Ten o'clock Sunday morning and I was halfway through watching Emmylou Harris singing songs to illustrate her 'Ten Commandments of Country Music' concert.
There were tears in my eyes. Of course there were, all you unbelievers will say. But you'd be wrong. This was country music as it should be, 'three chords and the truth'. It had all the elements - the plaintive maundering fiddle, the playful mandolin, the plangent steel guitar, the discreet harmonies dragging against the aching vocals of Emmylou, herself as wonderfully mature and beautiful as the music.
When you wake up with a hangover and still tense from the night before's rugby match, it's the only kind of music to listen to. Especially when you have that horrible feeling that you might have fallen in love.
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