Emmanuel leaves crowd in awe at Las Vegas debut

Ten fingers. Six strings.

That's all Tommy Emmanuel needed to captivate the crowd at Club Madrid in Sunset Station on Friday night.

It was the Australian guitarist's first trip to Las Vegas. Still, he drew a full house, including a passel of PBS patrons lured by a pledge-drive special that was studded with guest stars but only hinted at the treat they were about to witness.

Before his 90-minute set began, fans snapped pictures of his beautiful Maton acoustic guitars, glistening but silent at center stage.

Then Emmanuel brought the wood and steel alive.

Emmanuel is a fingerpicker without peer. He can make his acoustic guitars cut like a razor or embrace like an angel's wings.

Again and again, he conjured up a full band - walking bass, churning drums, chomping chords and wicked fast melody riffs - all at once on a single guitar. He even joked at one point, "Take it, boys."

He reinvented the Merle Travis classic "Nine Pound Hammer" in a way that left the pickers in the audience wondering if they should go home and practice or just burn their guitars.

He deconstructed "Classical Gas" and "Secret Love" in ways that would make Mason Williams and Doris Day blush. He mashed together a half-dozen Beatles tunes in a crowd-pleasing medley, then blew the doors off Arthur Smith's "Guitar Boogie" and his own "Tall Fiddler," written to honor Byron Berline.

But this wasn't simply a flurry of notes at supersonic speed.

The high points came on the softer songs: the tapping and harplike harmonics of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and the aching beauty of "Angelina," a song about his daughter.

Emmanuel can weave a spell that makes you want to close your eyes and float into a dream. But that's impossible, since he's so entertaining to watch. He balanced his jaw-dropping chops with showmanship and warm stories.

The 57-year-old explained how he developed his complex fingerpicking style - as a child he mistakenly thought the rhythm guitarist was playing all those parts behind the melody. So he learned to play them all at once.

And he relayed his last conversation with Chet Atkins as they compared pictures of their daddies with their hats cocked at the same angle.

Then he sang Atkins' "I Still Can't Say Goodbye" and brought tears to many eyes in the club.

One man and a guitar. Sometimes that's more than enough.

Contact Mark Whittington at
mwhittington@reviewjournal.com or 702-387-2909.