man of the world

The great Oscar Wilde once said, “Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.” But guess what? Consistency also means you make friends in interesting places and occasionally reap the rewards of faithful patronage. Case in point: The last Jon Brion show of not only the year, but the decade.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 20, 2019

A couple of days before this show, Largo posted via its Instagram and Twitter accounts that Jon would welcome a special guest at this show. I registered the note but didn't think much of it. After all, I've been to enough of them to know that the guest could be just about anyone, and I come to see Jon. Everyone else is butter.

But not long after we arrived, we ran into another Largo regular, and she revealed the mystery. Neil Finn would be the guest tonight. You can't necessarily tell from this blog, but Neil is a longtime beloved performer. I was already a fan of Largo, but when I heard that Neil was starting to drop in for Jon's sets, I chalked up yet another reason to visit Los Angeles. My wish finally came true in 2004, when Neil guested at a Jon Brion show. I pretty much died that night, and fortunately, I managed to document the experience. Neil has continued to support Largo (and vice versa), but to be able to see him as an unannounced guest is a special treat.

But first, Jon's show! The stage was well stocked with the two video screens, a full drum kit, a mess of guitars, a Mellotron, and a Leslie cabinet.

Flanagan and Bobb Bruno emerged together -- Flanny looking like a young Kris Kringle from the Rankin-Bass Christmas classics, and Bobb offering silent moral support. Flanagan ran down a list of Jon's recent ailments (arm, leg, head), then brought the patient to the stage. For what it's worth, Jon looked fine, decked in a classic vintage outfit and carrying a pint of Guinness. So far, so good.

He started with a piano tune that's probably an actual composition and not simply noodling, but once again, I have to shrug because I rarely recognize any of the jazz standards. Fortunately, he soon went in on a couple of his own compositions. "Knock Yourself Out" was a mostly traditional interpretation on piano, and "Over Our Heads" was also fairly traditional (for Jon), with a vocoder and sampled feedback from inside the piano.

He asked for requests and decided on a mashup of "Moonage Daydream" in the Christmas style. The celeste mostly supplied the holiday effect, bringing to mind "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" at times. Not missing a beat, Jon continued to mess around on the EMS Synthi until he eventually coaxed out "Ashes to Ashes." Once again, the celeste came through for a tiny sprinkle of "Jingle Bells" amid the electronic angst.

With little fanfare, Jon yelled backstage and asked Neil if he felt like singing. Neil joined us posthaste, but he wasn't alone. Largo regular Sebastian Steinberg joined him, and what do you know? So did Mick Fleetwood! Yes, that Mick Fleetwood from that band that Neil has been touring with for the last year-plus. For those keeping score at home, yes, this was Mick's first appearance at Largo, and he made a hell of a debut.

They went immediately into one of Neil's classics, "I Got You." Neil managed to hit the mute pedal just as he was about to rock out, but no worries -- the bigger story was the fact that Mick was playing the shit out of the drums. You can take the rocker out of the stadium, but you can't take the stadium out of the rocker! They followed up with an old Peter Green song, for those who remember the pre-Buckingham Nicks era of Fleetwood Mac. Neil's voice remains one of my favorites, and he didn't disappoint this evening.

Neil left the stage, but Mick and Sebastian stayed to join Jon as an impromptu jazz combo. This happens at Largo a lot, as new acquaintances become partners and collaborators in real time. Once more, I'm completely useless when it comes to identifying the song or even the artists. The first one was rollicking as each musician settled into a groove. Jon was rocking in his seat, pulling the piano bench back and forth as he moved to the tune. Sebastian was an old pro, his focus evident as a longtime Largo fixture. The second song had a Jerry Lee Lewis vibe, and the third one was more languid at first. My stab in the dark is Fats Domino, but I'm sure that's way off. After the show, Flanny mentioned that one of the tunes was from Thelonious Monk, but I'd be hard-pressed to figure out which it was.

Mick, for his part, looked hugely invested as he worked the entire drum kit, his long arms hitting every inch of the drum kit. I loved watching him as he watched Jon for musical cues and perhaps more -- maybe to express his approval? Like I said, I've seen that look before, and it's a huge tell when world-renowned artists are clearly so happy to be in the Largo environment.

Here's a funny aside: It looked like Mick brought his own tech to the show. A man hung to the side of the stage and intently watched his every move. I believe he also collected Mick's drumsticks after every session.

Jon settled in alone for his "Please Stay Away From Me" and fired up the video machines and footage of Andres Segovia for "Strings That Tie to You," capped by an instrumental nod to "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." (No, I don't always need to hear the lyrics!)

But the solo spell was short-lived, as Jon brought Neil back out, this time accompanied by Liam Finn (to audible gasps from Evonne and me). Mick and Sebastian soon followed, and they settled into a Neil Young rock block. The first title, "After the Gold Rush," fell apart a little on the second verse, even though an audience member tried to help.

When they couldn't immediately figure out what to do as the second track, Jon took the lead to bring on "Only Love Will Break Your Heart," which was a lot kinder to everyone involved. It was pretty clear that Jon wasn't really in the mood for singing that night (perhaps related to the afflictions Flanny mentioned?), so it was a good thing that Neil was ready to man the mics. They finished up the Neil-on-Neil set (album idea!) with "Southern Man."

Neil asked for requests and finally opted for Crowded House songs, starting with "Chocolate Cake," where Neil and Liam's complementary vocals jumped out. For "Private Universe," Liam moved to percussion, where he and Mick went with the double drummer setup that I love so much (see: early Adam and the Ants records) to great effect.

