You know, if he had showed up at the end of his set banging on the big glass doors of the Winspear, they probably wouldn't have let Steve Earle in.  

 Their loss, man.  

 Rock 'n' roll can leave you a little rough around the edges, but it's music we're here to chat about, not image. Earle was looking fine anyway. How he sounded blew the roof off.  

 Eighteen hundred rockers, Americana fans and plain old country boys and girls showed up for Steve Earle's second show in the last few years. Since we last saw him under the sun at the Folk Fest, Earle's had El Corazon under his belt and managed to tighten it a few notches regardless.  

 Of course, he played Copperhead Road and Devil's Right Hand and, of course, those songs got the biggest rise from the sometimes sleepy crowd.  

 No worries, though, his next generation of fans kept hollering loud from the back when it got quiet.  

 If there was a song he didn't play from Corazon, I missed it. Telephone Row, Here I Am, If You Fall In Love, all the new classics waltzed through the night with trips into Exit 0, Guitar Town and The Hard Way. The latter's highlight being Billy Austin all the way.  

 Man, what an emotion-packed song. Death penalty protest never sounded so sweet.  

 Earle flirted with a Celtic medley on his baby guitar and laid down the hard notes with his black Chet Atkins special.  

 "Now I've been through some wives and have been through some drummers," he joked as he introduced the band. "Now I miss some of the drummers." Ah, divorce ain't so bad.  

 Brady, his smoke-sucking drummer, worked like a demon and raised the roof that much higher during NYC, Earle's latest effort with the Supersuckers.  

 "You can scream out all the requests you like, I'm still gonna play whatever the f--- I want to," he shot at the noisy back.  

 Train A Comin' was almost the highlight, but the night, like a good date, had a slow buildup with an explosive end.  

 Hats and caps bounced like hell once they realized it was OK.  

 The night ended with an encore of Guitar Town and I Ain't Ever Satisfied.  

 Buddy and Julie Miller, who opened the over three-hour night, saw their highs and lows; Buddy played new country, Julie played old.  

 They had an absolutely charming unprofessionality in them that relaxed the room full of folks checking out the balconies for the first time.  

 That was about all the hot country we got, though, as Earle's tributes to Hank Williams, Townes Van Zandt and good old rock 'n' roll took us home.  

 I don't care how long the show was. A lot of us could have stayed all night.