every kind of memory

Rocktober turned out respectably after all, with a quick (fact-finding) mission to Los Angeles to see Jon Brion at Largo at the Coronet -- my first show of his for the year, believe it or not.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, October 26, 2018

I had reasons for this trip that I won't bother sharing now, but long story short, I discovered what I needed. However, this was unlike my usual forays to Largo, in that I arrived straight from the airport a few minutes shy of 9:30, and without a request for a saved seat, I instead headed to the back row. The room was about 70 percent filled, and I might've been able to find a closer chair, but it didn't matter. The only downside was that I was scribbling mostly in the dark, so you'll have to forgive any lapses in my notes. It's a miracle that they're legible at all!

The first thing I noticed was Jon's full setup: drums, video screens, several electric guitars, the Leslie cabinet, and enough wires to overload the eastern seaboard. Another welcome sight: Flanny's lightly bearded face. He referenced the World Series game that was in the 11th inning when Jon took the stage, but trust me -- the sports update mattered little to either of them.

Jon quickly promised us that we were in store for "live soundchecking," and he delivered, at first sticking to piano. He said he was going to play in the style of the 19th century because it feels like we're in the 19th century, and he even made up a few lines to a song involving robber barons, the KKK, and the game of Monopoly, as he stabbed at various keyboard-bearing instruments.

He started the set proper with a call for requests, and in a move that surprised me, he went straight to the Beatles' "A Day in the Life." I attend fewer of Jon's shows these days, but I feel that the Beatles haven't been part of the rotation during my last few visits, though I always welcome their inclusion. As he often does with crowd favorites, he asked us to sing along, and overall, we delivered nicely, including on the more ethereal parts. It's a ton of fun as a fan.

Jon moved over to the electric guitars and remained on the request train. I'll include the setlist below, but be warned: Many of the titles were only snippets, a lick here and there. "Barracuda" was one such morsel, though Nick Lowe's classic track got a longer airing, complete with guitar buzz and some Les Paul-style fingerpicking.

Jon returned to the piano and warmed up the video decks, bringing out clips of Andres Segovia and Maria Callas. He may have been warming up, as neither added a ton to his eventual performance of "Strings That Tie to You" until he worked in a vocal punch from Maria at the very end. Her contribution didn't follow the blueprint of the song, but if you think of Jon's shows as a laboratory, you might see how it elevates the emotion, especially if you consider that the song is part of the soundtrack for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

It was back to requests for "Sloop John B," and Jon even commended the guy for trying again when Jon didn't bite at first. Once more, he asked us to sing, and because this was Los Angeles, a good portion of the audience not only knew the words, but delivered them pretty well. Kudos to that crew!

By now it was clear that Jon was working directly from our requests instead of operating on his own agenda. Fortunately, that included some of his own songs, so off he went to the drums to lay down the rhythm for "I Believe She's Lying." Odds are Jon can loop a song using dental floss and a paper clip, but I have no problem confessing that given a preference, I'd request that the drum kit be included at every show at Largo.

We once again went into requests/snippets territory with the Buggles, the Smiths, the Zombies, and Abba. Someone tried to request "Monster Mash," which Jon acknowledged. I tossed in one of my annual holiday requests ("Bela Lugosi's Dead"), which elicited a laugh, though not a performance. I yelled out for XTC too, but alas, Jon didn't go there either.

He did apologize for a few moments of "Stairway to Heaven" -- it was that kind of a night -- but went gung-ho for "All the Young Dudes," and again, the audience came through. In a previous Largo life, I recall a performer (Jon? Paul F. Tompkins?) alleging that we all wanted to hear it, but none of us knew any words other than the chorus. Tonight proved to be the rare exception, as the crowd knew at least a couple of verses. Of course we all roared out the chorus in unison and on key. To follow up, Jon gave us a little of the Casablanca theme.

Over to the drums again! It's always fun to guess at what he might be playing, and at first, I thought it would be "Happy With You," which I hadn't heard in a while. But after the second set of loops, I realize it was another song: his own "Get Over Yourself." I'm not crazy about that tune, but I appreciate that he can do a rocker every now and then, not just lovely waltzes (as much as I adore them).

I didn't take extensive notes on this, but Jon went into "Purple Rain" next -- I'm assuming on guitar only, no drums, though I could be wrong. In truth, he didn't sing it at all, aside from the "oooh oooh"s toward the end, instead playing only those immense guitar chords. It was still pretty amazing.

Jon wanted a closer, but I'm not sure we helped much because he went with "Telegram Sam," which I didn't recall hearing among the requests. He did set down some drums for the tune to accompany the guitar, but it was a little tough on his voice, for whatever reason.

Then he dove back into request world, with a lick or two of a bunch of popular songs. My setlist notes "Tom Petty" because it went too fast and the room was too dark for me to attempt anything deeper. I did the best I could with the rest.

"Jump" started out as a joke (maybe in Van Halen's world too?), and Jon even remarked that he would not attempt nor did he expect us to know any of the words. But it got such a huge reception from the audience that Jon gave it a second go, complete with drums and the song's signature synth sounds. It probably helps that "Jump" is entirely of my generation, but I thought it was hella fun.

"Don't Fear the Reaper" was more of a flirtation than a performance, but the next tune offered full commitment. Jon returned to the drum kit and requested that the staff dim the lights all the way down. In the darkness, he unveiled -- ta da -- glow-in-the-dark drumsticks! I guess they were his nod to Halloween, but from my seat, they looked not unlike lightsabers, especially as he started bashing away on an even bigger treat: the Beatles' "The End."

The song was more of an opportunity to play out the drum solo and launch into even more covers, including my beloved "When Doves Cry," along with "Hot Blooded," "Hot Legs," the Cars, Cream, Nirvana, and Patsy Cline. When he circled back to the Beatles, he flipped on the video decks again to air Leon Theremin, Percy Grainger, and Eric Clapton, among others.

Overall, it was a crowd-pleasing set, but through the entirety, Jon was in great spirits and didn't seem to mind catering to us (even if my requests didn't land). It's hard to imagine that anyone left without a smile on their face.

And for those playing at home, the baseball game was in the 16th inning when Jon finished up. What a night!

Setlist
-- piano
-- A Day in the Life
-- Barracuda/Peace, Love, and Understanding
-- Strings That Tie to You
-- Sloop John B
-- I Believe She's Lying
-- Video Killed the Radio Star
-- How Soon Is Now/This Will Be Our Year/Dancing Queen/Stairway to Heaven
-- All the Young Dudes
-- As Time Goes By
-- Get Over Yourself
-- Purple Rain
-- Telegram Sam
-- Cherry Bomb/Tom Petty/Sea of Love/I Want Candy
-- Jump
-- Don't Fear the Reaper
-- The End
-- When Doves Cry
-- Hot Blooded/Hot Legs/My Best Friend's Girl/Peter Gunn/Sunshine of Your Love/Crazy/The End

oh that city sound

Hat tip to Denise for informing me of Kevin Morby's show at the California Academy of Sciences' NightLife program. Chances are I would've missed it entirely -- and regretted it -- otherwise.

Kevin Morby, California Academy of the Sciences, October 11, 1018

One of my favorite books when I was a kid was From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg. I'm hardly alone, as this classic has endured over the years. I credit that book with instilling in me at a young age a desire to go to New York City and see that wondrous museum for myself. Fortunately, I've been able to scratch that itch, though I had to leave at closing time, just like everyone else.

I wonder if the NightLife team was similarly inspired. I've attended at least one event before at the DeYoung Museum, but it was a broader, cocktail-party-style shindig. I hadn't been to an actual rock show at any of San Francisco's cultural landmarks.

Early in the evening, the Academy was fairly mellow. Though certain sections were roped off, the line for the rainforest exhibit was manageable, and you could check out the planetarium if you bought a ticket for a specific time. Unsurprisingly, I did neither, though this was mostly due to the fact that I had visited a few months ago with my cousin. I flipped through Amoeba's bins and wandered around a bit, but mostly I wanted to see the show.

There was no need to line up, but when indications came in that it was almost time, the audience moved in accordingly around the stage. The crowd was respectable outside, where the show was held, but I suspect the majority of visitors that night were there for the museum, not the entertainment. For the music fans, it was a comfortable fit. Meanwhile, we could see the museum visitors wandering over to take it as the concert proceeded.

Kevin Morby and crew were last here only in April, and thus, they put on a similar show. I was surprised to see that Meg Duffy was there, mainly because I thought I saw an Instagram post about her leaving the tour for gigs with her own band Hand Habits. I was happy to be proven wrong, as she remains a sorceress on guitar. Also in the band was their keyboardist, who was new to the group for the show at the Fillmore. He's stuck around, and he sounded great.

Alas, Kevin wore a white medical-looking jumpsuit this time around. We didn't get to see that fantastic Nudie-style suit again.