They came to a short impasse as Neil confessed he couldn't remember the old classics he and Jon have done so much at their combo shows. From the front row, I offered "Moon River," and Neil obliged. As someone who's attended several of their shows together and listened to numerous bootlegs, I can do this all day, but I was more than happy that they took up the one request.

To close Neil's portion of the show, Jon suggested "Four Seasons in One Day," and for his part, he played at first the Mellotron, then switched back to the piano for a sublime bridge on this always lovely song.

For the capper, Jon at first tickled some keys, and my heart skipped because I recognized it as Elliott Smith's "Happiness," which probably would've made me cry in my seat. But instead, he fired up the beat machine and opted for another favorite. With Sebastian Steinberg and Paul Cartwright, they coaxed out "More Than This." I will never object to it.

And he threw in a few notes of "Jingle Bells" on celeste for good measure. Happy holidays and have yourself a great new decade!

Setlist
Flanny and Bobb Bruno intro

-- piano
-- Knock Yourself Out
-- Over Our Heads
-- Christmas Moonage Daydream
-- Ashes to Ashes

w/ Neil Finn, Mick Fleetwood, and Sebastian Steinberg
-- I Got You
-- Man of the World

w/ Mick Fleetwood, and Sebastian Steinberg
-- mystery song 1
-- mystery song 2
-- mystery song 3

-- Please Stay Away from Me
-- Strings That Tie to You/Somewhere Over the Rainbow

w/ Neil Finn, Liam Finn, Mick Fleetwood, and Sebastian Steinberg
-- After the Gold Rush
-- Only Love Will Break Your Heart
-- Southern Man
-- Chocolate Cake
-- Private Universe
-- Moon River
-- Four Seasons in One Day
-- Moon River

-- More Than This

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
» a few of my favorite things
» on such a winter's day

you shouldn't be faint about it

Amid all the holiday season hubbub, I almost forgot we had a Friday the 13th in December this year. What better way to tempt fate than with Robyn Hitchcock's return to Largo at the Coronet?

Robyn Hitchcock, Largo at the Coronet, December 13, 2019

No surprise that I decided to attend this show on the promise of the "Robyn and Friends" billing. Though I try to temper my expectations, I hold out hope that a beloved figure or two will show up. Stay tuned to see if they do.

Robyn emerged in a flowery shirt on a minimalist stage, though the three mic stands hinted at the personnel to come. He explained that the show would be broken up into two segments separated by a brief intermission. He said a whole lot more, to be honest, but I can't remember the sequence or most of the banter. I'll try to cover some of it later, but for now, I can report that he went straightaway into "Balloon Man," perhaps his most notable stateside hit. In fact, he played a bunch of Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians songs during this performance, perhaps in preparation for the upcoming performance of Eye at the Chapel in San Francisco for his birthday in March. Who can blame him? It's a landmark record with some of his greatest songs, and we want to hear it.

Not long ago, I realized that Robyn may be the through line connecting much of the American music I love the most: Wilco, Gillian Welch, Grant Lee Phillips, and Jon Brion, to name a few. (In fact, he opened three shows with Wilco in Chicago shortly after the Largo date.) A little internet research turns up a reasonable explanation: He was a huge influence on REM, and in return, they championed him among their fans at their peak popularity, not only playing on his records but also touring with him. It's no stretch to imagine that the young musicians listening to REM would turn their ears to Robyn as well.

I mention this because I think it helps explain my evolution as a Robyn fan. Granted, Robyn has a ton of die-hard fans who can recite his discography backward and forward. I'm not one of them, but I've come to fully appreciate his influence on at least one corner of the American indie landscape. Even during my Anglophile years, his music required a greater intellectual investment than the shiny pop hits of the day, though they often had incredible hooks and melodies. A friend once told me that I'll get Dylan when the time is right. (This has yet to happen.) I guess the time has arrived for me and Robyn, now that I've seen him in concert umpteen times.

Robyn talked a lot during the show, though I can't say if it was more or less than usual. The banter that stuck out the most was all geography based, as he shared his experiences living in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York, while growing more distant from England. He had a great bit about being in school with Brian Eno, in the same way that he was in England at the same time as Winston Churchill. That is, their schedules happened to coincide. Any true connection was imaginary.

Unsurprisingly, the sublime "Madonna of the Wasps" was a highlight of the show and reminded me that I had caught Robyn's birthday tribute at the Fillmore a few years back. Drawing from that cast, Eric Johnson of the Fruit Bats joined Robyn and Emma Swift for a couple of songs ("Trams of Old London," "Ole Tarantula") to end the main set. I'm not sure if Eric has played Largo before, but it's always a please to see another artist join the fold.

Robyn took to the piano for the encore, banging out three of his biggest influences: Pink Floyd, Bob Dylan, and John Lennon. I'm forever a fan of the Lennon track ("God"). Robyn went entirely traditional on the tune, not ad-libbing any lyrics. As much as Robyn likes to chit chat, this show might've been one of the better spotlights on his music I've seen in a while. My appreciation has only deepened. Until next time (and there certainly will be a next time)!

See also:
» i was a new york doll

just what i needed

It took a while, but I finally pulled the trigger on a SoCal trip to see my favorites. As it turned out, it wasn't a bad time at all to see Jon Brion at Largo at the Coronet.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, October 25, 2019

I've actually been in SoCal for a bunch of things this year, but strangely, none has been a Jon Brion show. On a relatively late whim, I decided to pull the trigger and come back to my home away from home.

