Opening the show was "Standing" with a swelling organ it set the tone for the remainder of the concert. Despite being written nearly a decade back, someone seeing her for the first time wouldn't have been able to differentiate it from the themes ofDowntown Church. Her backing band for this tour (also supporting Robert Plant later this summer) is an integral piece of the puzzle shape-shifting to the material when needed. On "Death's Got a Warrant" the band evokes a death march eeriness while "If I Had My Way" the band vanishes into the background giving a lesson in subtlety while they stir up religious conviction on "Move Up" where you stop and wonder why they don't assemble bands like this anymore. They're never ostentatious or overgenerous but more critical to the inclusive sound than anyone could even imagine. The band's self-discipline permits Griffin's vocals and lyrics to be the focal point. Inside her tiny frame is a voice vociferous enough which will uncoil and thwack you which she did momentously on "Wade in the Water". "Heavenly Day" featured Griffin solo on acoustic and she introduced it as "my only legitimate love songs" before dropping the bombshell that she wrote it for her dog. Writing love songs is easy; it's something else entirely to create something that transports the human spirit, which is what Griffin does. She even pulled out a new song, "Get Ready Marie", inspired by a wedding picture of her grandparents which shows a side of humor. "No Bad News" was introduced as "a song I wrote when I was in a bad mood", was scorching as Griffin assaulted her acoustic guitar with such fervor in punk-rock assertiveness that she broke a string inducing the loudest ovation of the evening. "Never Grown Old" found Griffin and Miller alone on stage (as it is on Downtown Church) serenading one another on a traditional number from the 1920's. Anyone creating music at this moment in time could learn from this one track. If you have a remarkable song and abounding emotion and enthusiasm, nothing else is needed. Studio wizardry proves to be superfluous.

The breathy performance of "Coming Home To Me" is full of contemplative lyrics that tug at your heart with characters that are far too authentic for most to acknowledge. Like Dylan before her, if you listen carefully, you sit back and gasp at how gorgeously constructed these songs are; no one should be this gifted with words. Her vocals pull and pluck at every heart string within and if you open yourself to her art, you will forever be changed. She has an uncanny ability to birth hymns of greatness about the most mundane and simplistic simple matters of the heart and she spins them into cinematic infernos as she did on "Little Fire". Her lyrics are comforting, revealing and revolutionary in their frankness and direction. The crowd was mostly quiet and reserved, not out of boredom but from veneration and the need to savor every word sung. If you screamed too loud, you may miss out on a central plot point or a lyric that may concurrently sting and soothe your soul. One of the reasons people associate with artists so closely is they often articulate their emotions for us. While we secrete feelings of loss and regret and nary speak a word, Griffin is out there painting pictures from internal wars fought wherever hearts roam.

"The Strange Man" has a hallelujah-recessional characteristic to it. "Waiting For My Child" featured a vocal from Griffin so in tune with the lyrics that you almost sense she holds the key to a box that holds the secrets of life. "House of Gold", which opens Downtown Church, was performed towards the conclusion of the set and not without reason. Griffin's voiced ascended as her backing band stirred up ghosts from the past. Those who came before fought and strove to make sense of their lot in life and like an early morning mist, the band raised these spirits from the dead so we can take meaning from their stories. Followed straight away by "We Shall All be Reunited", it tied up the themes in a enlivening and inspirational modern psalm where one day, possibly here on Earth and possibly in another realm, there will be a reconciling where the hurdles, arguments and despondency will vanish and all that will be left is love, family and forgiveness in our final act of the play we call life. It's up to us if we wish to wait or to walk down the road towards this redemption straight away. In many cases, we have the capacity and this is what the music reminds us of and urges us to do. In the encore, Griffin's full-bodied voice took flight on what is quickly becoming her signature song, "Up To the Mountain (MLK Song)". Her music is the aural foil to a film like The Shawshank Redemption where you believe in the power of optimism. It proves to be are more than mere distraction but place us on a life raft as we're navigating our way through a storm trying to find the lighthouse that will guide us back home.

These chronicles that surge from her are accounts of brutal forthrightness that cut to the core of your moral fiber. These songs hurt just as much as a first-hand encounter, but this isn't a negative. When we undergo ache, it jogs our memory of who we are, where we have been and what we have to do to make certain that agony goes away. Her songs remind us of what it is life to be alive. In a world where burying your past and pain is celebrated, Patty Griffin writes with a guitar in one hand and a shovel in another excavating up our darkest secrets, forcing us to resolve them because she knows we'll never be free until we meet head-on our demons.

Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter