i'm so grateful

Every October, we in the Bay Area are forced to make hard choices, some of which can tear you apart. I hated deciding between the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival and the last Giants home games of the year (postseason or no) -- so I split the difference. Fortunately, I was able to get to two days of the festival and catch a bunch of awesome acts.

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, Oct. 2-4, 2015: How relaxed was I to start off the festival? I took the day off from work to enjoy unfettered access to all the music I desired, yet didn't leave my place until 4 pm. Even then, I totally misread the schedule -- I thought the Punch Brothers started at 4:30, but in fact, they were onstage at 4:10. By the time I arrived at the Banjo Stage, they'd probably been playing for a good five minutes or so.

The early impression was not pretty. As I waded through the crowd at Banjo -- which I've told myself over the years I never want to do -- I had to wonder why bother at all. I mean, I've seen the Punch Brothers a bunch of times now, including in very close quarters, and though I like their music, I'm not gaga for them. Nonetheless, I soldiered on and settled in for about 20 minutes of their set, including the perpetually fun "Rye Whiskey," but I had to abandon ship after the Debussy number. Nothing against Debussy, but I realized the Punch Brothers' set doesn't vary enough for me to put up with the masses. However, they are certified crowd pleasers and a natural fit for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass.

The early exit from the Punch Brothers left me plenty of time to get to the much less congested Arrow Stage for Big Star Third. To my delight, it was low-key and mellow, I found a great spot, and -- most important -- I spotted Frank Riley, the man who's booked probably a million shows you've loved. Weekend complete! Well, not quite, but it was a nice item to check off early in the festivities.



Have I gone on record on this blog claiming album-in-their-entirety shows are passe? I stand by it, but I also reserve the right to make exceptions. I think every music nerd can remember the first time they heard Big Star. I'm pretty sure it happened to me at Largo, but of course Alex Chilton was already a legendary name courtesy of the Replacements. Over the years, I've grown more appreciative of Big Star, and their songs can haunt my brain for days on end.

In case you aren't familiar, Big Star Third is a roving assemblage of musicians playing Sisters Lovers, appropriately enough Big Star's third record. I'm too lazy to look up the core members, but it appears Chris Stamey and Jody Stephens are at the center of the group, and the day's gathering included such illustrious names as Mike Mills, Ken Stringfellow, and Pat Sansone, along with local favorites Chuck Prophet and Kelley Stoltz, not to mention Van Dyke Parks leading the Kronos Quartet and other guests whose names escape me.

As usual, I didn't take notes, so I can't tell you who sang what, but I can report they all sounded great. Seriously -- those were divine voices onstage, in a festival full of divine voices. I loved seeing the local faces, which provoked one man near me to inquire about Kelley Stoltz. Another concertgoer helpfully informed him of Kelley's awesome work over the years. Here's hoping the first fellow acted on the knowledge.

Jody Stephens' turns at the mic were especially charming, as he shared his gratitude and his memories with the crowd. As a fan, you had to love seeing a little bit of the original voices in the room. The extra touches -- the aforementioned Van Dyke Parks and Kronos Quartet, as well as a range of horns -- were wonderful too and hardly the grand treatment you'd expect at a free so-called bluegrass festival. But that's another reason to love Hardly Strictly.

I can't lie -- the "hits" were my favorites, and it was even great to hear a version of "Holocaust" that came in at less than 30 minutes. Here's a tip: Don't turn down the chance to hear "Femme Fatale," "September Gurls," or "Thank You Friends" performed by a dozen-odd top-shelf musicians.

Saturday was a little more purposeful, but hardly harried, as the first act I wanted to see happened to be on the smallest, most mellow stage. You'd be hard-pressed to label Nels Cline and Julian Lage as bluegrass in any way -- and that's fine! They still commanded a good audience over at the cozy, laidback Porch Stage. I can't begin to describe their music, except that they touch on a wide range of styles. While much of their set consisted of complex but effortless interplay, what I loved best were the moments where one would simply let the other go and intently observe, no strings touched. It's a beautiful example of trust and admiration.

From there, with a lot of help, we got to a great spot for Gillian Welch and David Rawlings -- which never happens for me. I was ready to be annoyed by my spot somewhere in the middle of the massive field, but Sandy came through with the connection and the moxie to get us to a prime location.

Have I talked enough about how much I love Gill and Dave? Can I make it any clearer? It's been too long since I've seen them, and even a few notes into their set, I was in heaven again. I think they did one new song, but they can sing the phone book in harmony, and I'd listen. They appeared to add another new cover to their repertoire: a version of "Mr. Tambourine Man" they worked up for their recent appearance at the Newport Folk Festival. The highlight for me remained "I'll Fly Away," which moved tons of people to get up from their lawn chairs and sing along. The singalongs get me every time.



From there, I vaguely tried to check out Paul Weller, but I couldn't be bothered past a song and decided to head over to the Robyn Hitchcock set at the Bandwagon Stage -- a new, tiny stage fashioned out of an Airstream-like trailer. As you can imagine, it was a very informal, casual set. Emma Swift joined him for a few songs, and they even soundchecked Roxy Music's "Oh Yeah," though alas, it didn't make the final set. (Sigh.) The best part of Robyn's set was his running claim that every song was set in 1970s San Francisco, even as he admitted it was really about his relationship with his mother. Look, there's no way to capture the aura of a Robyn Hitchcock gig or monologue, which is why you have to see him with our own eyes. Do yourself the favor!