The set was slightly shorter than the show at the Fillmore, as they hit much of City Music and a number of favorite older tracks, including "Parade" and "I Have Been to the Mountain." As I recall, the audience was very supportive at the Fillmore, and the people in the front at least were at least as invested at the Academy. I could hear a fellow somewhere behind me singing along to each song -- and doing it well, to boot!

Also unlike the Fillmore show, this gig took place outdoors, in an open courtyard adjacent to the museum. If you stood back far enough, you were under the stars, but over by the stage, we were sort of under an overhang. To highlight the incredible exhibits behind the band, the lighting person projected natural images, including stars, branches, birds, and more, against the backdrop. You wouldn't have mistaken it for a headlining set at Coachella, but it was a nice nod to the venue.

Kevin closed the show with a solo song (though I've now forgotten which one), and we probably could've listened to several more. Let's hope this is the beginning of even more good stuff from him.

See also:
» may you find out who you are

early in the morning

When Wilcoworld announced Jeff Tweedy's show at the Fillmore, it took about a minute for anyone who's familiar with the San Francisco concert calendar to note the date and conclude that an appearance at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival would follow. Lo and behold, confirmation eventually followed.

Jeff Tweedy, Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, Oct. 6, 2018

I approached this festival appearance the only way I know how: I woke up (too) early, gathered my supplies, and headed out to the park. Fortunately, a couple of factors worked in my favor: (1) I live pretty close to the park, and (2) Jeff was scheduled for the Rooster Stage, one of the smaller stages at the festival. Granted, the Rooster Stage can be a pain to access later in the day, after the crowds have filled in, but in the morning, it was as open as I've seen it. And it's still a huge improvement over the free-for-all of the Banjo Stage, which Jeff and Tweedy have played before. Coincidentally, just as I arrived, I saw my friend Jenn and her crew setting down blankets, chairs, and all the usual accessories. I took my place next to them.

Thus, I activated festival mode, which means I don't go anywhere until my preferred performer plays. Jeff was the headliner, which meant I was there all day. It wasn't exactly a hardship, as San Francisco's summer kicked in with blue skies and a slight breeze. The trees surrounding the meadow offered exactly the right amount of shade too. I don't think I felt a moment of discomfort all day. It also helped that Paul arrived around noon with a burrito and a beverage.



The Rooster Stage often follows a format. Over the last few years, Conor Oberst has hosted his own revue at the Rooster Stage on the Friday of the festival. This year, Buddy Miller was the curator for much of the day, but not immediately. First up was the Go to Hell Man Band, composed of family and friends of the late festival founder Warren Hellman. They hit a bunch of Americana classics and looked like they were having fun. More importantly, they reminded us of the festival's roots and, honestly, how lucky we are that the tradition continues, even after Warren's passing. Let 'em play!

I have to admit I don't know much about Buddy Miller, and I fully expected a surplus of old-timey stuff. I was happy to be proven wrong, as Buddy's selections for his cavalcade of stars offered different takes on what constitutes roots music these days.

To start, the Cave Singers played their take on modern indie rock. I was unfamiliar with Tracy Nelson but soon learned of her ties to the '60s-era San Francisco music scene, and I appreciated the fact that Buddy chose to highlight her talents. In some ways, Molly Tuttle is the traditional fit for this festival with her bluegrass skills. At the same time, she presented a very young face to this storied history of Americana. The War and the Treaty were an African American husband-wife duo who took the energy way up with their spirited delivery and up-tempo tunes. All of them were highly entertaining, and they each joined Buddy Miller for his own set to cap off the cavalcade.

By the time Jeff took the stage, my original cohorts had left to go see Ani DiFranco's set, but as is the way of festivals, other fans and curious parties had streamed in to take their place. Still, it remained comfortable at the front, and we never felt pressed.

If memories of the Fillmore show lingered, I don't think Jeff showed it, though Paul posits that Jeff's song selection ("You Are Not Alone," "Ashes of American Flags") indicated otherwise. However, Jeff was all smiles as he came on, the only true solo performer of the day, and squinted into the setting sun to take in the audience. I hope he liked what he saw.

Jeff played his usual festival set for a little more than an hour. Some of his standards are certainly made for such occasions when you're playing in a grove of trees out on the best coast: "Remember the Mountain Bed," "California Stars," "Acuff Rose," among others. Once more, he asked us to sing with him on "Let's Go Rain," and the crowd seemed amenable, at least from where I stood. Jeff of course couldn't help himself from making fun of us and himself here and there. I think the audience got it. And for us die-hards on the rail, "A Shot in the Arm" was a great closer to get us singing, to keep the energy up, and to remind us of how far the Americana label can stretch.

Thus, I exhausted my allotment of Jeff Tweedy concerts for 2018. I certainly got to see more of his shows this year than I have recently, though perhaps I'll never reach the same numbers I hit during the prime years when we drove through states at all hours for shows. I probably saw more drama than usual, thanks to that gig at my favorite place in the city I call home, but overall, we ended on a high note, with a bunch of good times thrown in. Can't wait to start it up again.

See also:
» feels lucky to have you here
» summer noon
» i will try to understand
» make something that no one else has
» the old buildings downtown empty so long ago

i will try to understand

Either way.

Jeff Tweedy, the Fillmore, October 5, 2018

Ahhh, back home, to the show I most wanted to see in the venue that I treasured the most, especially in comparison to the seated shows in Vancouver and Seattle. But fact ended up much stranger than fiction by the end of the night.

The evening started out well enough, the San Francisco's enthusiasm readily apparent. Jeff started with a bunch of new songs, and the crowd was receptive, if slightly more restless than the usual rapt audience. It was a Friday night, after all. I took Jeff's choice of playing unreleased tracks as a sign that he trusted the San Francisco audience enough to give them a chance. I think we did, for the most part, including for the languorous "Remember the Mountain Bed," though the typical interjections flew between songs.



I had brought my friend Dean, who was seeing Jeff solo for the first time. He was an Uncle Tupelo fan, so we were both thrilled to hear "New Madrid" early on. Later, he got to hear "Acuff Rose" during the encore for an extra treat.

I guess I might as well jump into the incident now. About halfway through the show, Jeff got into an extended exchange standing front and center. Believe it or not, I was off to the side, so I didn't quite understand what was happening immediately. Apparently, the man said something in support of Brett Kavanaugh's confirmation to the U.S. Supreme Court. They went back and forth for a little while, and from what I can recall, the man at one point said Kavanaugh "ratified Roe." Jeff's reply: "You don't know what 'ratify' means." (My aside: And even if he did, he's wrong because there's no way in hell that Kavanaugh will support Roe v. Wade in its current form.)

I can't tell you how long they debated, but it felt like forever, and we could see both Fillmore security and Jeff's tour manager moving toward the man. From my vantage point, I could see the guy doing the classic bully pose of pointing and jabbing his finger in Jeff's direction, as if physical intimidation is his normal go-to strategy. Jeff didn't back down from his own stance, and eventually, the guy was kicked out of the show, though his wife and preteen child stayed. Jeff gave the boy his harmonica and holder as a peace offering, though I don't know if it helped.

After the show, I heard from more than one friend who said Jeff probably let the scene go on for too long and that maybe he could've handled it with his more customary sense of caustic humor. All I can say is I admired Jeff's support and his affirmation. For many of us, the Kavanaugh hearings brought up cutting emotions. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I cried at my desk for many days over the testimony of Dr. Ford and the revelations from women who had gone through their own ordeals. Perhaps Jeff knew those feelings too, and perhaps they were as important to him. It's not often you hear from such a strong ally from his own platform like that.

As you can imagine, the confrontation hung over the rest of the show, though the man was gone. Jeff recovered as best he could, and it was the perfect time to bring out "Let's Go Rain," singalong and all. Even better, he played my request for "Either Way" right after. Yes, I admit I voted a few times on Wilco's website, but after Jeff's reports at the Pacific Northwest shows that people mostly voted for one song each, I figured I could stuff the ballot box a little. For the record, I think I cast a grand total of three votes. Plan accordingly if you want to rig the results on your own!

Also, I'm jaded and I've attended way too many Jeff and Wilco shows, but tonight "Jesus etc." was the perfect choice to follow the heckler, as were all the other songs we could sing along to.

I've seen lots of memorable shows at the Fillmore. Add this one to the list, though maybe not for the reasons I'd like.

See also:
» make something that no one else has
» the old buildings downtown empty so long ago

you are blessed

Rocktober is a magical time in the Bay Area, but I'm not the one to report it, as my concert calendar has shrunken over the years. But give me a gig in a tiny venue with a talent like Tom Brosseau, and I'll be there, no problem.

Tom Brosseau, the Lost Church, October 4, 2018

I'm a little embarrassed because I'm going to report right away that I can't name a single song that Tom played at the show. This is what I get for not taking notes and not writing my reviews immediately! So if you don't mind that little confession, I'll proceed with my post as normal.

