin has become one of country music’s great origin stories. Cash’s prison performance occurred while Haggard was an inmate, and Haggard later credited the experience with helping inspire him to straighten out his life and pursue music.
There was an even more direct connection between Black and Haggard, though. “Untanglin’ My Mind” isn’t simply a song Black happens to perform. In 1991, while Black and Haggard were touring together, Haggard played Black fragments of the song. Black helped finish it, adding lyrics, and the song eventually became a Top Five country hit for Black in 1994. Haggard later recorded it himself.
So when Black moved into “Mama Tried,” it felt less like a cover and more like paying respect to someone who had been part of his own musical journey.
And Black clearly enjoyed inhabiting that history.
The other major tribute came near the end of the show with Waylon Jennings’ “Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way,” which Black famously adapted as “Are You Sure Waylon Done It This Way.” His 1999 D’Lectrified version actually featured an extended instrumental section and Jennings himself as a guest vocalist.
That history made Friday’s performance particularly meaningful. Black wasn’t simply borrowing Waylon’s song. He was revisiting a musical relationship and acknowledging the artist’s influence.
And the presentation drove that home, with the video appearance of Waylon on the screen while the band worked its way through the song. Piano, steel guitar, harmonica and guitar all had room to breathe. It was a fitting way to honor an artist whose music was always about individuality and letting the musicians play.
There was even a nod to Kris Kristofferson during the sequence, keeping the feeling of country music’s older generation very much alive on the stage.
But for all the history, this was never a museum piece.
Black was having fun.
His stories between songs were sometimes almost as entertaining as the songs themselves.
Before the unreleased “Now the Devil Doesn’t Live Here Anymore,” he joked with the Orlando audience — essentially telling everyone to settle down because “this is Orlando” — before explaining that he normally doesn’t perform songs he hasn’t recorded. Then came the revelation that the new song was written by a man known simply as: “Ernest.”
The humor paid off when the chorus arrived and the audience collectively realized where the lyrics were going. Suddenly people weren’t just listening to a new song; they were laughing at it together.
That willingness to experiment also made the show feel surprisingly current for an artist whose biggest hits date back more than three decades.
When Black talked about “Nothing’s News,” he took the audience back to 1989, when he was just 22 and trying to establish himself as a songwriter and singer. He talked about his father believing in him as a songwriter but being less convinced about him as a singer, and the wonderfully self-deprecating idea that maybe you haven’t lived enough yet to write great country songs.
Then he basically used the song as his rebuttal.
“Nobody’s Home” continued that early-career storytelling, with Black recalling the $150 demo recorded in Hayden’s garage and the Einstein-inspired idea behind the song: if people supposedly use only a fraction of their brain’s potential, what happens with all that unused space? His answer became the wonderfully country observation that the lights are on but nobody’s home.
By the time the show reached “A Good Run of Bad Luck,” the audience was fully invested. Black explained that the song was written at the last minute with Hayden Nicholas in 1989 and barely made the album. Judging by the reaction — people clapping, singing and eventually standing in their seats — nobody in Orlando seemed particularly concerned that it had once been considered an afterthought.
That song is a good example of another thing the night demonstrated: Black’s catalog has aged remarkably well because the songs don’t depend solely on nostalgia.
They still work.
The setlist itself is almost a condensed history of Black’s career. Songs from Killin’ Time, No Time to Kill, One Emotion, Nothin’ but the Taillights and The Hard Way all appeared during the night, with songs from his early albums making up a substantial portion of the performance.
And there is a thematic thread running through much of that material.
Time.
Mistakes.
Regret.
Bad decisions.
Moving on.
Trying to make sense of relationships.
Trying to make sense of yourself.
Even the titles tell part of the story: “A Better Man,” “Untanglin’ My Mind,” “State of Mind,” “No Time to Kill,” “Nothing’s News,” “Nobody’s Home,” “Walkin’ Away,” “Killin’ Time,” “A Good Run of Bad Luck,” “Tuckered Out” and “Nothin’ but the Taillights.”
These are songs about people trying to figure things out while life keeps moving.
And maybe that’s why they still sound so natural coming from Black more than 30 years later.
By the time “Waylon” arrived — the rapid-fire country history lesson that name-checks dozens of country artists — the show had essentially become a celebration of the genre itself. It wasn’t just about Clint Black anymore. It was about the musical world that influenced him and the artists who came before and alongside him.
Then came “Nothin’ but the Taillights,” followed by the encore, “We Tell Ourselves.”
And fittingly, “We Tell Ourselves” brought another opportunity for the musicians to stretch out. That’s been a recurring feature of Black’s live performances, where the entire band gets opportunities to step forward rather than simply supporting the singer from the shadows.
That’s probably what I’ll remember most about this particular Clint Black show.
Not simply that he sounded like Clint Black.
He did.
Not simply that he played the hits.
He did that, too.
It’s that he allowed the songs to become bigger than their original recordings.