Of course, I have no idea if Jon's favored the spare or the loaded stage recently, but tonight's setup was stark: all of four guitars and a couple of keyboards. I'm up for all of it, but I have to admit I'm a little relieved some times when the video screens aren't up. I appreciate the glimpse they give us into Jon's creative process, but mostly I want to hear the magic delivered directly from his touch.

Per usual, Flanny introduced Jon, but in his stead, Zach Galifianakis emerged from the side entrance, walked across the stage without a word, and sat down at the piano, where he played freeform for a minute or two. Jon showed up soon after and tapped him on the shoulder. With about equal fuss, he left the stage. Jon picked up where the guest left off, but Zach made one final appearance, as he silently walked across the back of the stage, fixated on his phone, looked up, did a double take, abruptly realized we were watching, and scurried back offstage. It was lovely to see him back.

Jon immediately asked for requests after his warm-up and went with "Here We Go," which -- in case I haven't mentioned it lately -- is a perfect song. I got in the second request for "That's Just What You Are," my typical classic callback. In fact, I thought a lot about my requests for the evening, but you can hear more about them later.

My muscle memory with Jon Brion concerts is nowhere near its peak levels. Though I made a point to put a notebook and a pen in my bag, the pen soon started running out of ink. I managed to scribble spare notes, but had to skip the details to spare what little ink I had at my disposal.

From there, Jon broke into another instrumental piano break before coming back to "Over Our Heads," using one of the small keyboards that always comprise his setup. He followed up with what sounded to me like two distinct piano pieces: one jazzy, the other sweeping and more linear. Alas, that's all I can tell you about them.

Jon then asked us to name a key, a style, and a song. It was kind of a Dr. Frankenstein moment, if you will. I love these mashups, and I was happy to see Jon flexing his unique genius. First up was F sharp minor (I think) plus the Velvet Underground (my request) plus "How Soon Is Now." As Jon commenced, I started to wonder if the Smiths song was already an homage to the Velvets? You can kinda hear it, right? It didn't really matter, as Jon decided to mimic Nico's vocals -- to not great effect, as he admitted -- instead.

The second song combined G plus prog rock (Jon promised the song would go for 35 minutes) plus "Monster Mash." I love this for many reasons, particularly because I've been requesting "Bela Lugosi's Dead" (with no success) whenever I'm in town for a show close to Halloween. I'm all for Jon giving in to seasonal cues, and "Monster Mash" should happen more often. Jon cut it off before it came anywhere close to double digits in length, but he delivered on the other prog rock signifiers, including lots of reverb and flashing lights, courtesy of the magical elves in the sound booth.

He next turned on a drum machine, which provided an easy lilting beat. I want to call it bossa nova, but that's probably not right. Just imagine a pleasing, swaying beat. Jon proceeded to build up a song from it, and what do you know? It was one of his own classics, "Same Thing." Jon is known for recasting his songs left and right, but it was a reminder that no song is sacred, and every single one can be reinterpreted, remade, and reworked. Honestly, it's a song! And if a remake bothers you, you can probably still listen to the original!

Jon finally moved to the guitars and took a request for "I Just Wasn't Made for These Times," with a helpful reminder from the requesting audience member on the lyrics. Jon did the rest. He stayed with the guitar for the Billie Holiday standard and for his own "Why Do You Do This to Yourself." The latter featured a ton of fuzz guitar, and in my humble opinion, his voice sounded particularly great on that track.

It was back to the piano for a long, jazzy, gorgeous tune. Such is my lack of knowledge that I searched my brain for what it could've been, and the only song that my mind latched on to was "Rhapsody in Blue," though I knew it wasn't right. Fortunately, Jon said so himself at the end. It was "Mood Indigo" -- so at least I was in the right color family? It was indeed rapturous, and I wish my brain could retain these things more effectively.

We rounded out the rest of the night with requests, and I gotta say that the audience did well here. I can be a music snob, and one of my complaints about this iteration in Jon's shows is that the requests can often be banal. (Please stop with "Freebird.") But the relatively intimate crowd at this night's show brought some good ones, at one point inspiring Jon to remark that he and another audience member should form a Dizzy Gillespie tribute band.

My favorite request, though, was more populist: "Jump" by Van Halen. I had actually requested it earlier that evening, but either Jon hadn't heard or it wasn't the right time. Still, I'm glad it came out, even if it quickly became apparent that none of us knew the words other than the chorus. Jon ran with it and segued into a synth-heavy version of "Running with the Devil," which moved him to say it reminded him of Avalon -- and he even did a line or two in a Bryan Ferry inflection! Happy Halloween to all!

Jon closed out the main set with a request, and it was lovelier than I could've imagined. "Just What I Needed" is a relative staple of Jon's set, particularly as a celebratory singalong. But this time, Jon took the opportunity to remind us that it's a great piece of songwriting, and though he didn't say it, he offered us a chance to remember the late Ric Ocasek. I'm not going to look into it too much, but it's probably not a stretch to imagine Jon has some links to Ric since both have ties to Boston (the city, not the band -- that I know of). Tonight, Jon turned it into a warm piano ballad that tore into your heart, while still allowing us to nail the chorus. See what I mean about songs not being sacred?

