Saturday, May 14, 2005

owner of this corner and not much more

It's been a relatively quiet time for me after the Coachella-related string of shows, but I have one middling report to file and another that I'm practically dying to get to. Hopefully, I can do the former justice and perhaps show some restraint with the latter.

Trashcan Sinatras, Slim's, May 11, 2005: Last year, the Trashcan Sinatras toured the west coast for the first time in ages and finally gave me the chance to see them in concert, 10 years after Cuong and I glued our ears to my little Aiwa boombox and the Cake CD, trying to slice through the Scots brogue to transcribe the lyrics to "Only Tongue Can Tell." I got to see them last October in what turned out to be one of the biggest inadvertent concert/music buddies reunions I've ever attended. There they were: a number of people I knew through other music subcultures, and it turned out we all dug TCS as well. And I felt that we were representative of the crowd: older but still enthusiastic about music and more than willing to support the bands we love. It was a fun show, and I was really excited to hear the old tunes, as well as the new ones that were still unfamiliar to me.

Cuong saw them in December at their acoustic gig and loved it, and here it was, May 2005, and we were seeing them again. Again, I unexpectedly ran into old friends, and everything looked to be going along just as expected. But between the opener and the headliners, we noticed an argument breaking out near the front of the stage, in the middle of the floor. Two people were cussing at each other, and we didn't know why, though we learned it had something to do with some people trying to cut in at the front. Hmmmmm. Fortunately, we were just out of their periphery and weren't affected much.

We kept an eye on the spot, and it wasn't long before we noticed that more irregularities were transpiring. One of the latecomers was obviously drunk and swaying and flailing his arms to the tunes. I was worried because he had a pint glass in his hands, and I didn't want it to slip or spill too much. Hell, I don't mind an enthusiastic audience, but it was a little distracting. Later, we also heard the crash of glass in his area, and they were the culprits. (No one was hurt.) This pretty much kept up for the rest of the show, along with really graphic making out. By the encore, a pit had opened up around the couple, as no one wanted to be in touching distance. A security person came by to warn him, but I guess there weren't grounds to eject him or anything of the sort. In the meantime, Krista and I had been scooting farther left, while Cuong had taken off entirely. After the show, we found out he had left because the girl behind him had been grabbing his ass. Huh--the big guy had been intimidated by a little girl??? Yes, it was an odd night.

As for the music itself, I like TCS, and I'm happy to see them taking in decent crowds. Again, they didn't do "Only Tongue Can Tell," but "Obscurity Knocks" feels almost as good. I hope they can keep it up, and I'll most likely be back to see them.

Jon Brion, Largo, May 13, 2005: I don't even know why I bother trying to obscure my JB fixation. I guess it's called denial. But as it happened, my cousin Annie was graduating that day, and I figured we could squeeze in a Largo show after the myriad planned activities. And it was a very good day too. I got a little choked up during the big ceremony, Neil Armstrong was a cool speaker, I was so proud of Annie and of my aunt and uncle, and there were a lot of good vibes in the air. I couldn't believe that Annie, with all her claims of me being "hardcore," was still on her feet after 12 hours of activities, but she was willing to humor me and book it to Largo after our delicious celebratory dinner in Chinatown with the family. And I guess Luong had been properly warned because she wasn't flagging too much either.

I started taking Annie to Largo ever since her first year at USC, and she's been really great at humoring my visits. I know she says she likes Jon's music, but considering how many of my friends don't seem to have the stomach for Largo nights anymore, it's incredibly refreshing that she and her friends are willing to give it a try and to--gasp!--sometimes really dig it. It seemed appropriate that we'd be back on her last day as a student.

We had Derek Hughes for a very brief opening set that night. He was a magician and had a double bill scheduled with the Watkins family that coming Monday. He was a funny guy, though his magic was a little suspect. Long story short, he performed a trick with a deck of cards, and for the pay-off, he pulled the card in question out between his butt cheeks. I'd say that you have to see it for yourself, but depending on your predilections, maybe you want to take my word for it. Jon later made a comment about how Derek's trick was a metaphor for how artists often feel like they're pulling it out of their ass, but you know, Derek's trick, whatever it was, seemed too graphic to qualify as a metaphor of any sort, if you ask me.

