Well, back up a little--I managed to wander into Virgin after his notorious in-store a few years ago, when he left the stage to put some heckling "fan" (?) in a headlock. He wasn't playing, just signing autographs. Since then, my appreciation of his work with the Replacements and as a solo artist has grown, though I'll never reach the level of his most rabid fans.
Paul Westerberg, Great American Music Hall, February 21, 2005: Even when this show was announced, I told myself to buy a ticket, but I wasn't emotionally engaged. Man, was I wrong. I could never feel the same level of excitement as his most fervent supporters, but he put on a show that managed to surprise and thrill me at many points. I have no idea exactly which songs he played, but I recognized a bunch of Replacements tunes, a few from Stereo/Mono, and a handful of covers. It's should be no surprise that the old songs got the biggest reactions, but Paul looked comfortable enough playing them. He and his band were endearingly shambolic. They veered toward chaos a few times, but they managed to hold it together overall.
From all accounts, Paul was relatively well behaved compared to past shows. But unlike Cat Power, that didn't mean he had been neutered in any way. He came onstage looking overdressed in tuxedo pants, shiny wingtips, a green peacoat, a striped shirt, a striped scarf, a tie, and a hat. He finally lost the coat about five songs in, and you could see by then that his shirt was unbuttoned. He played like that for a few songs before straightening up while his band played stripper-worthy accompaniment.Some highlights:
- At the beginning, Paul said that he saw Tommy two weeks earlier but didn't recognize him.
- Paul repeatedly picked on his guitarist. It sounded like it was a regular thing between them, though his jibes reminded me that his backup band is called His Only Friends. For "Skyway," Paul accompanied himself on acoustic guitar, but his guitarist decided that the song needed maracas. As the guitarist and the drummer quietly started in, Paul stopped the song and asked if Harry Belafonte was in the house. He also remarked that he could tell a white man was playing them. The maracas became a running joke through the rest of the evening.
- During (I think) "Alex Chilton," Paul's guitar didn't work, and his poor tour manager/tech guy brought him two different *ahem* replacements, neither of which worked either. The first one, Paul literally threw back at him. The second one, he smashed on the amp.
- By the end of the main set, he was bleeding from a cut somewhere around the ear. They managed to clean him up during the short break.
- During the encore, he asked his bassist to try to kick in his guitar, but fortunately, the wood held.
- There was a thankfully abbreviated attempt at "Stairway to Heaven."
- After one ragged song, Paul commented that they sounded like a "drunken Holiday Inn band."
And of course, scattered throughout the evening, there was tons of profanity, forgotten words, and a touch of violence--good times all around!
I can't think of another time when a new band on an indie label managed to sell out three nights at the Great American Music Hall in no time flat. The ticket saga on craigslist was a soap opera in itself. That hype, combined with my friend's warning that Win's voice was really awful at their show here in December, made me a little wary, but I knew it was something I had to see for myself. I couldn't justify seeing all three shows, but maybe that was right decision, as Win was reportedly strying to shake off a bug on that first night. However, I did miss Will ramming the wall and taking out a nice chunk of the plaster with him. His scuff marks were all over the wall as well--alongside the big cut-outs of the Victorian ladies and other artwork.
If there's anything I'll take away from this show, it's the way the band seems to enjoy every moment. I love that they all sing along to the songs, adding to the choir effect when needed but belting it out even if there's no microphone near them. Right now, I can't stop thinking of the little details that jumped out at me that weren't so obvious from listening to the record, such as that wonderful guitar lick from "Une Annee" and the overall percussive domination to their sound.
What a difference three months makes. This Nels Cline Singers appearance saw a bigger, livelier crowd, but everyone listened raptly to the actual performance. The group itself concentrated on songs from The Giant Pin but threw in a few older and newer tracks as well. I think it was during "Fly Fly" that Devin Hoff turned in an intense bass solo, only to be answered by Nels's equally emphatic guitar-and-whisk work. One very cool and very artful new song, "Mr. Real," was dedicated to a 71-year-old jazz guitarist living in Florida whose name escapes me, but the tune is not to be missed (whenever it's properly recorded, anyway).
Colin came out all by himself, except for a couple of guitars. I can't tell you the set list, but he did a numbers of tunes from the new album, all the while goodnaturedly cursing those of us who've downloaded the album as pirates. I find this incredibly ironic, considering half of the band's songs are about pirates. Go figure. Of course, he did a bunch of songs from the catalog, including the divine "Grace Cathedral Hill," perhaps my fave of their songs--the San Francisco angle doesn't hurt, either. He also did a song that didn't make it to the new album, and I think they chose wisely, as it was the narrative of the nine-fingered bandit queen. I dig their narratives, but that's a bit precious for me. 
It took a little while to load in and set up Jeff's gear. He may have done a soundcheck too, but I was upstairs, gorging on the yummy stuff that everyone had brought. I can't remember the exact time the show started, but it was definitely an auspicious beginning with intros and intros for the intros. Thax Douglas and Tim Tutten were present, so we had the full Chi-Town rock treatment. Finally, Jeff took the "stage" and kicked off with "Laminated Cat."