Jon returned for an encore and listened to our requests for a long time as he decided on the perfect closer. He wanted to end on a happy note as a contrast to what he considered a moody show. (I disagree.) He shot down "Hey Jude" because he said we only knew two words, and we eventually went with "God Only Knows," the perennial Largo favorite. I have no complaints -- the room sounded great, and it felt like a group hug in a way I can't recall feeling at Largo in a little while. As Jon knew, it was a perfect choice and the perfect send-off.

See you again in December.

- Zach Galifianakis cameo
- Here We Go
- That's Just What You Are
- piano
- Over Our Heads
- jazzy piano
- sweeping piano
- How Soon Is Now
- Monster Mash
- Same Thing
- I Just Wasn't Made for These Times
- Fooling Myself
- Why Do You Do This to Yourself
- Mood Indigo
- Highway to Hell/Back in Black
- Sesame Street
- Spinning Wheel
- Jump/Running with the Devil
- Just What I Needed

encore
- God Only Knows

poetry and magic

Does anyone blog anymore? For now, yes, so here's what I saw while in New York for Wilco at Brooklyn Steel.

Wilco, Brooklyn Steel, October 13, 2019

I've actually been to a show or two since my last post, but I don't want to write about them. Also, a lot of baseball happened this summer, and there was a big vacation. But back in June, when tickets to this show went on sale, I knew it was the perfect storm of schedule, venue, and location. I may not be as prolific a rock tourist anymore, but I know a good opportunity when I see it.

Wilco played Radio City Music Hall the night before, but that was also a no-brainer. I skipped that one, without a moment of consideration. In my experience, the big, hallowed, historic halls don't do it for me. Give me a general admission venue like Brooklyn Steel every time. Also, as a seasoned rock tourist, I'm acutely aware of the rule about second shows (they're almost always better than the first).

Back in the day, I saw a lot of shows in New York City, some of which were the most memorable of my life. On many of these trips, I was able to not only visit but crash with my best friend. This trip was no different, and also like back in the day, I was dragging her along to this gig. (As a reborn music nerd, she acquiesced.) In fact, as we stood outside the theater after seeing Mean Girls (the musical), we realized that not only were we at the site of her old office building, Paul and I had met there 17 years ago when he sold me his extra ticket to Wilco's show at the late, great Roseland. Time is a flat circle!

Anyway, the good news is that Brooklyn Steel is a lot cooler than what I recall of Roseland. The stage isn't a million miles high, and the front feels quite comfortable. I'm told Wilco couldn't bring its ornate stage decor to this club, and I'm OK with that. In fact, it looked like there was barely enough room to hold Wilco's pedals, effects, and equipment. I think this is the first time I've seen Glenn's face at a show in a long time!



Obviously, Wilco has a new album out, Ode to Joy. Such is the retail music market these days that I didn't have a chance to buy the album until the day before the show, and even that was a digital download. And yes, I still buy music, as opposed to listening to it on Spotify or whatever. In all, I probably listened to the record twice before the show and came to the show with almost no expectations.

One of the biggest takeaways from both the record and the show was Glenn's role. On stage, he had new implements that you'll likely never see with any other rock musician. His touch is all over the album, and it was a blast to see him translate it to the live show. I have no idea if those nuances carried to the farther corners of the room, but up front, you could hone in on the latest effect while watching Glenn work his latest contraption.

The standout new track for me was "Hold Me Anyway," reminding me a tiny bit of "Outta Mind (Outta Sight)" -- probably due to the sleigh bells. To me, one of the most prominent aspects of Jeff Tweedy's evolution as a songwriter is a fixation on death. Which is understandable! And darker lyrics have never deterred me, but my favorites tend to marry them to a jaunty tune. "Hold Me Anyway" is a textbook example of this combination.

The more amusing asides of the show include shout-outs to Paul (as the star of the delightful music video for "Everybody Hides"), Doreen (for her Gudetama phone case), and the kid who yelled out, "Schmilco!" To his credit, he wore a Schmilco shirt, so he was definitely walking the walk as well.

Paul contends we got the better setlist in Brooklyn, which is no surprise. Anyone could tell you they'd do the "hits" at Radio City. In essence, this meant we got deep cuts like "Hummingbird," where the audience sang along quite nicely, and "You and I." I remarked to Paul that I was surprised this was back in the rotation, but as it turns out, it's not really the case. I just happened to be at the only shows where they've done it recently (the other one being Solid Sound). They rounded out the set with the now irreplaceable "Impossible Germany," "Laminated Cat," and the Being There rockers. As a fan, I had no objections to their choices.

The kind of Wilco dates I like are less accessible for me, but I'll always jump on the chance to hit one of these types of shows. It capped off a fun early autumn weekend in New York City that I hope I can do again soon.

See also:
» catch the moon like a bird in a cage
» come with me

come with me

According to this blog, I last saw Wilco two years ago at -- drumroll, please -- Solid Sound. As I recall, we knew Wilco was going on a break after the festival, but I'm not sure we expected to wait a couple of years to see the band again. You can imagine how gratifying it was to realize that the festival was not only Wilco's return but also a reintroduction and unofficial launch of their new record, coming this fall.

Solid Sound Festival, June 28-30, 2019

In fact, there was a listening party for the new record in one of the exhibit halls in the museum over the weekend, but I didn't make it there. Actually, I didn't make it to most of the engagements at the festival. I admit to becoming jaded about MASS MoCA. Can you blame me? This was my seventh trip to the site. Also, our group of friends had grown more lackadaisical about arrival times, now that we no longer stay in town. But in the end, I was the schmuck who wandered down to the field and grabbed a spot where I could find one at the barrier. Fortunately, the crowds weren't oppressive, and group traded shifts, so we were able to maintain a presence without much stress. We did fine for the main stage, but at least for me, I sacrificed the supplemental festival acts.