This gig has been a long time coming for me. I've been able to see Tom Brosseau many times at Largo, including when he opened for Jon Brion. He's also a frequent guest of the Watkins Family. In fact, if you get the chance to watch the Largo movie, you'll be treated to see at least one song from him. I feel that I've seen him many more times, even if I can't point to the posts that prove this.



In any case, I love his voice, but I've failed to see his shows in the Bay Area. As I recall, he often plays at house gigs or not quite in San Francisco -- or maybe I simply haven't been on top of proceedings. Bottom line: I finally got to go.

The Lost Church is a tiny space a couple of blocks from the BART station at 16th and Mission. A hostess welcomed me at the door and informed me (and other attendees) that I was blessed. Inside, it's warm and cozy, seating no more than 50 or 60 people in a semicircle around a slightly elevated stage. You couldn't have asked for a better environment.

Tom hit the stage with only an acoustic guitar and a few pages of notes. As you can imagine, he stuck with the troubador formula. A good chunk of his performance featured stories about Lou Curtiss, a folk music aficionado in San Diego who recently passed away. Tom told of the many songs that Lou had taught him, and he even played a few of them, including one from the Carter Family. My favorite aside was Tom's comment that all Carter Family tracks started the same.

Tom ended up reading from the notes he carried onstage. He didn't say what they were. They might've been lyrics to a new song, though they also sounded substantial enough to be a short story of some sort. I guess we'll have to tune in to see how they turn out.

And of course, along the way, he told a few stories about growing up in North Dakota, and he talked a little bit about what he felt were his duties as an artist (i.e., not necessarily being political, yet trying to reflect the times). I don't know the audience's familiarity with Tom, but when he mentioned Largo, a handful of people clapped, and when he asked for requests from his catalog, one person offered a suggestion. Overall, we were attentive and respectful, and I hope he appreciated our high regard for his performance.

A local artist named Meredith Axelrod opened the show. She sang a number of standards, joking that every song was from 1902 or about the 1930s. I don't know if it was a matter of training or her innate abilities, but her voice was a perfect throwback to that time, one you could imagine coming from a Victrola. She and Tom sang a song about a horse together (sorry again for the lack of titles). They were a lovely match and hinted at the possibility of touring together in the future.

Now that I've finally seen Tom play in the Bay Area, I can happily report that I'll be back whenever he is.

See also:
» i was dreamin' when i wrote this
» blue christmas

the old buildings downtown empty so long ago

Seattle ended up as the whirlwind portion of this quick trip, serving mainly as a gateway to Vancouver, but there was the matter of attending Jeff Tweedy's show at the Moore Theatre between arrival and departure.

Jeff Tweedy, the Moore Theatre, September 30, 2018

I'm ashamed to admit that I don't venture to the Pacific Northwest often, though it's such an easy trip from the Bay Area. It should surprise no one that my last two trips to Seattle coincided with my last two trips to Vancouver. Funny how that works out! But at least we managed to hit Salumi and a Dave Rawlings Machine gig in 2010.

If you're planning to hit both Seattle and Vancouver in a weekend, keep in mind you can anticipate a three-hour drive between the cities, not including however long it takes to get through the border crossing. For various reasons, it made sense for me to fly in and out of Seattle, but it might not work for everyone.

The compressed time frame meant that I didn't do much in Seattle other than see Jeff's show, but that was more than sufficient because it was a good one. I can't explain what changed, except that the Seattle gig was an improvement over Vancouver. Maybe it was the venue, which was much more comfortable than the Vogue. Maybe it was the American audience. Maybe it was Jeff. In any case, it felt different from the get-go.

Shortly before the show, someone informed us that Jeff had asked for requests for the night's show, via his Twitter account. Because I was driving, I had missed the message. I guess enough people had come through that Jeff brought a small pile of papers to the stage with the compiled songs. As he explained, the website had gone down, and they had to assemble the list by hand. As usual, Jeff quipped that the range of requests proved that he had yet to write a trademark hit, but we all know it means that we dig into the deep cuts all across his career.

Perhaps as a sign of his comfort with the crowd and the market, Jeff started with a couple of new songs. No reason to lull us into a false sense of security with the hits, I suppose! But the truth is Jeff (Wilco, too) works from a core setlist, then adds and subtracts, based on the audience and vibe and so on. Thus, "Remember the Mountain Bed" (a good choice in this landscape), "New Madrid," "Passenger Side," and "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart" all showed up, but Jeff sprinkled "Lost Love," "Sky Blue Sky," and "Hate It Here" into the performance as well.



Also following his blueprint, he talked trash about the Canadians too. It's a sign of love, I promise. Funny enough, our three nations had agreed to the new NAFTA agreement that day, and Jeff joked about his role in the negotiations.

I've been out of the rock tourism circuit long enough that I've kind of forgotten what it's like to see the same artist in more than one town in successive nights, but it doesn't take long to realize a different energy between shows. Seattle simply felt more relaxed, on both the performer's and the audience's side. From this fan's point of view, it was a welcome reminder of why I go to these gigs time and time again.

See also:
» waiting for a postcard
» i believe in locomotion
» make something that no one else has
» his old rain's just about soaked through

make something that no one else has

For various reasons, I've had to curtail my rock tourism. But when Jeff Tweedy's concert dates came out, I saw the perfect opportunity to get away for the weekend and to see friends. Northward ho to the Vogue Theatre in Vancouver, British Columbia!

Jeff Tweedy, Vogue Theatre, September 29, 2018

On my last trip to Vancouver, I somehow managed to miss the entirety of the Winter Olympics, all to see a couple of Wilco shows. I guess we caught a glimpse of the torch, and it was impossible to avoid the crowds, but I failed to witness a single athletic event. I'm a little embarrassed by that admission, but to be honest, I probably wouldn't do anything differently even now.

I'd also only vaguely recalled an earlier trip to Vancouver, but one draw remained the same: the opportunity to visit with Judy and her family. I'm happy to report that they are as lovely as ever, and I immediately remembered how much I enjoy my time with them. I wish we could do it more often, but that's the way it goes these days. Judy's a great tour guide around Vancouver, as well.

Clearly, it's been a while, and I had little expectations of the Vancouver audience, not to mention this was a Jeff show, not a Wilco performance. The Vogue itself was a classic older theater, though on the claustrophobic side. The seats were entirely too small and too cramped, and our feet stuck to the floor -- not great ambience. But it still qualified as intimate if you were on the ground level.

I've been far from deprived of Jeff's shows, but it's been a while since I've seen him play for a general audience. From my experience, this was a good albeit typical Jeff show. He went with a handful of new songs, including the mainstay in the making "Let's Go Rain," which some of us first heard at Largo last December. We got a couple more from the upcoming solo album, a handful from Together at Last (I guess he hasn't officially toured to promote it on the West Coast), and a number of old favorites from his vast catalog, including Uncle Tupelo and Woody Guthrie tracks.

One of the surprises in the set was "You and I," from the often overlooked Wilco (The Album), but when you think about it, you realize it qualifies as Canadian content. Me, I remember the time that we saw Feist sing it onstage with Wilco in -- where else? -- Los Angeles. I also like that he's doing "Impossible Germany" on his own. Jeff sometimes likes to remind the audience that we're missing Nels' contribution to that iconic track, but it's a gem in its stripped-down state too.

Overall, it was a fine reintroduction to rock tourism and Jeff's solo shows, but I was happy to know that I had several more shows on the docket.

See also:
» the park grows dark
» waiting for a postcard
» sorry charlie honey he's back from LA
» it's become so obvious

the mind is shot but the body's fine

Ahh, the fall touring season -- the music nerd's favorite time of the year. Heck, even I can be convinced to venture outside at night for a show featuring the older, wiser Gaz Coombes.

Gaz Coombes, Swedish American Hall, Sept. 23, 2018

A couple of years ago, I caught Gaz Coombes live at Slim's, and he turned me into a bigger fan of his solo work than of his Supergrass oeuvre. Since then, I've seen announcements for a smattering of Gaz's live appearances, particularly in Los Angeles, and for once, I felt a bit of FOMO. I managed to miss him in the Bay Area earlier this year, but not this time.

In my opinion, the nuances of Gaz's solo performance at Slim's kinda fell to the wayside, due to the club atmosphere. Though I enjoyed the show, the details escape me. Perhaps if he brings a full band with him, Slim's could work, but for his current act, the Swedish American is a much better spot, even if he hinted that we were too sedate at times.

At the Swedish American, he was the sole focus on the compact stage, flanked by a piano and a handful of guitars. We heard the piano tuner was responsible in part for the delay in doors opening, but it was a small price to pay for the pristine sound.