Jon came out at 10:30, looking a bit shaggy and laid-back--not his often jaunty self. He immediately explained that he was in a slight food coma and needed to play some "food coma music" until the "caffeine overload" kicked in; we would know it when it happened. So he started out with a lovely piano interlude, and when that was out of his system, he greeted the crowd again and thanked us for coming that evening. Unsurprisingly, his first "real" song of the night was "Same Thing," this time on the piano and the toy piano, sans percussion. I love that song, and it's obvious that he does too, as I can't even tell you how many times I've seen him open with it.

Sometimes certain themes evolve from the night, and this time, he was heavily favoring his black-and-white Gretsch. For the next song, he built up "I Was Happy with You" and ended it with a generous helping of feedback. Next was "It Looks Like You" from the Evan Dando album, then "That's Just What You Are" from Aimee Mann's Whatever. The latter also featured tons of crunchy, heavy guitar and a feedback-drenced outro. From there, he switched to the piano for "Trouble" and "Same Mistakes." At this point, I was wondering if the emphasis on his own material and songs that he had cowritten indicated that he was polishing off his own oeuvre in preparation for his alleged tour or residency or whatever he wants to call it. A girl can dream and speculate and add 2 and 2 to get 5...

He went back into a song build for a tune with these lines: "I'm going to be fine/No thanks to you/I'm further along/No thanks to you." Google has been absolutely no help in sniffing out these lyrics, so I'm gonna guess it's a new song. The lyrics seem to be in line with his post-breakup tunes. If anyone has info to the contrary, I'd love to hear it.

At this point, Jon claimed to want to hear "pseudo-Croatian backwoods guitar film music" and went to the drums for a song build. The beat certainly seemed to support his words. He returned to the Gretsch to lay down the bass, then the lead guitar. I was lost at this point, but Annie figured out what he was doing: "Tusk" by Fleetwood Mac. This is totally funny for a number of reasons. First off, we had heard "Tusk" at the USC commencement ceremony this morning, and it was a favorite at the school's football games. Also, at a show I had dragged Annie to a couple of years earlier, Jon had attempted the entirety of Tusk for his second set, and this had bored Annie immensely (OK, she was tired too). But hey, a couple of years later, and it was all coming back round. It was so apt. And it wasn't even the only weird coincidence of the night.

Next, he polished off the Everly Brothers' "Walk Right Back," his own "You're the Love of My Life So Far," Billie Holiday's "She Must Have That Man," and from Meaningless, "Dead to the World," which started off with Vangelis-style chords and ended on the toy piano. He concluded the first set with "Walking Through Walls" with a touch of "For Your Love" thrown in but brought back to the original song. It was about midnight at that point, and he promised to be back for another set.

Set 2 started around 12:30, and Jon immediately asked for requests. I wanted to hear Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl" and yelled it out at the first opportunity, though to no avail. However, I had a huge grin on my face when he started off with "Me and the Bean," though he apologized for stringing together "2.5 verses from four different points in the song." Again, this brought me back to the aforementioned Tusk night, as I had dragged Annie to Largo after we caught the Spoon show at the El Rey, two years ago. That night, Jon had said something about how it was too bad that everyone there was missing Spoon and I shouted back that it was OK, the show had just ended. D'oh! And yes, I realize that Jon Brion fans probably have somewhat similar tastes in music, but I got a little frisson of recognition that he was into one of my favorite bands who, though they may be "breaking out" with the new album, aren't exactly household names right now.

"Running Up That Hill" came up second, then an instrumental version of "Four Seasons in One Day." He honored the Cheap Trick request with "Auf Wiedersehen" and took Zach Galafianakis's suggestion of "Stay" by the Blue Nile. (I only know it was Zach because he sat right behind us.) The requests rolled in, and Jon commented that he was going to have to call off the experiment when he heard "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and "My Way" among the shouts. But he did both. OK, he did only one line of the former, but he did the Chairman with the vocoder.