On Friday, that meant I finally got to check out Courtney Barnett. It's no secret that (1) I'm a venue snob, (2) I've become incredibly lazy about seeing shows in recent years, and (3) I'm simply not as informed on new acts as before. Thus, despite many friends' recommendations, I've regretfully missed all of Courtney Barnett's shows in the Bay Area, and at this point, she may have grown out of the clubs I prefer. Thankfully, Wilco helped right that wrong.

Not that I can say much new about Courtney at this point. She was fab and fun and cheeky enough to throw a few classic rock poses while playing her indie rock tunes. The crowd near the front seemed sufficiently supportive, and a good singalong broke out to what I think was "Depreston." A tiny part of me hoped that she'd do her cover of Gillian Welch's "Everything Is Free," but a person can hope for only so much at her favorite band's festival. I was overdue to become a fan, and this show clinched it.

On Saturday, I managed to wander off to see Ohmme in one of the courtyards. Of course, I've seen Sima Cunningham on tour with Tweedy, but odds are low that her band will make it to the West Coast soon. I had to take this opportunity while I could. I was pleased to see they're a rocking combo, with both ladies on guitars. Sima's sweet vocals are apparent with Tweedy, but she and Macie Stewart kick out the jams with punk energy. They also covered the B-52's "Give Me Back My Man," which I'm old enough to -- er, never mind. I'd gladly see them play out here, and I hope they can book a date or two in town in the near future.

Saturday also brought both heat and rain. Because of the former, I chose to skip the Minus 5 in Courtyard D, but I've been fortunate enough to have seen various incarnations of the band a jillion times. Still, it would've been nice to see Scott McCaughey in his continuing recovery (though he made an appearance on the main stage on Sunday). Because of the latter, the schedule was slightly trimmed on the main field so that only Cate Le Bon and the Feelies played before Wilco.

Cate Le Bon was a mixed bag for me. About half of her songs were instantly appealing (for what it's worth), while others were perhaps a little too esoteric when you're standing in a field. In a different setting (say, Cafe du Nord), I might've been able to better appreciate the nuances.

However, Jeff did join the band for a couple of songs: "Strangers," the Kinks cover that Jeff occasionally rolls out, and "I Couldn't Say It to Your Face" by Arthur Russell. (I don't actually know the latter, so you can thank Paul for that info.) Jeff and Cate don't seem like a natural pairing, but that's one of the pleasures of self-curated festivals. You get a view into the entirety of a band's interests and influences. It's not so surprising to learn that Jeff enjoys and shares influences with British art folksters.

It goes without saying that the Feelies are American indie rock pioneers, and it was immediately apparent from the first notes of their set. I instantly recognized the guitar style that influenced about half the bands I heard tuning in to KSJS as a teenager. I love masterful production as much as the next person, but that spare, unsullied sound will always get my attention. Jeff also joined the Feelies onstage, this time for Neil Young's "Don't Cry No Tears." (You can thank Paul for that info as well.)



Sunday brought the most emphatic storm warning of the weekend. We didn't arrive at the museum until past noon, so we didn't have to evacuate the open areas and take cover in the museum halls to avoid the thunder. (However, we did end up sheltering and eating BBQ in the car until the festival staff gave everyone the green light.)

Jonathan Richman was the sole opener on the main stage. He too is a Solid Sound repeat performer and a longtime Wilco favorite. Several members of the Wilco entourage took in his set, even singing along to his tunes. Jonathan pulled out his signature moves, tunes, and musings for an appreciative crowd. I think we were more surprised by his trusty drummer Tommy, who sported a more rugged and rockier look than I recall. Their light, breezy set was a nice intro on this closing day.

Now for the Wilco content! Friday has always been the looser Wilco set. In previous years, we've enjoyed the all-covers show, and last time, the band did a couple of albums in their entirety. This year, we watched Wilco karaoke. Personally, I'm open to these one-offs, and on the whole, the singers did well, even if a few needed a bit of direction from Jeff. I counted at most two clunkers, and a number of the guests were likely in bar bands or had their own YouTube channels. Our group seemed to agree that Bailey from South Bend, Indiana, took top honors with her plaintive but soulful rendition of "True Love Will Find You in the End."

It was no secret that Wilco would bring in a ringer or two among the karaoke performers. The first one was Yuka Honda and a friend, who did a song off Schmilco. Truth be told, they didn't know all the lyrics, and I suspect their appearance was more to show off a rudimentary dance routine than to perform the song. I appreciated the spirit of their performance, if not the execution.

The second ringer turned out to be Sammy Tweedy for "I'm Always in Love," and he sounded great. Two years ago, we saw him sing with Tweedy on a Graham Nash song, but now he took on one of his father's tunes. I couldn't help but think of previous shows where Jeff told stories of Sammy falling asleep at gigs or asking to go home to play video games. It must be so satisfying for his loved ones to see him make his own path into the family tradition.

Last but not least, Courtney Barnett joined the band for "Handshake Drugs." Much like the other singers, she infused the song with her signature vocal style as opposed to Jeff's familiar tone. Jeff himself seemed delighted, especially when she and Nels faced off for that long guitar coda. It was a barrel of fun all around.