Gaz explained that he had recently completed a tour of Australia and New Zealand. Also, he had appeared on The Late Late Show with James Corden earlier that week. I'm so out of it these days that I wasn't aware of his TV slot! But I enjoy knowing that Anglophiles have at least one national media outlet for their favorite acts.

I hadn't heard the new album at the time of the show, so unfortunately I can't say much about the new songs (good job, blogger!). But I recall one song where he turned on the loopers to create those lush layers of sound and instrumentation that we all take for granted these days. I, for one, welcome our new looping overlords.

In the couple of years since that show at Slim's, Matador has hit heavy rotation on my iPhone. Gaz wisely elected to play "The Girl Who Fell to Earth" and "Detroit" from the record. He introduced each with stories: the former about raising his young daughter, the latter about a meltdown in the Motor City when he was still in Supergrass. Both are worth the download if you like Gaz's later-era work.

That evening, he closed with two songs from Supergrass: "Moving" and "Caught by the Fuzz." The crowd perked up for both (though to be fair, audience members had lobbed the customary "I love you"s and whatnot throughout the show). On "Moving," we tried to clap along with the chorus, and we simply hooted and hollered with "Caught by the Fuzz." I think if he had asked us to leave our seats and come closer to the stage we would've happily (and politely) jumped around for the old favorites. Instead, we bopped in our chairs.

After the show, Gaz signed and took photos with fans, and the fellow in front of me in line made the most of the opportunity with about a half-dozen records for him to autograph. I heard a lot of "I saw Supergrass back in the day" stories too. Gaz was gracious and attentive through it all. I love his post-Britpop success story.

See also:
» they want your heart and soul

there's nothing safe about this life

It took a little while, but it finally happened! Off to Largo to see Neil and Liam Finn together!

Neil and Liam Finn, Largo at the Coronet, August 18, 2018

I had every intention of catching one of Neil Finn's shows at Largo when he was preparing to tour with Fleetwood Mac. At the time, I was working from home and had all the freedom in the world. But after a couple of dates, they dried up. In the meantime, I got a "real" job, so my opportunities would've been limited anyway. Good thing, then, that Neil's next date -- coincidentally with Liam -- fell on a Saturday.

Neil Finn is one of my longtime favorites, and though I'm not as dedicated as I used to be, he's always a treat at Largo. A more qualified Largo regular will have to confirm whether this is the first official Neil and Liam co-headlining show. We've likely seen them together before, but not with this billing.

They started with Liam's "Bottled Up," then sort of traded turns, interspersing tracks from their new album along the way. They explained that in assembling the setlist, they favored the Crowded House songs that Liam heard while growing up, so we got a good chunk of Woodface and Together Alone, particularly tracks that have been somewhat lost to time. One friend cited "Anytime" as a beloved tune that we haven't heard in ages, and Neil trotted out the old chestnut of Liam's contributions to "Pineapple Head." Liam ended up taking Tim Finn's role on numerous tracks, including "Edible Flowers," though he went for a much more mischievous treatment. (Let's face it: That song is a downer, except for Neil's trademark soaring bridge.)

Unfortunately, two months after the show, I can't remember all the details of who played what and who said what. They jumped around on instruments a bit, with Neil doing a good chunk of piano. Liam did some goofy stuff on guitar, at one point coaxing a cosmic sweeping sound from his pedals and effects.

The real star of the show was the chemistry and bonhomie between the two Finns, and they had no problem professing their love and admiration for each other. At one point, Liam jumped on his dad's back -- with no harm to Neil! They were both incredibly earnest, but thankfully cut the sweetness with a lot of humor. We've reached the point in rock's history that parent-child duos have come along and shown that you can inherit (and nurture) talent, but it's always gratifying to see it with your favorite musicians.

Their styles contrast sharply, but somehow it works. In fact, maybe that's how the best partnerships function. Neil is sort of known as a pop genius, ever charming and understated, whereas Liam is an experimenter and a madman. Onstage, they slightly blur the line, with Neil encouraging the chaos, urging Liam to push the envelope (and the pedals). You marvel at the trust they share, not only with each other but with the Largo audience. Most performers of their stature and caliber wouldn't take the chance.

The new record is out now, so I won't bother trying to describe the songs (though I probably wouldn't have attempted to do so anyway). Instead, I'll note that the show was all Neil and Liam. Though we could hear Sebastian Steinberg's voice somewhere backstage, they didn't call on his services.

Look, this is hardly a news bulletin, but it's always worth saying: Go see Neil (and Liam) Finn at Largo, whenever you can.

See also:
» above you and beyond me too

trying to figure out our lives

Outside Lands is not my favorite thing, but the accompanying night shows certainly are, and with Denise's help, I was able to get into the one gig I wanted to see: Broken Social Scene.

Broken Social Scene, the Independent, Aug. 10, 2018

Can you ever seen enough of a band? Sometimes! But certain performers/artists will always bring me in, and Broken Social Scene is one such example. This collective comes and goes, and for that reason, I'm inclined to catch them as much as I can. But it comes down to the music: They've created some of my favorite tunes and put on a fantastic show to boot. I'll show up as often as I can.

These night shows are supposed to be a complement to the festival sets, but it's up to the musicians to decide how to address the difference. I'm biased of course, but Wilco's all-acoustic set at the same venue a few years back was one of my favorites. It was also a special occasion, as the band went with its customary electric show at the festival itself the next day.

Broken Social Scene didn't opt for such a stark difference, but the changes were more notable in the setlist. Tonight was the night for deep cuts and rarer tracks ... after a rough start in which the band couldn't seem to get on the same page or find its energy. After a handful of songs that sounded fine to me, Kevin declared that they were going to play every song like it was the finale. That seemed to do the trick!

No question my favorite track was "Shampoo Suicide," which rarely gets an airing. I can't understand a word of this song, but it's dreamy and alluring, and I can get lost in the layers of sound. Andrew Whiteman got another turn in the spotlight with his showcase "Fire Eye'd Boy." Furthermore, his better half Ariel Engle performed a slinky, seductive track from La Force.

More rarities were a couple of tracks from Forgiveness Rock Record, "Texico Bitches" and "Sweetest Kill." The former has the kind of chorus you want to yell as loud as you can, and it didn't hurt that Kevin chose to sing this song while mingling with the audience. The latter, meanwhile, is Broken Social Scene at its sultriest. The beauty of the combo is that Broken Social Scene can do both.

We got a number of mainstays too, including "Stars and Sons" and the always affecting "Anthems for a 17-Year-Old Girl." Maybe it was the size of the venue, the late hour, the early frustrations, or the general state of the world, but "Anthems" was even more moving than usual. I hope they never lose it (and I doubt they will).

I should also note that this was a true night show, with the tunes starting sometime after 10 pm, I guess to allow the day's fest-goers to attend. It was exhausting after a week of work and commuting, but it was all worth it. As I understand it, Broken Social Scene has extended this tour all across the country, and I don't blame them one bit. I'd love to see them again, but if it doesn't happen, at least I took advantages of the sporadic opportunities.

See also:
» i'd be lying if i said it wasn't easy

your voice breaks every time

Hi! This thing is still on! Expect more of the content you know and love to follow, starting with Jeff Tweedy.

Jeff Tweedy, Chateau du Polpettino, June 23, 2018

I make no predictions on how these shows with Jeff shake out, but give me half a reason to go, and I'll be there. I had more than half a reason, and as always, the trip to Chicago was a treat. The weather even held for this climate wimp!

Our gracious host and hostess at Chateau du Polpettino set out a sparkling spread as always, and they unsurprisingly excelled at welcoming the new faces as well. I did my part at shaking hands and taking coats, but honestly, Paul, Jeff, and Elizabeth had it all under control.

In the past, Jeff and Susan's arrival has been both businesslike and familial. One group takes care of Jeff's equipment and ushers him downstairs, while another contingent often gathers around Susan for hugs and chatter. There was less of the latter this time, as perhaps she didn't know many of the patrons as well, but several of us were able to usher her in as well.

I've had the grand fortune of enjoying these shows with numerous people I consider to be close friends, so this was a new situation for me too. Of course, I was hardly alone, and in fact, I had helped recruit a couple of new faces to the group, but still, I was in relatively unfamiliar waters. I felt this newness most prominently in the banter. Look, I don't go to as many Wilco or Jeff Tweedy shows as I used to, and my rock tourism is mostly limited to California these days. I know very well that Jeff has pockets of loyal fans all over the country, but this was probably the first time in a while that I've been in it so deep. Needless to say, the enthusiasm was endearing to see.

Two fans played with Jeff this time: Candi, who accompanied him on acoustic bass (!) for "Handshake Drugs," and Joe, who played with him on "Misunderstood." They both did well, particularly Joe on a tough song that's known for a large improvisational swath. As someone with no musical talent whatsoever, I can only imagine the thrill of playing with Jeff. Still, the joy and glow on their faces after the songs tell you all you need to know.

