Emmylou Harris, silk and steel at the Pabst Theater

No other voice sounds like that of Emmylou Harris. Tuesday night at the Pabst Theater, it sounded weathered with the singer’s 64 years, an effect underscored by her way of letting pitch slide here and there for effect. In fact, it was under control, as taut and focused as steel wire one moment and soft and pliant as silk the next. She often started phrases hard and finished them soft, in abrupt shifts that never failed to bring me up short. This particular quality of voice makes her singing distinct and rewards close attention.

Especially later in her career, Harris has written more and more of her own material. Tuesday’s generous set — nearly 30 songs in a single marathon with no break — included several numbers from her latest, mostly self-created album, Hard Bargain. I wish I’d been able to make out more of the lyrics; I could only pick up lines here and there. The Ship on His Arm, the one song in which the words rang clear, made me regret missing so many in the others. This poetic waltz tells of the love between her parents, who were twice separated by war but still had 50 years together. Who else would think to write a song about such a thing? But what topic more deserves a special sort of love song?

Harris surrounded herself with the Red Dirt Band, five superb musicians, and set herself amid tight, economical arrangements. Phil Madeira played keyboards, guitar, lap steel guitar and accordion; Rickie Simpkins added mandolin, fiddle and banjo. They and lead guitarist Will Kimbrough stretched out with great virtuosity and convincing purpose in a couple of up-tempo numbers. But mostly they filled and commented with exquisite taste and an ear for the big picture. They fit in, they don’t show off, and they framed Harris’ voice in the best possible light.

As expressive as that voice is, nothing about Harris’ singing is melodramatic or overwrought. The disarming bluntness of her delivery is perhaps her greatest charm. Emmylou says her piece directly and moves on. Nothing too fancy. It’s honest singing. I think if you heard her singing for her own pleasure out in a field by all by herself, she would sound just as she did before a thousand people Tuesday.

The big crowd loved the opening act, Appleton’s own Corey Chisel. His sweet and easy delivery made the melancholy in his own songs go down easy. His songs are harmonically and rhythmically simple, but emotionally complex and text-driven. The sense of most of them: Awareness of the tragic dimension of everyday life combined with a philosopher’s ability to take it in stride. Chris Donohue, Emmylou’s bassist, sat in with Chisel and regular bandmate Adriel Harris. Harris played a little electronic keyboard and now and then sang in close harmony. She picked her spots for that, for the sake of surprise. Sometimes she entered mid-phrase. Her airy, light voice was like a glimpse of blue sky above Chisel’s earthy baritone. They’re both very good, and they are very good for each other.