Wilco finished out the set in continuation of the karaoke theme; that is, they continued to project the (sometimes incorrect) lyrics behind the band. Kudos to the designer for pairing "Outta Mind (Outta Sight)" -- aka the version featuring sleigh bells -- with a snowflake pattern, and we got one more professional appearance when the ladies from Ohmme and Liam Kazar (also from the Tweedy band) emerged for "California Stars." You'll have no problem finding complaints about the premise of the set, but I'm more than willing to give Wilco the benefit of the doubt when they're trying something new at their own festival.

Wilco usually reserves its more traditional set for Saturday night, when the crowd is at its fullest. Though the band doesn't exactly have hits, repeat concertgoers recognize the more fan-favorite sets and those featuring deeper cuts. Having not seen the band for two years, I couldn't glibly characterize the set. They didn't repeat any songs from Friday night, and they mixed up the tunes with selections from across the band discography. I'm always happy to hear "Laminated Cat," especially because it feels like Wilco is reclaiming the song and not propping up the silos that sometimes exist between Jeff's many projects and writing credits.

Wilco also did a couple of new songs, and I'm not sure how to feel about them yet. Instead, I'll wait to listen to them more attentively when the new record comes out.

The festival closed on Sunday with Jeff's set. If you want to put a label on it, you might call it an extension of his solo tour from the last couple of years, and it started as such with several songs from Warm. But they soon veered into Tweedy territory, and not long after, I realized the new-sounding tunes were from Warmer, not officially released yet.

The set was billed as "Jeff Tweedy and Friends," and those friends indeed arrived, ranging from Josh Kantor (from the Baseball Project and the Boston Red Sox organist) to Amelia from Sylvan Esso to Ohmme to Scott McCaughey to Sammy Tweedy to, of course, Wilco. One of the surprises of the set was "It Must Be Love," which I mostly know as a Madness cover, but as a matter of fact, its roots go further back. Per Solid Sound tradition, they all joined in for "Give Back the Key to My Heart" and "I Shall Be Released." The two songs together were like an extended group hug.



Solid Sound both goes too fast and comes too slowly, but as long as Wilco is willing to do this, so am I. See you next time!

See also:
» Solid Sound 2017: when we came here today
» Solid Sound 2015: the whole love
» Solid Sound 2013: the boys are back in town
» Solid Sound 2011: you can tell that i'm not lying
» Solid Sound 2010: trees held us in on all four sides

set a course that i don't know

Whew, how late and wholly unnecessary is this post? But I haven't abandoned this blog, dammit, so here are my notes on Teenage Fanclub at the Fillmore as part of Noise Pop.

Teenage Fanclub, the Fillmore, February 25, 2019: Thanks to whatever is happening in the music industry these days, I bought my ticket to this show probably five or six months in advance of the performance. I felt pretty silly about it at the time, knowing full well that my beloved Teenage Fanclub would not sell out the Fillmore. Heck, the last time they came to town, they had to move the gig to the Great American Music Hall, likely due to sales. But as a bona fide early freak, I figure it didn't hurt to vote with my consumer dollars, early and often.

The crowd actually filled out respectably -- not bad for a drizzly Monday night. I suspect the Noise Pop tie-in and promotion helped, but it was still nice to see so many lovely faces (including some younger ones) at the show.

The bigger source of trepidation came after buying my ticket: The band's announcement that Gerry Love would no longer tour with them. I adore Teenage Fanclub as a group, but if you forced me to pick whose tunes I love the most, I would make a long speech about the whole outweighing the sum of its parts ... then eventually choose Gerry as the driving force behind my favorite tunes. It's not an easy call, but I know that more than a few times, I'd hear a Teenage Fanclub song, reflect on its brilliance, and realize that Gerry wrote it. Here's an experiment: Listen to Grand Prix and try to imagine it without Gerry's contributions. Not a fun thought, is it?



But now having seen the retooled band, I have to admit that there may be a bright side to the new configuration. Teenage Fanclub has released so many albums, and the fans have so many favorite deep cuts, that inevitably, we can always name a song or two that we wish they had played but couldn't accommodate at the show. But now, Norman and Raymond have much more opportunity to dig into their catalog. For example, I can't remember when I last heard "Catholic Education" or "The Cabbage." And though it'd be irresponsible to guess at whether or not they missed Gerry's presence, both Norman and Raymond appeared to be in fine spirits all evening.

But never fear, they hit us with many of their classics, including the perennial opener "About You" (speaking of Grand Prix), "The Concept," and many more. I was particularly pleased to hear "Your Love Is the Place Where I Came From." Paul recently reminded me that Nick Hornby championed the tune in Songbook, but I swear that I loved it regardless. It really is a perfect encapsulation of Raymond's hangdog appeal wrapped up in a subtle, earnest number.

In addition, they played at least one new track from their recent recording session, again minus Gerry. To my surprise, it was fairly rocking -- maybe influenced by the recording environment in Hamburg, Germany. Who am I kidding? If they come back to the United States to tour that record, of course I'll grab a ticket.

One more recollection from the evening: As "Everything Flow" began and we old fogies jumped around a ton, I had a flashback to Teenage Fanclub shows of yore (at Slim's, I believe), when the song was pretty much a green light for the ex-pats in the audience to start moshing and shoving everyone around. I'm happy to report that they did not appear to be among us that night, and I for one don't miss them, but I kind of wonder where they might be now.