I was pleased to hear someone else request "Either Way" for a change (thanks, Matt!), and I was more than happy to pipe up when Jeff almost forgot one person's (George's) request. As for my request, as you know I put a lot of thought into it, and it's a fine line between pushing the envelope and assuaging the artist. But I thought about the songs I haven't heard in an acoustic setting, sent out a couple of option, added a wing and a prayer for fun, and ended up with "Diamond Light" from the Tweedy record. It sounded awesome, by the way, though I know the drum and bass create the drama on the album version. Maybe we'll see it join Jeff's setlist in the future. If it does, know where it started. ;)

The full history
» i'm simple as a matter of fact
» name me a song that everybody knows
» i wish that i knew what I know now
» people say i'm crazy doing what i'm doing
» the message
» all the ladies and gentlemen
» that year
» springtime comes
» turn our prayers to outrageous dares
» every day is dreamlike
» it's been a while

maybe it's time to live

I'm trying -- I'm really trying. Thus, I bought my ticket to see the eels at the Fillmore months ago ... and actually went to the show.

eels, the Fillmore, May 31, 2018

The wayback machine says I haven't seen eels since 2011, and it sure feels like it. E hasn't dropped in at Largo since the move to La Cienega, and I've missed at least one of their tours, if not more. It was time to turn that ship around.

On a related note, this drought meant I had no idea what to expect at the show. As I recall, eels have a penchant for the dramatic, and I guess we got a hint of that, with the risers and flood lights occupying the stage. But they left the flight suits, goggles, and whatnot at home, opting for a coordinated but workaday uniform. They emerged to the theme from Rocky, then jumped into a Who cover, followed by a Prince cover. I'll mention for the jillionth time that I've had the pleasure of hearing E perform "Raspberry Beret" several times at Largo, on some occasions with better recall than others. It doesn't get old.

Now that the eels have 20-plus years and more than a dozen albums under their belt, it's hard to know what songs they'd roll out from their catalog. And to be honest, I haven't kept up with the more recent releases, so it was a treat for me to hear so many selections across the discography. My favorite is probably Electro-Shock Blues, so "Climbing to the Moon" and "P.S. I Love You" are more than welcome. But the inclusion of tracks like "A Magic World" come as nice surprises too.



I had forgotten how much eels like to change up their tracks, so even the essentials and old-school hits such as "Novocaine for the Soul" and "I Like Birds." Going back to Largo memories: E always lit up at the prospect of Led Zeppelin covers, so when one particularly heavy intro rolled out, I wondered if we were dipping into some good ol' 1970s AOR. Instead, it was the former MTV hit video in an arrangement I can't recall hearing at previous gigs, though perhaps it was closer to Sabbath than Zeppelin. The overall effect was the same [insert rawk emoji].

One of the bigger surprises of the show was the fact that E has finally leaned hard into his love of Prince. Somewhere in the archives, I have a bootleg of a show at Largo where he sang "If I Was Your Girlfriend," and I've been there personally when he turned down the request, claiming he didn't actually know the words. He didn't do the song this time, but "When You Were Mine" was a fine substitute. Prince's death hit so many of us hard; I don't know if it's a tribute, but it's always a treat. We also heard the band take on "Love and Mercy," another song I'll never turn off.

Here's to 20-plus years of eels, in all of their weirdness and unpredictability. I hope that never changes.

See also:
» before i sputter out
» i'm offering this simple phrase
» i go for it every time

you must be an artist

There's been so much sad news lately, and I have no answer for it. But I knew I had made the right decision to attend Kevin Barnes' solo acoustic show when the first two songs I heard over the PA were by David Bowie and Roxy Music.

Kevin Barnes, Swedish American Hall, May 25, 2018

I have no concept of trends, upticks, downgrades, or anything these days, so I go by instinct on when to jump on tickets and when to let demand play out. My sense was Kevin Barnes doesn't tour by himself a whole lot -- at least not in the Bay Area -- so I might as well catch this show. And as recent experience has reminded me, don't pass up the opportunity to see special artists when you can.

It's been a while since I've seen Of Montreal, but I have fond memories of those shows, filled with spectacle and theatrics. However, the appearance I won't forget for a long time is a visit to the Little Room at Largo and a tearful rendition of "Mother." (Um, I saw Kevin at Largo at the Coronet twice?!) And really, a solo acoustic performance is like catnip to me.

Kevin informed the crowd that he has a new album and played several songs from the record. The audience happily went along for the ride, though once again, I'll profess ignorance of most of Kevin's work. But they sang with him, roared out the choruses, and of course proclaimed their love for him. I wouldn't have expected anything less.

I will always associate Of Montreal with ornate, florid production, so it was fantastic to hear the songs in their stripped-down form. Even in their most fundamental form, Kevin's songs probably wouldn't be classified as folk music; his melodies are still a little too baroque for the genre. This is not a bad thing; in fact, Kevin's trademark musicality remains untouched. In a couple of spots, he provided his own echoing backing vocals and a cappella synth sounds for the full DIY effect.

The other major contrast to his performances with Of Montreal was his appearance. He wore no makeup, showed little product in his hair, and donned jeans and a t-shirt -- albeit a bright print that he claimed was his mother's, along with a sparkly necklace. He fit right in among the clean lines and natural materials at the Swedish Music Hall.

Kevin bantered amiably, but I can't remember any of the exchanges, other than the intro to his closing song. He halfway apologized for one phrase and asked if it was acceptable. The song was, of course, "Bunny Ain't No Kind of Rider" (a former favorite at Largo), and the phrase was "faggy girl." I'm sure someone out there will find offense, but I'm not one of them. Anyway, it was fun as hell to hear, especially with the audience chipping in all over.

I don't need to say it, but Kevin Barnes is absolutely legit, eyeliner or no.

See also:
» the only dancer i believe in
» everybody's gotta learn sometimes
» really quite out of sight

may you find out who you are

Those of us who see shows in San Francisco often get to witness a milestone on a regular basis: a band's first Fillmore headlining slot. It happened again, as Kevin Morby and band took the stage. They lived up to the billing and the occasion.

Kevin Morby, the Fillmore, April 5, 2018

I don't write about opening bands much anymore, partly because I'm lazy and partly because they haven't been inspiring to me. But one of the better openers I've seen in a while is Kevin Morby, first at Wilco's five-night Fillmore stand, then at Solid Sound. He was definitely the best of the rotating list of opening bands we saw that week, and even then, a friend from Los Angeles with a singer/songwriter husband said he was getting a ton of buzz in SoCal. But Solid Sound, er, solidified his standing. In short, he and his band sounded fantastic, and I knew I had to check them out when they came back around. Alas, I missed that opportunity, as his show at the Great American Music Hall sold out before I could get a ticket. Thankfully, you can often count on repeat visits to San Francisco.

Last time they came to the Fillmore, Kevin and gang squeezed in to the relatively small patch of stage available to them between Wilco's instruments, monitors, pedals, cables, and whatnot. Now they spread out across as much of the stage as they wanted, which is always a sight to behold. I don't actually remember how many people were in the band on that visit, but Kevin introduced one member (a man on violin) as new -- so that's one upgrade. Another upgrade: Kevin's fantastic custom suit. I seriously can't get enough of it.

I'm going to come clean: I don't know much of Kevin's work before the current album, though I've listened enough to recognize his song on the Volvo commercial. But combine that with the handful of live shows I've heard via podcast, I knew I had to go the show.

As you might expect, Kevin favored songs from the new record, and if you allow me to indulge for a moment in playing Spot the Influences, I'd like to mention that "Crybaby" reminds me so much of the Pixies, especially when guitarist Meg Duffy's vocals come in. I mean that in the best way! Honestly, all the songs off City Music were awesome, and we danced all over the place to them.

Regarding the aforementioned Volvo ad, it features the song "Harlem River," and of course he did it, though the crowd didn't treat it as anything special or unusual. But it got me to thinking again about what constitutes pop music and indie music. In my world, tracks such as "City Music" and "Crybaby" would be huge hits, and maybe headlining a show at the Fillmore is a pretty good mark of success. As a fan, I can't complain about getting to see the band at this point in their development, and truth be told, I don't enjoy bigger venues. Still, a part of me wants more people to know how great they are. Sigh -- it's the eternal struggle.

Though I wasn't familiar with Kevin's back catalog, I had no problem getting into the older songs he played. The two that stood out most to me were "Parade" and "Beautiful Strangers" (the latter performed as a solo acoustic track at the end of the main set). Both have a generally hopeful air and lush, developing storylines that you don't really want to end. The audience even joined in with impromptu clapping on "Beautiful Strangers" to support Kevin. (My immediate thought: Jeff Tweedy would tell them to stop.) I was smitten.