The harmonica wasn’t just there because the song needed harmonica. The piano wasn’t just filling space between verses. The steel guitar wasn’t simply providing that familiar country texture. The guitar solos weren’t obligatory breaks inserted into the set.
They were the songs.
Black understands that country music is as much about the musicians playing around the story as it is about the singer telling it. And after decades of performing these songs, he seems comfortable enough with his band — and confident enough in his own musicianship — to let that become the centerpiece.
At the Dr. Phillips Center on Friday night, Clint Black wasn’t simply looking backward.
He was looking back, pulling pieces of that history into the present, and then giving his band enough room to remind everyone why those songs sounded so good in the first place.
And for a career that began with Killin’ Time back in 1989, there was something pretty satisfying about hearing those songs still have plenty of time left in them.
--Bailey Guinigundo
Friday night at Orlando’s Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts felt less like a trip through a catalog of familiar songs and more like a reminder of just how much musicianship sits underneath those songs in the first place.
Yes, Black still has that unmistakable, sincere voice. It hasn’t lost the character that made those early recordings so recognizable. But what stood out most to me was everything happening around that voice. The songs weren’t treated as fixed three- or four-minute pieces that simply needed to be reproduced on stage. They became opportunities for the entire band to play.
And that made a huge difference.
From the opening stretch of “The Shoes You’re Wearing,” “Summer’s Comin’” and “A Better Man,” it was obvious that this wasn’t going to be a show where the musicians simply provide background music while the singer carries the night. The instrumental breaks actually felt like part of the performance. They weren’t filler while Black caught his breath or waited for the next verse. They were chances to hear the personality of each instrument.
That became especially apparent with “State of Mind,” where the harmonica entrance came roaring in like a freight train. Then came “No Time to Kill,” introduced by a piano solo before Black stepped in with a guitar solo of his own. Those moments allowed the songs to stretch beyond their familiar recordings and gave the audience a chance to appreciate how much musical architecture exists inside Black’s material.
It’s easy to forget just how much of Black’s catalog is built around musicianship because the songwriting and his voice are so immediately recognizable. Black has written or co-written the overwhelming majority of his hit material, and Friday’s performance made the connection between songwriter and musician particularly obvious. He wasn’t simply singing songs he had written decades ago. He was still actively playing inside them.
The evening also benefited enormously from the chemistry of his band.
There’s something different about watching a group of musicians who have clearly spent years learning how to anticipate one another. Hayden Nicholas, Black’s longtime bandleader, lead guitarist and songwriting collaborator, has been with him from the beginning. Bassist Jake Willemain has also been part of Black’s musical world for decades; Black has previously told the story of finding Willemain playing in a jazz club.
That history showed.
Dwain Rowe handled the keyboards, Andy Hall was behind the drums, and multi-instrumentalist Jason Mowery helped fill out the instrumental palette. Black has toured with variations of this core group for years, and the musicianship has become almost conversational.
And Black made sure the audience knew that these weren’t anonymous players standing behind him.
The band introduction became its own little story. He talked about finding Hayden playing in Houston, Jake’s jazz-club connection, the musicians who came into his orbit along the way, and even the fact that drummer Andy Hall joined the group in 2020. Then there was the particularly personal introduction of his cousin Wes Fowler, who handles pedal steel.
That familial connection is more than a cute anecdote. It fits the larger theme of the night: this is a band that has history together.
You could hear that history in the way they traded solos.
“Worse” stripped things down beautifully, with Black alone with his guitar and harmonica before turning the ending over to the audience. Instead of simply singing the final lines himself, he had the crowd finish them. It was one of those spontaneous moments that made the enormous concert hall suddenly feel considerably smaller.
And then there was “Killin’ Time,” where the band introduction led into another extended display of musicianship.
That became one of the recurring themes of the evening: Black wasn’t afraid to get out of the way and let his musicians have their moments.
That seems particularly appropriate considering the musical lineage Black was celebrating throughout the night.
“Untanglin’ My Mind” provided the first major history lesson, as Black talked about Merle Haggard. The story of Haggard seeing Johnny Cash perform while he was incarcerated at San Quentin has become one of country music’s great origin stories. Cash’s prison performance occurred while Haggard was an inmate, and Haggard later credited the experience with helping inspire him to straighten out his life and pursue music.
There was an even more direct connection between Black and Haggard, though. “Untanglin’ My Mind” isn’t simply a song Black happens to perform. In 1991, while Black and Haggard were touring together, Haggard played Black fragments of the song. Black helped finish it, adding lyrics, and the song eventually became a Top Five country hit for Black in 1994. Haggard later recorded it himself.
So when Black moved into “Mama Tried,” it felt less like a cover and more like paying respect to someone who had been part of his own musical journey.
And Black clearly enjoyed inhabiting that history.
The other major tribute came near the end of the show with Waylon Jennings’ “Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way,” which Black famously adapted as “Are You Sure Waylon Done It This Way.” His 1999 D’Lectrified version actually featured an extended instrumental section and Jennings himself as a guest vocalist.