Jon said he had a "devilish" idea, and after Sammy pulled off his own brand of magic, Jon launched into a Dylanesque treatment of what eventually became "We Are the Champions," with "My Way" tacked on to the end. Not one to ignore the current cultural landmarks, he tried on the Star Wars cantina theme, then went into a jazzy tour de force. Annie claimed to have played it before, but she didn't know what it was. I overheard someone at the table next to us attributing the song to Duke Ellington, and that makes sense to me. For the last song, Jon went back to the Gretsch, on which he broke a string but continued to play for a while. As he had earlier that evening, he coaxed tons of distortion, this time by scraping the instrument against the ceiling beam above the Largo stage. He was so into it that his pants were literally falling down, revealing a good two inches of his red and white-striped boxer shorts. Then again, anyone who's seen him at Largo has most likely witnessed his trancelike states. What's with some (decent) exposure when you're getting those kind of tones? ;)

The setlist, as best as I can tell:

--piano interlude ("food coma music")
--Same Thing (toy piano)
--I Was Happy with You (song build)
--It Looks Like You (from the Evan Dando's Baby I'm Bored)
--That's Just What You Are (from Aimee Mann's Whatever)
--Trouble (piano)
--Same Mistakes (piano)
--new song? (song build; sample lyrics: "I'm going to be fine/No thanks to you/I'm further along/No thanks to you")
--Tusk (Fleetwood Mac)
--Walk Right Back (Everly Brothers)
--You're the Love of My Life So Far (acoustic guitar)
--She Must Have That Man (Billie Holiday; piano)
--Dead to the World (Vangelis chords + toy piano ending)
--Walking Through Walls/For Your Love/Walking Through Walls (song build; lots of vocoder and synthesized percussion)

--Me and the Bean (Spoon!)
--Running Up that Hill (Kate Bush)
--Four Seasons in One Day (Crowded House; piano instrumental)
--Auf Wiedersehen (Cheap Trick)
--Stay (Blue Nile)
--Total Eclipse of the Heart/My Way
--We Are the Champions/My Way (done in the style of Dylan)
--Star Wars cantina theme
--jazzy tour de force (someone near us said it was Duke Ellington)
--Porpoise Song? (Monkees)

See also:
» top 5 Largo memories
» get a load of the lengths I go to

Friday, May 06, 2005

from the books you don't read anyway

Today is a sad, sad day for me, as my iPod decided to go crazy. Despite my every attempt, it refuses to resuscitate, so I'll try a couple of measures tomorrow, then it'll be off to the *gasp* repair shop. I'll probably just cry on my auntie's shoulder and whine to her until she takes the thing back to her client/Apple guy. Boo hoo. Fortunately, I've come off a simultaneously exhilirating and exhausting week of cool shows, and I will gladly reveal the details below.

Jeff Tweedy and Nels ClineWilco, Price Center Ballroom, April 29, 2005: Though San Diego is the second-biggest city in California and 200 miles away from the heart of Los Angeles, it seems to enjoy an entirely different lifestyle from its much gaudier northern neighbor. So when Wilco announced a show at (basically) a conference room on the UCSD campus, I couldn't resist, especially as it also meant sharing a couple of days with some of my favorite rock tourists. We got in Thursday and enjoyed a wonderful meal at Jake's by the Sea in Del Mar (on my cousin Khang's suggestion), followed by a nightcap at the historic Hotel del Coronado. I was loving every second of Heidi's reports of the recent Jon Brion whirlwind in New York, and it just made me more excited that I have a reservation to his show on Friday the 13th (cue Psycho theme). And Paul, well, when aren't I glad to see him? Of course, the last time we were hanging out, it was back on the Continent, halfway around the world, but variety is the spice of life. Heh heh.

The UCSD campus is gorgeous and a great place to spend the day. Yes, San Diego indeed has beautiful weather: warmer than my corner of the world but nowhere as oppressive as Los Angeles. We soaked in the sun and the breeze and the eucalyptus scent in the air. Sigh. One of the student organizations was setting up a luau for the evening, something called the Ring of Fire. As the day progressed, we noticed that the ring was a misnomer--it turned out to be more of a copper bowl of fire, though I don't think it mattered to the participants. We were kinda sad to miss the interactive drum circle, but we had other obligations.

grinning at a certain little girlThe Price Center is quite small. We estimated perhaps 1,000 capacity. However, it's as flat as a pancake, and the stage was quite low, so I felt bad for anyone shorter than 5'5" and farther than five rows back. Of course, this was not our problem. The openers, Polar Goldie Cats, were totally fun and, unsurprisingly, had a feline theme going on. I recognized their bass guitarist as Bob Bruno, former tech to Jon Brion. That explained why I haven't seen him at Largo lately!