See also:
» ain't that enough

this is how i tell it

From one long-running Largo tradition to a newly developing mainstay: Jeff Tweedy's annual (?) winter residency at Largo at the Coronet. Stay a while, Jeff!

Jeff Tweedy, Largo at the Coronet, January 3-4, 6-7, 2019

Now that Jeff has booked his third run at Largo, I suppose these dates no longer count as a rarity, but they remain a massive treat, and I refuse to take them for granted. I hope to make these shows for as long as I can, using as much subterfuge and obfuscation as necessary.

The fact that Jeff had played the West Coast only a few months prior, ostensibly promoting the same material, made me wonder how these shows might differ from the recent tour. Truth be told, the first night felt a bit like a continuation of that tour, albeit with a little rust as Jeff eased back into professional form. When you see Jeff and Wilco enough times, you start to recognize the standby tracks, which help both the audience and the performer(s) gain their footing and suss out one another. The first night included most of the songs that comprised the bulk of the setlist from the fall tour -- a reasonable expectation for Jeff's return.

The second night was another story altogether. Though Jeff kicked off with a couple of Warm tracks, he eventually rolled out some B-sides and Uncle Tupelo songs. However, I was gobsmacked by "Via Chicago," a song I've heard a jillion times at this point, but something about Jeff's cadence, the notes from the harmonica, and maybe even the room's reverence hit me between the eyes and moved me to tears. As much as I love the song, I can't recall the song's inherent loneliness striking me so deeply ever before. As Jeff played the final notes, Evonne and I turned to each other and discovered that we were both drying our eyes. In fact, it was so good that I barely minded the woman sitting next to me who laughed at the opening lines of the song.

I don't know if Jeff did this on purpose, but he made subtle changes to the classic tracks that night. He changed up the cadence and maybe the tunings. Actually, I don't know about the second part, but they weren't the same renditions we're used to. Maybe it was the rust again, or maybe Jeff wanted to try something new. In any case, they sounded amazing.

The somewhat complementary aspect of the first two nights led me to muse if the third and fourth nights would continue this theme, but -- spoiler alert -- they didn't. Instead, Jeff stuck to the core set, then sprinkled in deep cuts of his choice, including brand-new songs from the forthcoming Warmer, his follow-up solo record, expected this spring. Among these tracks, "One Sunday Morning" in particular stuck out to me. I mean, if you can't pull off a wordy, melancholy 12-minute (the studio version, anyway) at Largo, where can you do it? Still, it's not part of the regular rotation, so I tend to pay attention when it comes up.

No one asks anymore, but every now and then, a friend or acquaintance finds it hard to believe that I would see multiple consecutive shows by Jeff and Wilco. This time, I can point to a single song that made the whole trip worthwhile. Last year, Spencer and Sammy took the stage to sing and play a couple of songs. On this occasion, they joined their father for an old British folk tune ("Bright Phoebus," according to Paul), their voices melding in the way that only family can do. Their pride in and love for each other was visible, and I'm sure every face was smiling at the sight and sounds -- none more so than Jeff himself. Chalk it up as another Only at Largo (tm) moment.

Of course, it wasn't all sad songs, as we joined Jeff in singalongs for "Let's Go Rain" and "California Stars," among other tunes (though a couple of audience members raised questions about whether we should lend our vocals if not asked to do so). Jeff also took questions every night and shared a bunch of stories, including a hilarious anecdote about a Best Chest in the West contest at a bar he and his fellow musicians frequented after shows at Mississippi Nights. The questions on the whole, however, were less inspiring.

These shows happened to fall on the same weekend as the Golden Globe Awards, and Jeff plumbed this coincidence for tons of banter during the last two dates. But the scheduling did, in fact, result in some celebs not showing up until Monday night. Jeff had some fun with other California stereotypes, claiming to have used CBD cream for aches and pains in his playing arm. Fortunately, he reported no toilet paper deficits at the Airbnb this time.

Jeff had a different opener every night: Nick Offerman, Sarah Silverman, Tom Pappa, and Jeff Garlin, in that order. Tom Pappa was the most polished of the group, even though he subjected some of your favorite front-row faithful to his banter. The others pulled off less polished, more informal sets (which is often the case at Largo), but were all quite entertaining in their own way.

Finally, Andrew van Baal, who co-directed the Largo movie so long ago, filmed at least two of the shows from this run. It's anyone's guess how this footage will be used or even if the general public will get to see it, but at least we know it's in good hands.

See also:
» sorry charlie honey he's back from LA
» every night is a test
» early in the morning

on such a winter's day

Barring any major incidents, you can set this date in stone on my annual concert calendar. I'm not about to back out of Jon Brion's last show of the year at Largo any time soon.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 21, 2018

Tonight, an opener: the magician Derek Hughes, who -- holy symmetry, Batman -- I last saw at Largo almost exactly 10 years ago. Funny how the numbers work sometimes! Like all of us (surely), he looked a little different, and in fact, he reported on the changes in his life, including fatherhood and moving to Minnesota. As he bantered, he also pulled off a number of impressive illusions (not tricks!) with the help of several members of the audience, including some skeptics.

Jon's setup for this show included the video screens, a bunch of guitars, and a random keyboard, but no drums. As typical, he settled at the piano for his portion of the show, and here, I have to throw my hands up in futility because, as usual, I couldn't tell you the name of the wordless songs he played even if I wanted to. This is when I admit that my default guesses usually go to "My Funny Valentine" for sad-sounding songs and "Ain't Misbehavin'" for higher-tempo numbers. You're totally right to scoff at the fact that those are the only two standards I can name when they're played as instrumentals.