Katie Crutchfield from Waxahatchee joined the band for a couple of songs at the end of the main set. The first was "Downtown's Lights," and together, the two added extra twang to the track, sounding not unlike a modern version of Johnny Cash and June Carter. The other tune was a cover of Jason Molina's "The Dark Don't Hide It," which I understand they've been performing regularly and have released as a single for charity.



During the show, Kevin mentioned their earlier opening slots at the Fillmore, first with Real Estate and more recently with Wilco. Those of us who were there let him know when he asked if anyone had gone to the shows. Then he added that the Fillmore gig was the most tickets they've sold to a show in North America. It comes as no surprise to me that Kevin could be bigger in Europe than in the United States, as evidenced by the fellows next to me who reported that they had first seen him in Paris (France, not Texas). Though the venue wasn't completely sold out, the crowd was enthusiastic and just shy of a crush. It was the best of all worlds, and more important, we let the band understand exactly how much we loved having them in town. We even got a hallowed custom Fillmore poster at the end of the night.

Meg Duffy and her two-person band Hand Habits opened, and she was just as good on her own as she is with Kevin's group. Her guitar skills color the songs so vividly, and in some cases, she takes them past the "folk" label that many people seem to want to lazily apply to Kevin. She closed her set with "The Only Living Boy in New York." To sum up: It was a perfect night, and I can't wait to do it again.

See also:
» always hated normal american kids
» so flattered by fate

push your old numbers

I'm a creature of rules, but if you happen to be a lifelong friend visiting me from afar, I'm more than willing to bend a few of them to spend time with you. Thus, it was off to enjoy a night in the Mission District, complete with burritos and '90s indie rock heroes Kristin Hersh and Grant-Lee Phillips, in the company of my old pal Jacki.

Kristin Hersh and Grant-Lee Phillips, the Chapel, March 29, 2018

About Jacki -- we saw a lot of music together back when she lived in the Bay Area, and in fact, she was my Grant Lee Buffalo buddy for a long time, seeing their shows all over the Bay Area. I'm not sure even she understands the magnitude of the concert we saw at Slim's in 1994. It kicked my ass and opened my eyes to the power of modern American indie music. If it weren't for that gig, I'm not sure I would've found my way to Wilco, and though I think I would've discovered Largo at some point, I doubt I'd have staked my claim when I did.

Fast-forward a jillion years, and she happened to schedule a visit when Kristin Hersh and Grant-Lee Phillips were in town. Of course that meant I had to break my not at all hard rule about seeing musicians from way back in my younger days. Bonus: My friend Jenn -- whom I had met in line while waiting to buy Jeff Tweedy tickets at the Fillmore, then ran into again months later at BOTH, where we were chatting for a good 20 or 30 minutes before we realized we had already met -- was there too!

If you read this blog regularly, you know I don't do a ton of research into gigs anymore. I buy the tickets, show up, and let the music work its magic. Based on the billing, I assumed this was a co-headlining tour, but didn't give much thought to how Kristin and Grant would share the stage. As it happened, we arrived mere minutes before Grant started his set, which was obviously good for us.

I've lost track of how many times I've seen Grant over the years, but it's been a while. To be frank, Largo grew and his audience did not. In addition, I heard that he's since moved out of the state, so he's less likely to drop in and hang out as he did back in the day.

What hasn't changed is his gorgeous, clear voice and the buoyant harmonies he favors. It was easy to get right back into his songs and his familiar banter. Unsurprisingly, he referenced the current political atmosphere and the songs he wrote in reaction to the 2016 election. His commentary wasn't heavy-handed, but even if it were, I wouldn't have minded. It's impossible to avoid, and I don't think you can underplay the disaster of this administration anyway. He also revisited the work of his old band with the magnificent "Mighty Joe Moon" and "Honey Don't Think," both of which remain transcendent.

Kristin Hersh was, in fact, the headliner and enjoyed a longer set than Grant. I have to admit I didn't listen to Throwing Muses during those years, despite their prestigious slot on the 4AD roster and the fact that Mori -- my dear friend and the biggest Anglophile I know -- actually liked them, American provenance and all. I don't have an explanation why, but hey, you can't listen to everything all the time. Now, of course, it's easier to see how she matched up against the songwriters of that time, and it's no mystery how she's stuck around all these years. Simply put, she has a distinct, original worldview and the craft to match it.

The ethereal Kristin Hersh at the Chapel, March 29, 2018

A post shared by pneyu (@pneyu) on Apr 6, 2018 at 2:19pm PDT

In their current incarnations, it can be hard to believe that Kristin and Grant arose from the same era and the same genre. Kristin addressed it herself in her opening remarks, where she contrasted Grant's happy, catchy songs with her heavier tracks. But listen in, and you'll hear an authentic record of modern life in their lyrics. And we're lucky to get to hear them over the years.

Seeing Kristin onstage, it hit me that she could be Gillian Welch's northern, hardscrabble cousin -- if you don't mind my mythologizing (and overlook the fact that Gillian grew up in Los Angeles with show-biz adoptive parents). I try not to fall into lazy generalizations, but again, give them a listen to their stories of lives lived away from the usual paths. You might hear it too.

Anyway, Kristin belied her sometimes unsettling songs with funny stories, including an interview she had done earlier that week with someone who she thought had clearly based their questions on her Wikipedia entry. She also shared a memory of driving away from her home in anger and encountering a man who was steering a snow tractor in circles. She concluded that he had probably done the same as her but had grabbed the other set of keys. And for those of us who like the hits, she did the peerless "Your Ghost."

Grant and Kristin concluded the show with a duet on one of her songs whose title escaped me, as well as some stories about their shared acquaintance. Their mutual friend John Doe came up in conversation, along with a mention of the days when VH1 actually showed their music videos. It's hard to believe these days, but it was all true for one glorious era.

See also:
» Take Me Home Country Pigeon
» i'm happy, hope you're happy too
» the shining hour

all around me a voice was sounding

Hey, look -- my first concert of 2018! Thanks to Dave Rawlings and company for the invite.

Dave Rawlings, the Fillmore, March 1, 2018

I'm officially at the point where I've seen Dave Rawlings and Gillian Welch so much that I can no longer recall who headlined at the latest show I attended. Of course, this comes with a couple of caveats: (1) That may be my middle-age senility setting in, and (2) A surfeit of Gill and Dave is a nice problem to have.

The latest Dave Rawlings record got me thinking about how much this band, outfit, arrangement, what have you has evolved over the years. After listening to so many spare, stripped Gillian Welch albums, as well as Dave's naturalistic works, you can hear the more modern production on Poor David's Almanack. "Cumberland Gap," in particular, jumps out at me -- the keyboard, especially. Dave and Gill trading verses sent my mind to Fleetwood Mac, though friends cited "Ohio" by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young.

This, in turn, led me to reflect on the growth of Dave Rawlings as a frontman. I imagine Dave played plenty of gigs around Nashville when he and Gill were starting out, but I don't think he truly embarked on his own until the last decade or so. I'll brag about this to my dying day, but I was extremely fortunate to have caught Dave and Gill so often when they played Largo regularly at both the old and new locations. Many of those gigs were under Dave's name, so I've been able to witness his act develop and his catalog grow.

Those Largo shows were special, but their visit to the Great American Music Hall on what was probably the first true tour under Dave's name also stands out. We were giddy that night, as San Francisco poured out its long-established love for Gillian Welch onto David. I can still feel the joy streaming from both the performers and the audience.

Obviously, there have been many shows between then and now, but as they took the stage this night, they seemed like a true band for the first time in my memory. The setup is still pretty sparse, with no drum kit or even amps, but heck, Gillian and violinist Brittany Haas wore dresses in matching fabric!

They opened with a rollicking "Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts" from Bob Dylan, and as you can imagine, the crowd ate it up. In my opinion, the first half of the show was oddly paced, partly because they don't exactly excel in onstage banter and partly due to song selection. They went with mostly tracks from the new record, but threw in Gill's "Wayside/Back in Time" for the local angle.

They took their usual intermission, and the pace seemed to pick up during the second half, though to their credit, I haven't shared much of their funnier moments. For example, Gill revealed to us that she had slashed her finger just before the show and was relying on glue to keep the bleeding at bay. Also, both Willie Watson and Gill worked a small set of bongo drums for separate songs, and Willie did a few tunes too.

"Miss Ohio" got its obligatory turn during the second set, but believe it or not, it wasn't the highlight. Instead, it was a song from Old Crow Medicine Show ("Hear Them All") married to the Woody Guthrie classic "This Land Is Your Land," and let me tell you -- it feels like we need that song more than ever these days. No one had to say anything else; our voices singing together did all the talking. Another fun moment from the second set: the aforementioned Brittany Haas trading in her violin for a guitar (on a song whose name I can't remember). Guess what? She was really good. Also, Dave at one point played electric guitar, which never happens at Gill's shows.