The single highlight of Wilco's set was probably "Bob Dylan's Beard," on which Nels used a new guitar. It was quite small, especially on his lanky frame, and shaped almost like a harp. Regardless, he sounded great, and Jeff teased him about his new toy. I'm always excited to hear "Misunderstood," and I think we were pretty convincing on "Political Science," but I really, really dig "Something in the Air." I think it has to do with the way all three singers belt out the vocals and how good it feels to sing right along with them. It's such a simple song, too, but I clearly recall feeling soooooo good when they played that song.

After the show, we got a chance to say hi, and I noticed Rick Moody hanging out with the band, though I didn't get to talk to him. Demonology is a great book, if you haven't read it. And even better, it's a short story collection, so you don't have to slog through too many chapters to get to the pay-off (though the last story involves a patented Rick Moody recurring theme). After that, it was off with my cousin to Roberto's for the promised carne asada fries. Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Brianne had brought the vaunted crancheddar, and we had been snacking on Heidi's Dancing Deer flavors. That's living, folks. ;) To top it all off, we spent the wee hours of the morning celebrating Trish's birthday. The McCormicks are such awesome people; I love counting them as my friends, neighbors, and fellow music nerds.

Yan, from British Sea PowerBritish Sea Power, the Independent, April 30, 2005: For a self-proclaimed music nerd, I have a weird history with rock festivals in the United States. I've been to a few of them (the original Gathering of the Tribes, the precursor to Lollapalooza; All Tomorrow's Parties; WOMAD), but I've completely skipped all the big ones over the years, the ones that will inevitably show up in history books down the line. I still haven't gone to Coachella, though it's in my own state, partly because all of the bands I really want to see tend to stop in San Francisco either before or after the big show. This was again the case, and British Sea Power was the first of the Coachella-related bands on my gig list.

I seriously love this band. My fate was sealed at that first show I saw, when I didn't know a whole lot about them except that they were British and playing Bottom of the Hill. But when I noticed the taxidermy onstage and saw the guitarist (who I didn't know was a member of the band at the time) positioning fresh foliage on the amps, I was definitely intrigued. When they hit the boards in cricket uniforms and looking like British schoolboys from the early 1900s, I was ready to paste their photos to the inside of my locker. And when they went nuts during the show, turning cartwheels, giving each other piggyback rides, and so on--well, I wanted to change my last name to Sea Power at that point. It also didn't hurt that their songs paid powerful homage to the '80s bands I loved, with a huge debt to Echo and the Bunnymen.

Hamilton, from British Sea PowerI like the new album, "Open Season," even if it doesn't have the same punk energy as the first album. To my ears, the guitars sound so cool on this one--fluid yet cutting and just so damn melodic. Tom hears notes of Kitchens of Distinction in the album, and though I can't fully agree with him, I can see where he's coming from. But it would take a much worse record to deter me from catching them in concert again.

Before BSP took the stage, we first saw sets by Kelly Stoltz and the Heavenly States, both local bands. I've seen Kelly before, though in his Echo and the Bunnymen-aping incarnation with Spiral Stairs. He did a great short set, and I decided I need to buy his CDs soon. San Francisco has too many "states" bands, and I couldn't remember if I had seen the Heavenly variety. They weren't my thing--a little emo in parts, a little Green Day in others--but they had great energy.

On to the headliners: I noticed what looked like a wooden pheasant on the side of the stage before the show, but it never made its way front and center. However, the foliage was present, and we could smell the pine scent emanating from the freshly shorn branches. The stage was set.

The show was a good mix of the early punkier material and the new, mellower songs. They did my two favorite songs from the new one, "North Hanging Rock" and "Larsen B" (about an ice shelf!), as well as the earlier hits. They managed to play it pretty straight for most of the show until the very last medley, a monster of a performance. Yan had been wearing a red scarf tied around his knee, but he removed it early in the show. Meanwhile, Hamilton kept his on. I'm not sure if technical problems were involved, but Noble, the guitarist, put away his guitar and at first crowdsurfed. When he returned to the stage, he picked up Yan's discarded scarf and proceeded to blindfold Yan. He did the same to all the other band members except the drummer. For himself, he tied the arms of his jacket around his eyes. It was a glorious mess by the end.