Jon commented it's "all uphill from here," and to emphasize his point, he played the classic funeral march from Chopin (I actually knew the theme, but had to look up Chopin for this post) and remarked on his fixation with G sharp minor. Relatively warmed up, he broke into his own "Knock Yourself Out" on piano, manipulating the keys for a tinny, old-fashioned sound effect. He also interspersed the song with snippets from "Jingle Bells" -- his first nod to the holiday.

He stayed at the piano but added a harmonica for the next song, drawing out a Dylanesque intro for "Someone Else's Problem Now." Because I don't go to Largo as often as I used to, I have no idea how often Jon breaks out his vintage tunes. I'm always happy to hear them, and maybe I'll get in a request for "Nothing Between Us" or "Amateur" next time.

Jon asks for requests and went with -- guess what -- an instrumental tune I can't name. Context clues indicate that he might've played the coda to "Layla," and he even rolled out a video clip of Clapton for accompaniment. But don't quote me on that.

The Christmas songs continued with "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," which included a beautiful filigree in the middle. That somehow became the audience request for "Don't Stop Believing." I'd like to mention here that once upon a time, Jon rarely entertained these more populist requests. In fact, he was more likely to dig into obscure artists, whether we knew them or not. But of course, the audience and the venue have changed, and you can't expect time to stand still. Perhaps in acknowledgement of this shift, he had the crowd sing along instead of providing the vocals himself. And they did!

Jon returned to the holiday spirit with "Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy," which morphed into "Incense and Peppermint," then shifted again as he called up footage of a symphony orchestra and dialed up the trusty Moog and Casio keyboard that line the piano. This became "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes," which is always worth revisiting. Jon brought it back to "Sugarplum," but my notes indicate that he went on a lot longer, giving us the Christmas Freakout of 2018 (likely his words).

The guitars finally got a look for two whole songs: first, "Excuse to Cry," then a request for "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," drenched in feedback and sounding a lot like the Hendrix version of "The Star-Spangled Banner" at first. Honestly, it could've used more Dave Rawlings.

Jon's crew had set up a smaller standalone keyboard at centerstage, so inevitably, Jon went to it, partially by audience demand. Also, somewhat by audience demand, he led us in a Bowie Christmas singalong, the sublime "Life on Mars." To bookend the keyboard section of the show, he worked in notes from "Sugarplum Fairy."

But it was then back to the classic piano for "We Are the Champions." I can't recall the impetus for this song, except that maybe it was one of the more vocal audience requests or perhaps Jon had snuck in a few notes in an earlier song. The audience ate it up, roaring in full voice.

Once more, I default to my bad guess regarding the follow-up jazzy instrumental tune. I'll pencil in "Ain't Misbehavin'," but there's little reason to trust me.

I don't think the next song came from an audience suggestion, but whatever its origins, I'm more than thankful that Jon plucked it out of his vast catalog. It was "Happiness" from Elliott Smith, so gorgeous in all its forms. There's a lot to love about this obvious gem of a song, but I can't help but focus on Jon's ability to draw out the rhythm. I guess it shouldn't be a huge surprise, given Elliott's occasional forays behind the kit, but it's easy to miss all of its moving pieces amid the sublime melody.

Jon went back to requests, and a long build became "How Soon Is Now," with the harmonica providing the song's trademark dissonant note. In the 30-odd years since I first heard this song, I've sort of learned how Johnny Marr created that signature effect, and yet I still marvel at its sound. Jon then segued into a Morrissey's own "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get."

Jon broke out into a semi-medley of Christmas-theme tracks: "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and "The Christmas Song," before shifting to one of his favorites: "Waterloo Sunset." To the crowd's credit, our harmonies were fantastic on the "sha la la" bits, which I didn't hear a whole lot in the past. Jon did bring up some footage of Andres Segovia and slip in a few notes of "Tomorrow Never Knows" as he stretched out the tune, but all you need to know is that "Waterloo Sunset" remains a beauty.

Jon returned for one more song on the main stage, and by audience request went with "California Dreaming." It seems so obvious that I'm surprised it hasn't come up sooner (in my experience). But Jon being Jon, he sprinkled more sugarplum fairy dust toward the end.

In an unusual move, Jon invited us to the Little Room, where he said he'd play piano for anyone who wanted to listen. He was true to his word, treating us to about 30 minutes of music, all free of lyrics. There might've been tunes by Cole Porter and Scott Joplin, but I can't say for sure. But I can report he did a few of his own songs, including "Little Person" (by request) and "Punch-Drunk Melody." At one point, he set up all the wind-up toys around the piano, but alas, it wasn't "Voices." Instead, he threw in "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," and to end the night properly, he concluded on a grand note with a musical nod to Bugs Bunny.

That's all, folks!

-- Derek Hughes opener

Setlist
-- piano
-- Knock Yourself Out
-- Someone Else's Problem Now
-- We Wish You a Merry Christmas
-- Don't Stop Believing
-- Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy
-- Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes
-- Excuse to Cry
-- Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
-- Life on Mars
-- We Are the Champions
-- Happiness
-- How Soon Is Now/The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get
-- Charlie Brown Christmas
-- The Christmas Song
-- Waterloo Sunset
-- Telegram Sam
-- California Dreaming

The Little Room
-- We Wish You a Merry Christmas
-- Punch-Drunk Melody
-- Little Person

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
» a few of my favorite things