But they truly saved the best for last, as they tore through an encore sequence that included a Radiohead cover ("Black Star"), another Dylan cover ("Queen Jane Approximately"), and a Bright Eyes/Neil Young medley ("Method Acting"/"Cortez the Killer"). The last two songs were especially punishing, and for the umpteenth time, I marveled at how they wrench so much tension from that Dylan track. For the third and final encore, they went into a five-person version of "Go to Sleep You Little Baby" (a first for me), and we thought it was over -- but no! They brought back "Jack of Hearts" to bring it full circle.

Dave looked exhausted as they truly bade us good night, for good reason. I hope our cheers and applause let him know that we appreciated every ounce of sweat he poured out onstage.

And finally, one more memory of the night I'd like to share. See you again soon!

“The human rhythm section.” Great photo by @pneyu from 3rd encore at the Fillmore. . . #davidrawlings #gillianwelch #williewatson #didntleavenobodybutthebaby

A post shared by Gillian Welch (@gillianwelchofficial) on Mar 7, 2018 at 11:41am PST

See also:
» i remember standing by the wall
» that's all they really want
» hotter than a pepper sprout

sings a song sounds like she's singing

Last year was a drag (and worse) in most regards, but at least I was able to see it out with awesome tunes, courtesy of Lucius at the Independent.

Lucius, the Independent, December 31, 2017

I'm not the concertgoer I used to be, and often, I don't even see the bands that I've enjoyed on other occasions. For example, Lucius was fantastic at Solid Sound, but when they came around on tour, I didn't bite. Honestly, I might have opted out on the worst socializing night of the year if Paul weren't in town. Fortunately, he's never led me astray, and it turned out to be a fantastic evening.

Anyone who reads this blog knows I lean toward the earnest and acoustic, but one can't subsist on folk music alone. Even I need to mix it up now and again, and it's a bonus when musicians can blend solid foundational skills with a wink, a nod, and a beat you can dance to. You may first notice Lucius' glam looks with the blond wigs, dramatic makeup, and coordinated outfits. But give them a listen, and you can't deny that their voices are golden, especially in unison.

To that end, they took a different angle with each show of the New Year's triptych, with one all-acoustic night, one electric night, and one surprise night. I'm sure invested fans already knew the plan, but I didn't -- and was delighted to learn New Year's Eve would include lots of cover versions.

The band started the night with its own tunes, but as a uninformed casual observer, I can't tell you what they were. Paul told me one was "Dusty Trails," but I don't know if that was the a cappella track they performed from the middle of the dance floor, under the mirror ball, followed by the New Year's Eve countdown. In any case, they sounded amazing and made me think of how cool it must be to sound that good on your own, without any tricks or effects. What a gift!

The second half of the show was devoted to covers as suggested by fans on the internet (Twitter? Facebook? Instagram?). They started with "1999," and let me tell you, the song still works in 2017 going into 2018. It was all hits from there on out -- no obscure tracks from experimental 1970s albums by one-shot supergroups. Nope, we got all the fun songs from Stevie Nicks, the B-52s, Lips Inc., and more, with not even a whiff of, say, "Despacito."

As a Gen X-er, I was surprised by the song selection, perhaps moreso regarding the audience. You'd expect Lucius as musicians to know a wide range of artists and eras, but if these tunes were indeed suggested by the audience, you had to wonder if they were drawing from their parents' or babysitters' record collections. Yes, I know, music has no bounds now, thanks to the internet and pop culture in general, and I'm not complaining about hearing "Edge of Seventeen." Anyway, thanks millennials! It was the most unadulterated fun I've had at a concert in a while.

Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence opened, and it was my first time seeing them, despite living in San Francisco this long and even working with perhaps a junior member of the troupe! They were the perfect choice, and I could see how they helped set the foundation for gay rights and expression in the city, even if their skits spoke more of a past era. When they rejoined Lucius at the end of the show for the cover medley, you could certainly sense that their influence had indeed spread to artistic and curious young men and women all over the country.

See also:
» the boys are back in town

sorry charlie honey he's back from LA

On the fourth day of Christmas, my music gods gave to me two shows with Jeff Tweedy! Fa la la la la fa la la la!

Jeff Tweedy, Largo at the Coronet, December 28-29, 2017

When Jeff Tweedy first appeared at Largo in 2012, we didn't know what to expect. For his true debut performance at Largo in 2013, there was too much going on for me to fully take it in. This time, it felt like the culmination of -- gulp -- two decades of dedicated music fandom, as external forces had our backs twice over, and I couldn't be more grateful that it all came together. I can't truly put in words how much it means to me to see my two favorite musical artists ever at my favorite venue on the face of the earth within such a short window of time, but I'll give it a try.

To put it mildly, I've seen Jeff at many venues, though perhaps not at the same rate these days, and of course, Largo is a special spot for me, but I can say with confidence that Jeff puts on a different kind of show here. I mean, the music is always good, but his stories and banter are something else on that stage. Last time, he told a story about his meeting with a mohel, and I couldn't believe he started sharing it at other shows. This time, there was a tale of the family's vegan diet and, as a result, the inadequate supply of toilet paper at their expensive Airbnb, as well as extended banter on whether he wanted to be our friends in real life. (He mostly didn't.) I'm doing neither any justice, but they were great in execution.

My favorite bit of the night, however, may be Jeff's semi-confession during "California Stars" that when he asks us to take the melody, we're actually doing him a favor, as it livens the song for him when he sings the harmony. Among my friends, the song gets a mixed reception, but it was funny to hear Jeff somewhat admit to its shortcomings as well. It'd probably be cut out of Storytellers, though.

In between, he also asked for requests, then chose them based on who raised their hands, and complained about a squeaky seat in the audience not keeping the beat correctly. In fact, on the second night, as he ceded the stage to his sons, he approached the fellow in the guilty chair directly and placed an accusatory hand on his shoulder. My guess: That gentleman will never wash his shoulder again.

The other aspect of seeing Jeff at Largo: He sounds so good. Obviously, a lot of it has to do with the foundation of chords and melody he sets with every song, even the intricate "Impossible Germany," paired with his plaintive and endearing voice. Now imagine that in a small room where every note sinks in and the audience is deeply engaged to the point of almost holding our collective breath. In that regard, Largo is like no other, and I'm sure no one minded when Jeff forgot some lyrics and chords. (All's forgiven!)

Jeff debuted a couple of new songs, including a tune about Noah's flood where he asked us to sing along to the chorus. In terms of relative rarities, there was no way he'd skip "The Ruling Class" in Los Angeles, and we got a few requests with "Either Way" (which he confessed to not playing very often, but I love it so much) and both versions of "Outta Mind." As the shows were ostensibly promoting Together at Last, he hit several tracks on the record -- I especially appreciated "Lost Love," one of my favorite tunes Jeff has ever written. It's hard enough to encapsulate Jeff's career over four or five nights, much less two, so odds are good he left off some audience members' beloved titles. Nonetheless, the song selection ranged from Uncle Tupelo all the way to the most recent Wilco album. You can't blame him for trying.

The sweetest part of the shows was the family involvement. Jeff played "Bob Dylan's Beard" per Susan's request, though with his usual caustic aside (he suspected it was the only title she remembered). On the first night, a guy in the audience -- who also got a request for "Blasting Fonda" the second night -- asked for a Chris Bell song. After his typical smart-ass commentary, Jeff obliged by asking Sammy to take the vocals for "Thirteen." Both the song and the son charmed us. Night two, Sammy and Spencer played "Military Madness" as Jeff stepped offstage entirely. From our seat, we could hear Jeff softly singing along with his babies. You can't beat that scene.

Nick Offerman and Sarah Silverman opened for Jeff on respective nights. Nick's set was a shorter version of what he did at Solid Sound, and Sarah slightly tweaked her material from the previous week's Jon Brion show. I was particularly pleased to hear how well Sarah's set went over with the crowd. Also, because I'm strangely gifted (?) with this kind of thing, I can report Friday night was a comedy nerd's dream, as members of Superego, at least one Sklar brother, and Carrie Brownstein were in attendance -- and some guys named Andrew Bird and Jon Hamm too.

I don't expect Jeff to become a regular at Largo, and I won't even bring up that one addition that would make my head explode [HINT HINT]. All I know is that Largo once again saved the best for last and that I'm one of the luckiest people in the world to be able to attend.

See also:
» so flattered by fate
» every night is a test
» always hated normal american kids
» when we came here today
» a few of my favorite things

a few of my favorite things

Happy 2018! I have a pretty good feeling about this coming year, but if you don't mind, I need to step back in time for a few posts. I promise they'll be worth it, starting with Jon Brion's annual quasi-Christmas show at Largo at the Coronet.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 22, 2017

You know the drill. This has been my favorite musical event of the year for the last decade-plus, and 2017 was no different. In fact, I feel like I needed this one more than ever because even as the rest of the world has gone to shit, Largo has remained true. Stay gold, Ponyboy!