And thus ended my Hardly Strictly adventure for the year. Fortunately, Rocktober is still in effect, so a couple more reports will filter in over the weeks. Once again, all the appreciation in the world goes to the late Warren Hellman and family. I'm continually amazed we get to partake of this treat year after year.

See also:
» tripping the dark fantastic
» don't get around much anymore
» i've heard a rumor from ground control
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
» that's the way the cornbread crumbles
» overtook me by surprise

unless you hate baby jesus

With my own Christmas plans somewhat derailed this year, it's nice to know that at least some traditions are going strong. Also, if you have room at the stable for me and two dogs this Christmas, drop me a line!

Aimee Mann's Second Annual Christmas Show, Bimbo's 365 Club, December 2 and 3, 2007: Back when I sent out Christmas cards, I may have pulled the supremely cheapo move of collecting extras from years past and mailing them, with the hope that the same card wouldn't land in the same friend's mailbox.

I don't know if Aimee Mann does that, but her Christmas show, in a manner of speaking, does not.



So though we saw some of her friends (Paul F. Tompkins, Morgan Murphy) and bandmates (bassist Paul Bryan, pianist/keyboardist Jamie Edwards, and drummer John Sands, accompanied by new--for the group--addition Mark Spencer on lead guitar) return to the lineup, we also got a good dose of fresh material too.

The biggest update was a little film Aimee presented, charting her "Peanuts"-like "journey" to the Christmas show. I won't try to describe it too much, except to note that it was hilarious and that both Aimee's and Paul F. Tompkins's acting chops were spot-on. Oh, friends-of-Largo John Krasinski, Emily Proctor, Fred Armisen, Bob Odenkirk, Patton Oswalt, Ben Stiller, and Will Ferrell turned in cameos too. But don't let those names dazzle and derail you; as good as they were, Aimee was the star attraction.

Also new this year was a seemingly local emphasis on musical talent, as Aimee tapped a couple of Bay Area figures for the show. This is where I hang my head in shame, as my incessant rock tourism has led me to squander a lot of opportunities to see the acts who happen to live and work in town. Thankfully, artists such as Aimee take up the slack, as both Sean Hayes and Chuck Prophet were pretty awesome, though in different ways.

Sean Hayes, who graces Largo from time to time, exhibited many of the characteristics you'd expect from someone familiar with the club. That is, his songs were thoughtful, wry, and effortless, and his stage presence assured and welcoming. On the second night, he and Aimee performed a duet that will appear on her new album, and both nights, he rolled out the only song in his repertoire that could be vaguely connected to Christmas: a tune about having sex on the living room floor with Mary Magdalene.

Chuck Prophet, on the other hand, brought the rawk. He and Aimee belted the Christmas song that Michael Penn and Jon Brion wrote a million years ago, then with just her band, he dug into covers of Iggy Pop and Alex Chilton songs. The second night, the band seemed to especially relish the second number, roaring out the "hey"s in unison.



Paul and Morgan reprised their roles as comic foils and showed off their musical bent along the way. Paul provided the especially louche-sounding half of "Baby It's Cold Outside," complete with a moral to the story ("no means no"), as well as the more authoritarian tone to "You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch." In between songs, he also worked his stand-up, sharing a combination Christmas story/public service announcement that DARE might want to get behind.

Morgan donned the body suit and tutu once more (along with a big cardboard cut-out of the Star of David hanging on her chest) for her turn as the Hanukkah Fairy. This year, however, she was more than the window dressing for the show, as she also kicked out a rap about the story of Hanukkah, complete with backing vocals from Aimee herself. Yet again, I will invoke audience privilege and not attempt to replicate her rhymes, except to say that there was a shout-out to Loehmann's and the Trader Joe's on Geary and Masonic among the couplets. Though she stole the show, the Hanukkah Fairy couldn't join us the second night, as she had to fly back to L.A. for a one-line role in a Jeremy Piven movie. Hmph.



Aimee's musical contributions were fairly similar to what we heard last year, highlighting songs from her Christmas album, and for the most part, they hit the older tracks you'd expect too. Thus, we got some of the slightly more holiday-themed songs ("Clean Up for Christmas," "Jacob Marley's Chains"), as well as her go-to favorite hits ("Deathly," "Save Me"). I always want to hear "Deathly," but Aimee reworked it this round, starting out with just her voice and the acoustic guitar, bringing in the band, then ending on a gospel-like flourish, in the process delivering on the song's grand arc, both lyrical and musical.

On the second night, Aimee also tried out a couple of tunes from her forthcoming album (due out in the spring), including the aforementioned duet with Sean as well as "Freeway," which I recall hearing the one time I've seen her at Largo.



December means a lot of things to me, as it does to many people, but if Aimee's willing to make her Christmas show a regular gig, I'm glad to add another item to that long list of associated events.

See also:
» we can be us
» it's not going to stop
» i'm the stuff of happy endings