I find that we're ridiculously lucky to have hosted this little UK band three times already. I've always urged people to take advantage of these circumstances while they can, and BSP has once again proved to me that I can't possibly miss them when they come to town.

Gang of Four, the Fillmore, May 3, 2005: I've seen more reunion shows than I thought I'd ever bother with, but sometimes, you can't say no. I own one album (yes, on vinyl) from Gang of Four, but in light of the recent rash of imitator bands, I welcomed the chance to see them for myself.

I can't comment that much on the music, as I'm not that familiar with their work, other than the hits, but no, they didn't play "I Love a Man in a Uniform," though it had apparently turned up the first night. Still, they played with tons of energy, and we had a great time playing "what band ripped off this song" game. The first track was clearly cribbed by Bloc Party, and one other song was half of the Franz Ferdinand album. We were curious to see the tech setting up and miking a microwave before the band took the stage; it later turned out to be a percussive element, and a very convincing one at that. Tom said you could tell which songs were from the horrible second album, and as he mentioned that, I realized it wasn't my imagination that some of the songs sounded alarmingly arena rock, far from the art punk that I associate with the band. But perhaps the most enjoyable aspect of the evening was watching how many people were seriously into the music and who were so moved by the show. I'm an unapologetic fangirl, so it's nice to see that same enthusiasm (I hope other people see it as enthusiasm) shared by others. This time, I was happy to stand at the side.

Coldplay, the Fillmore, May 4, 2005: I don't want to sound apologetic about my fondness for Coldplay. I like them. I don't love them, but I think they're far from the scourge of the current music scene. Granted, I don't own the second album, but then again, they don't need me to buy another copy. Of course I wanted to get tix to the Fillmore show when they first went on sale, and though I was denied, I still wanted to go to this truly intimate show, especially since I have no plans to see them when they come back to play the arenas and amphitheaters. Fortunately, I got in, thanks to leaving work early, waiting about 3 hours in the drizzle, and being #25 for 33 available tickets. Yippee!

There was no opening act, and the Fillmore stage looked strangely sparse. We were right at the front barrier, in front of Johnny. I love hearing his guitar, so I was glad we got that spot. Chris's piano was right in the middle, and it had been personalized with Make Trade Fair symbols. Also at the front and center was a Tesla coil, which Chris used for only one song before the tech stole it away (we speculated that maybe the band had visited the Exploratorium). I couldn't see Will at all, as the drum kit was completely obscured by the piano, and on the other side, Guy worked the bass and a console of some sort.

Coldplay took the stage at 9 p.m. and played for about 90 minutes. I think there were about six or seven new songs, with a fair sprinkling of the older material. I loved their attempt at "Don't Panic," still my favorite of their songs and the one that kicked it all off for me, even if they couldn't remember how it went. I'm not besotted with Chris Martin, but I found it impossible to take my eyes off of him. He seems so damn sincere and passionate that it's hard for me to not think (hope?) he must be an OK guy. Regardless, he has an incredible amount of energy (at one point, he jumped over the piano), and though Coldplay is so huge these days, he didn't seem that different from the other times I've seen the band, when they weren't yet selling millions of records. They still look very boyish, and no one pulled any messiah moves *cough*bono*cough*, and there was no grandstanding either. What can I say? I love that humble shit.

I happened to have read the New York Times review of Coachella, which noted that Coldplay's new songs aren't as straightforward as their earlier tunes. Based on what I heard Wednesday night, I'd have to agree. The new single ("Speed of Sound," I think) is easily the most accessible of the new songs we heard, and old tunes such as "The Scientist," "Clocks," and (of course) "Yellow" elicited the biggest responses of the night. I also recall many reviews that mentioned a certain swagger in the second album. I'm not sure I agree with that, but I can say that reviewers probably won't say the same thing about the new album. At the least, the crowd gave the band their full attention on the unfamiliar songs. For one tune, the guys convened as if gathered around a campfire, with Johnny on slide guitar, Chris on acoustic, Will on piano, and Guy on harmonica for a little, understated song. There were also a couple of patent ballads, featuring Chris on piano.

On a couple of non-music notes, I gotta say that the San Francisco glitterati were out in force that night. I noticed that they cordoned off a much larger part of the balcony than usual, to accomodate the overflow, I assume. Before the show, we saw Robin Williams wandering around, and after the show, Steve Young walked right past us. And on a much cooler note, the lighting was beautiful! If we had been allowed to take photos, I would've shot about three rolls because the angles and shadows were so beautiful.