The calendar says I went to three Jon Brion shows this year, which is about my average nowadays. I can't speak of any ongoing trends at Largo, but the last two shows I've attended have featured an opening slot filled by a famous comedian -- sorta like the old days on Fairfax. Tonight, we got Sarah Silverman trying fresh material before our eyes. I'm not sure if I've actually seen Sarah's standup; perhaps I caught a set back at the smaller club, but I can't vouch for it. Anyway, she was fantastic onstage, even as she scanned from her notes to try to connect points she had jotted down. Her material was fresher than the cold-pressed juice for sale from the finer vendors on Santa Monica Avenue, and I'm curious to hear how she further refines her thoughts.

Jon was next, and my notes read "victimless amateur porn smile," which confused me at first, reading them two-plus weeks after the show. But in recounting Sarah's portion of the evening, I now realize it was a nod to a bit about her masturbation techniques and how they differ from the popular image perpetuated by mainstream porn. Whew, glad that's all cleared up!

Before I proceed, I should mention that Jon has a good array of instruments onstage, but not the full load, depending on which shows you've seen. That is, he had several guitars, a drum kit, a Leslie cabinet, a couple of microphones, a Korg synthesizer, a pedal steel set, and either a chamberlin or a mellotron (I don't know the difference). If you're curious, that meant no video screens or mixers and no vibes (as seen in previous Christmas shows); also, the usual jungle of chords when he's in heavy looping mode was absent.

Jon quickly fessed to having throat problems. He sounded fine while speaking and held it together well when he chose to sang -- but more details on that later. Instead, he threatened to stick to the lower range of Morrissey, Chet Baker, and Howlin' Wolf for his song selections.

His opening piano exercise somehow morphed into "Merry Fucking War on Christmas," according to my notes, but I can't offer more detail. However, I can say he delivered on his promised performers with a Smiths song, then a Chet Baker favorite. Alas, I don't think we got Howlin' Wolf as a follow-up.

In a further move to preserve his voice, Jon reached into a collection of records he had brought onstage and found an appropriate title. He settled on the DIY Psychoanalysis Kit and played some tunes over it, adding a beat, bass (via the synth), and piano. This again reminded me of the old place, as Scott in the sound booth would cue up an odd retro album and Jon would react as his whims took him. Somehow, this led into a Christmas song medley with all of your favorites. I'm old-fashioned in that I like when Jon's December shows incorporate a Christmas theme, so no complaints here.

Jon returned to the usual program with "Knock Yourself Out," then asked us for requests accompanied by a wish of his own: Sing along! We did the best we could with "Life on Mars," but not as much as with the next tune, "Bohemian Rhapsody." Fortunately, I seemed to be the only person in the room with no grasp of the song, as it was probably the best singalong I've ever heard at Largo. Granted, I've taken in plenty of good ones, but perhaps our seats in the third row (and not the usual first row) helped highlight the sound. As a nonparticipant, I was impressed.

Next came our first guest of the night: Fred Armisen, whom you may know from Saturday Night Live and Portlandia, among other showcases. After a little banter with Jon, he went to the drums and demonstrated how not to play them in a number of styles: jazz, reggae, Ringo, and Keith Moon. I'm doing no justice to his bit, except to say that we were soooooo close to hearing "Baba O'Riley" when he and Jon went in on the last segment.

Jon then switched to guitar and invited a man I didn't recognize to the stage to play bass with the combo. I believe his name was Steve; as you'll see, the lack of last names will be a theme of the night. Together, the trio tore into a bunch of instrumental tracks. I wish I could name the Dick Dale selection for you, but rest assured it wasn't "Wipeout." From there, "Sleepwalk" was a no-brainer, and we should've seen the "Peter Gunn Theme" coming.

Jon asked for more requests and chose the one from a guy sitting a couple of seats down from me: "Time of the Season." Of course, he asked for our participation, and we did the best we could, though it was no comparison to "Bohemian Rhapsody." The song was a nice reminder to me of the former crowd favorite -- not that it's fallen out of favor, only that it's been a while since I've heard anyone bring it up, and overall, it's a great feelgood track.

The second guest then emerged, and I can't tell you his last name to save my life. Nonetheless, Jon summoned Joel to the mic for a number of songs. He had a warm, expressive voice, and he seemed to favor relatively obscure Neil Young tracks. He also landed on "The Man Who Sold the World" and "Waterloo Sunset," the latter in a more traditional clip than we're used to hearing with Jon. Strangely, for two of the most familiar songs, "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" and "Cortez the Killer," Jon took the vocals and Joel didn't do a whole lot. I think he was searching his phone for lyrics to the former, but sort of wandered off-stage in the middle of the latter.

As you might've guessed, Jon handled "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" on piano, but switched to electric guitar for "Cortez the Killer." For the latter, he also asked Steve to return to the stage and invited up a new drummer: a woman named Page (Paige?), whom I believe to be his girlfriend. Don't ask me how I know this, and I have nothing else to share, but I might as well mention it. She did a great job, by the way.

Jon handled a jazzy piano segment by himself, then a mysterious hand slipped him a piece of paper. With that note, he asked Sia to join him onstage. I often boast of the stars I've seen onstage at Largo, but I know that most of them don't quite register with the average consumer. Of course, I'll always have my Kanye West and Michel Gondry sightings, but a bonafide pop star hasn't been around in a while. Sia qualifies as such a star.

She also had the quote of the evening: "I've been sober for seven years, but I feel like I took a lot of acid tonight." That should give you an idea of how terribly sober my account is and how I manage to take the fun out of everything.

They started with her own "Snowman," from her current collection of Christmas songs, then took requests from the audience. First up was "Silent Night," and we mostly failed when we hit the second verse. Sia theatrically shrugged away her shortcomings with the lyrics, but gamely carried on. Her third and last song was also a request from the audience, and this time she willingly ceded the stage and the microphone to a couple who joined her from the first row. The young man had a great command of the lyrics and exuded confidence, even looking back at Jon a few times to urge him to keep pace with his cadence. Too bad we can't say the same for his actual singing (in)ability. But oh, that stage presence! The pros onstage couldn't have been more gracious and welcoming to him.

(Being a good digital citizen/snoop, after the show, I tried to find a professional connection between Jon and Sia, but turned up nothing. If you happen to know how they're linked, please send me a note. But honestly, how have these two musical geniuses not worked together before?? Anyway, it doesn't matter because it happened and I got to see them with my own eyes.)

Jon cleansed the palate with his own combo of "Punch-Drunk Melody" and "Strings That Tie to You" before bringing Fred back for a few. At first, he asked if Fred knew any Christmas songs, and Fred replied that Christmas made him think of the Clash. Thus, Fred (on electric guitar) launched into "Train in Vain" with the aforementioned Steve on bass and Jon on drums, then piano. In fact, for a spell, both Fred and Steve watched Jon mess with the piano strings, even as they played along. The jazz combo also tried to cobble together a freeform Christmas song -- something about "I hate Christmas and every holiday."

To close out, Jon asked for audience and band participation to narrow down his selection. Together, we chose medium and old, and Jon obliged with "Whiter Shade of Pale." I can't tell you how Jon comes to these decisions, but somehow his choices make a ton of sense.

And for the capper, Jon figured he might as well blow out what was left of his vocal chords, as he paired Dylan and Waits for "Positively Fourth Street" -- because he can. As you can imagine, we weren't invited to the Little Room for the aftershow this evening, but we could hardly ask for more.

Setlist
Sarah Silverman opener

-- piano
-- Merry Fucking War on Christmas
-- Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now
-- Everything Happens to Me
-- Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas/Jingle Bells/White Christmas/Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy
-- Knock Yourself Out
-- Life on Mars
-- Bohemian Rhapsody
-- "how not to play drums" *
-- Dick Dale song/Sleepwalk/Peter Gunn Theme/Secret Agent Man *
-- Time of the Season
-- Birds **
-- Man Who Sold the World **
-- Waterloo Sunset **
-- I Believe in You **
-- Only Love Can Break Your Heart **
-- Cortez the Killer **
-- piano
-- Snowman ***
-- Silent Night ***
-- My Favorite Things ***
-- Punch Drunk Melody
-- Strings That Tie to You
-- Train in Vain ****
-- freeform Christmas song ****
-- Whiter Shade of Pale ****
-- Positively 4th Street

* = with Fred Armisen
** = with Joel
*** = with Sia
**** = with Fred Armisen and band

Ghosts of Christmas past:
» let your heart be light
» i'm offering this simple phrase
» it's been said many times, many ways
» with soul power
» it's the end of the things you know
» you could say one recovers
» a really good time
» the things you do to keep yourself intact
» i've heard a rumor from ground control
» strangest times
» i'll be a rock 'n' rolling bitch for you
» purple rain