Great show! I've been a fan of Steve Earle for many years. Enjoyed seeing both of these strong-willed artists together in concert.
Here's the review published by the Philadelphia Inquirer:

Steve Earle and Joan Baez sing to the choir - satisfyingly
By Sam Adams

"I've written a lot of songs, which I guess happens if you don't die," Steve Earle drawled at the Academy of Music on Friday night.

Joan Baez, who followed Earle's taut and well-constructed set with an expansive overview of her own career, will turn 70 in January, marking more than a half-century since her first appearance at the Newport Folk Festival. Her 90-minute set contained only a handful of her own compositions, drawing on traditional broadside ballads and their descendants: Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, and the Band.

In tone or tempo, Baez's versions weren't strikingly different from the originals. Yet they were transformed by the power of her voice, which, although a tad breathier and more raspy than it once was, retains its almost eerie command. Baez's mournful trill was made for singing from the rooftops and crying out against injustices like the anti-immigrant sentiments that Woody Guthrie attacks in "Deportees." The crowd applauded just as you would expect from a crowd at a Joan Baez show, chuckling appreciatively at her weak gag about the Indians asking to see the pilgrims' papers.

There was a faint air of self-congratulation at the Academy, if not directed at Baez, then at least enjoyed by her listeners, who never missed an opportunity to demonstrate their agreement with the mildest political sentiment.

But there was no confrontation in Baez's songs, only comfort for like-minded souls. If anyone had come with opinions differing from hers - and that is doubtful - they would have left feeling the same way.

When she took on the part of a homesick, frightened soldier in Waits' "The Day After Tomorrow," or an aging factory worker in John Prine's "Hello in There," she didn't sing from within; her voice was beautiful but distant, more sympathetic than empathetic. But then watching from a distance was just what her audience wanted.

Earle's introduction to "The Devil's Right Hand" was a miniature epic, sketching his journey as a native Texan who owned numerous firearms (and "discharged them frequently") until he discovered his 14-year-old son had stolen one of them.

When Earle wrapped up by saying he hasn't kept a gun in his house since then, members of the audience erupted in applause, as if lauding Earle for finally seeing things their way.