I'm really glad I got to see this show, as it may be the last time I ever see Coldplay in concert. Then again, I thought that the last time as well. Hahahahaha. I'll always have a soft spot for this band.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

i can teach you, but i have to charge

I'm getting ready for a real update soon, after I catch the Gang of Four show tonight and, with any luck, the Coldplay gig tomorrow (not bloody likely), but my dear friend Heidi and her pal Brian managed to dig up my review of a monumental Jon Brion show from last year. So before another board/PC crashes and I don't get to see this again, I'll post this for posterity.

Jon Brion + friends, Largo, Feb. 20, 2004: I'll spare you the excruciating details of Jon Brion's set, except that he played my request for "Milkshake," the Kelis song. We weren't sure he was going to do it, but once that beat kicked in, we had no doubt. Of course, the vocoder-treated vocals and the freaky keyboard bits helped a lot too. Out of all the covers I've heard at Largo, "Milkshake" is certainly one of the least likely tunes I would've expected, but damn, it was fun!!!!!

Anyway, Neil Finn made a surprise appearance at Largo this past Friday. No one said why he's in town, but I suspect it may have something to do with the upcoming Finn Brothers album. All I know is that from our seat at the back of the room, I nearly had a heart attack during dinner when I saw him wandering about. Seriously, I could barely breathe when I spied him. To think that I've been conspiring for about four years now to catch one of his impromptu shows at Largo, and Neil just happens to show up the weekend that my friends convinced me to go.

Neil joined the openers, Goldenboy, for a few songs. For those unfamiliar with Goldenboy, it's basically Shon Sullivan, who played with Neil on his last couple of tours and also with the eels on their most recent tour. He had a few other musicians joining him, including Neil's drummer from the last tour. After about three or four songs, Shon introduced Neil, at which point gasps could be heard through the audience. Neil approached the stage with a small cupcake atop which sat a single lit candle for Shon's birthday. We sang "Happy Birthday" to him, then Neil joined in for a handful of songs, taking the piano, then the guitar, as well as backing vocals.

Jon followed with his usual set, complete with original songs, covers, and a couple of small freakouts. After a short break, Jon, Neil, Shon, and Scott came back out around 1 a.m. and commenced the second set. I couldn't believe that people actually left before Neil came on. I mean, this is the stuff of Largo legend. Sheesh.

They began with a standard that Neil said was his father's favorite song, "I Can't Get Started with You." From there, they went into a number of Neil Finn classics, and they rounded out the set with Benmont Tench on the piano, helping them on a bunch of covers.

Before they started "Hole in the River," Neil commented that Flanagan assured him that the entire band already knew the song, but it was obvious that they were just making it up as they went along, as they all stared at Neil for musical cues through the song. I thought I had pretty much died and gone to heaven when Neil sang "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow," but that may have been topped by "I'm So Tired" with Neil on lead vocals (and forgetting the lyrics), Jon on backing vocals, and Benmont hitting the toy piano now and then. Just before that was another classic moment, where the entire supergroup literally put their heads together to figure out what song to do next, and we overheard Jon recommending a song because "it only has one chord." That song turned out to be "Tomorrow Never Knows." They nearly ended with "You Really Got Me" done in three different styles: traditional, "acoustic folk," and Merle Travis. But they came back for a medley of a rockabilly song I didn't recognize, then "Jeepster," then "That's All Right Mama."

Then it was 2 a.m. and we finally went home. As soon as we reached the car, I called Largo's answering machine and made a reservation for Neil's show at Largo a week later. Here's the setlist as best as I can tell:

--Same Thing
--Someone Else's Problem Now
--I Was Happy with You
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Round Midnight
--I'm on a Roll with You
--(new song?)
--Walking through Walls
--I'll Take You Any Day
--You Made the Girl

--I Can't Get Started with You
--Driving Me Mad
--Hole in the River
--Not the Girl You Think You Are
--Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow
--Sunny Afternoon
--Tomorrow Never Knows
--I'm So Tired
--You Really Got Me
--unidentified song/Jeepster/That's All Right Mama

See also:
» top 5 Largo memories
» get a load of the lengths I go to