That history made Friday’s performance particularly meaningful. Black wasn’t simply borrowing Waylon’s song. He was revisiting a musical relationship and acknowledging the artist’s influence.
And the presentation drove that home, with the video appearance of Waylon on the screen while the band worked its way through the song. Piano, steel guitar, harmonica and guitar all had room to breathe. It was a fitting way to honor an artist whose music was always about individuality and letting the musicians play.
There was even a nod to Kris Kristofferson during the sequence, keeping the feeling of country music’s older generation very much alive on the stage.
But for all the history, this was never a museum piece.
Black was having fun.
His stories between songs were sometimes almost as entertaining as the songs themselves.
Before the unreleased “Now the Devil Doesn’t Live Here Anymore,” he joked with the Orlando audience — essentially telling everyone to settle down because “this is Orlando” — before explaining that he normally doesn’t perform songs he hasn’t recorded. Then came the revelation that the new song was written by a man known simply as: “Ernest.”
The humor paid off when the chorus arrived and the audience collectively realized where the lyrics were going. Suddenly people weren’t just listening to a new song; they were laughing at it together.
That willingness to experiment also made the show feel surprisingly current for an artist whose biggest hits date back more than three decades.
When Black talked about “Nothing’s News,” he took the audience back to 1989, when he was just 22 and trying to establish himself as a songwriter and singer. He talked about his father believing in him as a songwriter but being less convinced about him as a singer, and the wonderfully self-deprecating idea that maybe you haven’t lived enough yet to write great country songs.
Then he basically used the song as his rebuttal.
“Nobody’s Home” continued that early-career storytelling, with Black recalling the $150 demo recorded in Hayden’s garage and the Einstein-inspired idea behind the song: if people supposedly use only a fraction of their brain’s potential, what happens with all that unused space? His answer became the wonderfully country observation that the lights are on but nobody’s home.
By the time the show reached “A Good Run of Bad Luck,” the audience was fully invested. Black explained that the song was written at the last minute with Hayden Nicholas in 1989 and barely made the album. Judging by the reaction — people clapping, singing and eventually standing in their seats — nobody in Orlando seemed particularly concerned that it had once been considered an afterthought.
That song is a good example of another thing the night demonstrated: Black’s catalog has aged remarkably well because the songs don’t depend solely on nostalgia.
They still work.
The setlist itself is almost a condensed history of Black’s career. Songs from Killin’ Time, No Time to Kill, One Emotion, Nothin’ but the Taillights and The Hard Way all appeared during the night, with songs from his early albums making up a substantial portion of the performance.
And there is a thematic thread running through much of that material.
Time.
Mistakes.
Regret.
Bad decisions.
Moving on.
Trying to make sense of relationships.
Trying to make sense of yourself.
Even the titles tell part of the story: “A Better Man,” “Untanglin’ My Mind,” “State of Mind,” “No Time to Kill,” “Nothing’s News,” “Nobody’s Home,” “Walkin’ Away,” “Killin’ Time,” “A Good Run of Bad Luck,” “Tuckered Out” and “Nothin’ but the Taillights.”
These are songs about people trying to figure things out while life keeps moving.
And maybe that’s why they still sound so natural coming from Black more than 30 years later.
By the time “Waylon” arrived — the rapid-fire country history lesson that name-checks dozens of country artists — the show had essentially become a celebration of the genre itself. It wasn’t just about Clint Black anymore. It was about the musical world that influenced him and the artists who came before and alongside him.
Then came “Nothin’ but the Taillights,” followed by the encore, “We Tell Ourselves.”
And fittingly, “We Tell Ourselves” brought another opportunity for the musicians to stretch out. That’s been a recurring feature of Black’s live performances, where the entire band gets opportunities to step forward rather than simply supporting the singer from the shadows.
That’s probably what I’ll remember most about this particular Clint Black show.
Not simply that he sounded like Clint Black.
He did.
Not simply that he played the hits.
He did that, too.
It’s that he allowed the songs to become bigger than their original recordings.
The harmonica wasn’t just there because the song needed harmonica. The piano wasn’t just filling space between verses. The steel guitar wasn’t simply providing that familiar country texture. The guitar solos weren’t obligatory breaks inserted into the set.
They were the songs.
Black understands that country music is as much about the musicians playing around the story as it is about the singer telling it. And after decades of performing these songs, he seems comfortable enough with his band — and confident enough in his own musicianship — to let that become the centerpiece.
At the Dr. Phillips Center on Friday night, Clint Black wasn’t simply looking backward.
He was looking back, pulling pieces of that history into the present, and then giving his band enough room to remind everyone why those songs sounded so good in the first place.
And for a career that began with Killin’ Time back in 1989, there was something pretty satisfying about hearing those songs still have plenty of time left in them.
--Bailey Guinigundo
RSS Feed