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

before i sputter out

Just to get this out of the way, my concert calendar for August now appears depleted, but maybe next month will be a little livelier. In the meantime, I hit the Great American Music Hall for the eels.

Eels, Great American Music Hall, August 11, 2011: I've fallen into the formerly anathema habit of not buying concert tickets ahead of time and letting the chips fall where they may. This often means missing the gig entirely, or I turn to Craigslist for an extra. For the eels gig, several sellers contacted me, but I also got an imbalanced exchange with another would-be ticket holder. I'll excerpt his emails below.

I'm currently trying to recruit a girl to come along; but she doesn't know who EELS are and is recovering from surgery. So I'd say chances of you getting it are even higher than I am (hahhahahah - don't worry about the only one who thinks I'm funny). I live in [town name] so I'd have to meet you in the Tenderloin. The only thing I need you to do is look out for police officers and crackheads with weapons while I score my dope. (Unarmed crackheads are easy to handle). Just kidding of course......

Man....chick said a week and a half ago she'd love to go. Now I get a text on the DAY OF THE SHOW that she isn't coming 'but if you want to come to [town name] for a few drinks I'd be happy to have you.' I CAN GET ALCOHOL ON JESUS' BIRTHDAY WOMAN! What the fuck is that? Granted E tours way too much and I wouldn't be surprised to see him in the Bay Area before New Years......It is not an everyday occurrence. She probably drinks fruity smirnoff shit anyways. Damn I'm pissed. Kinda nice how my sarcasm stays in tact when I'm really mad though :) Up at [university name] used to pay 400 for a single football seat when the face value was something like 112. I don't want to rip you off though; just want you to see a band you enjoy and have enough money to survive the week (I'm frugal......Danish. Not Jewish. But frugal). Can you do $50 in unmarked Canadian bills?

Note: This does not include a surprise Gchat session littered with jokes (?) about chemical dependency and mandatory sentencing -- watch your privacy controls, kids! I ended up buying a ticket elsewhere in a completely professional transaction, and when I informed the fellow above, he replied that he'd "found a total cutie on Match.com who loves Eels." I'm pretty sure I dodged a major bullet on this one.

I can't tell you whether this guy was serious, but if it was performance art, it was fitting for an eels show, where a dose of theatrics has always been the norm. Tonight, early hints of these dramatic touches included an impressive bank of lights, three small trophies topping various amps and monitors, and a reinforced barrier at the front of the stage. Also, "Eelvis Presley" warmed up the crowd with a short selection of famous tracks from the King.



It soon became apparent why the barrier was in place; it allowed room for three wooden blocks in the gap between the audience and the band. E, in turn, worked this short expanse as something like a catwalk, ambling out to the edge throughout the night. But let's face it -- this was hardly a teenybopper crowd. We greeted him enthusiastically, but no one launched themselves onstage.

It's a little odd to think that the eels have been around for 15 years now, with a full discography to prove it. I've managed to catch them on several tours in this time, and one thing I've grown to expect (in addition to the aforementioned flourishes) is the band's ongoing transformations of the of their back catalog.

Back in 2008, the two-man gang banged out stripped-down treatments, but with six supporting players, the latest version of the group went all out. The only description I feel comfortable reporting is "I Like Birds" went all cock rock. Also, during the new-style "Novocaine for the Soul," I kept wondering what kind of miracle occurred that such an unorthodox piece of pop could be considered a hit. Finally, I never would've guessed that the former standard bearers of the '90s Silverlake sound would burrow so heavily into roots rock, but that kind of discovery is exactly why some of us stick around. They rounded out the setlist with a cover of "Hot Fun in the Summertime," though only after confessing to thinking they were in San Felipe, Mexico, for New Year's Eve.



E held court with Letterman-esque proclamations ("That was fun!") and minutely detailed band intros. I recognized a few of the faces, such as The Chet on guitar and Knuckles on drums. We were told Tiny Al on bass came from the same family that gave us Crazy Al and Big Al, which I suspected all along. The three other players looked less familiar, but they fit in nicely with their shades and sport coats. You can't say the eels don't set the scene.



The Submarines opened the show, and after a couple of hints, I remembered they were featured in an Apple commercial a little while ago. Speaking of LA fads, they hit the current sweet spot of boy/girls vocals in combination with a folksy, poppy sound. They charmed me, which is a rare feat these days.

See also:
» i like birds ... and eels
» where butterflies and blackbirds perch

all is full of love

How often do you go into anything knowing it's the last of its kind? I attended Beulah's last show, but the way reunion tours pop up these days, I figure a second (or third or fourth or ...) chance will eventually bring the boys to the yard. Besides, I can't think of very many places that have meant as much to me as the musical anomaly in Fairfax Village known as Largo, especially those Friday night gigs with Jon Brion.

Jon Brion, Largo, May 2, 2008

Even before doors opened, there was no denying this would be a helluva night. The no-reservations line stretched farther down the block than I've seen since the days of Kanye Fever, and once inside and seated, we could clearly tell that they were planning to pack in the bodies. In addition, our exact change was refused, and our favorite table awaited.

Our imaginations had started to run wild in the days leading up to this show, as we envisioned all kinds of scenarios that could possibly unfold. We wondered which friends and collaborators would show up, Paul floated the idea of the artists inviting audience members up to the stage, and there was some speculation about where the Largo movie would fit into the schedule. These questions were partially answered by the silhouettes cast against the bar, but it was still anyone's guess--standard procedure for just about every Jon Brion show.

First up was Bobb Bruno in bunny drag, but instead of his usual mix of ambient sounds and rocking riffs, he presented a montage of recordings, culled partly from Jon's studio work and partly from Jon's Largo shows. I recall a bit of Kanye's freestyling and snippets from the Punch-Drunk Love soundtrack, along with some unreleased tracks and old favorites. The night had officially begun.

Next up was Dave "Gruber" Allen, who led a haiku slam with the help of Griffee and the musical accompaniment of a bassist [paraphrase follows] they had discovered at Paladino's in Reseda, playing with the band Big Enough Umbrella until he was kicked out for acting too much like Sting. Thus, we welcomed "JB" to the stage, and a few poems in, the brass section, in the form of Flanny, joined them. Along the way, we were regaled with the century-old history of Largo, started by Seamus Finnegan and Jellyroll Brion. And to my companions for the evening, I'd like to ask: Did I ever subject you to the 405 that weekend? That's how you know I love you.



During our pre-show gawking, we had seen a couple of familiar faces by the bar, had taken stock of a couple of well-placed stools onstage, and had jumped to a conclusion or two. Our hunches were ever so correct, as next on the bill were Flight of the Conchords, whom Evonne and I had first seen at Largo a mere two years ago. Considering that the Conchords (1) had people lining up three-quarters around the block to see them at Amoeba a week ago, (2) could claim a Top 5 debut for their newly released album, and (3) were about to embark on a sold-out nationwide tour, you really had to wonder what they were doing at Largo.

Well, I'll tell you exactly what they were doing: showcasing their patented combination of charm and hilarity. They tried out two new songs, the first of which moved Bret to grab his keytar, leave the stage, and award a couple of guys at the front tables with impromptu lap dances, while he simultaneously rocked out the solo. For the second song, Jemaine manned the omnichord, and Bret took the high notes for another tale of several loves gone wrong (conveniently delivered in the form of rhyming couplets).

The roars of delight climbed ever higher as the man of the hour returned to the stage. If he felt any trepidation, he didn't show it, not that he should've. For a little while, the show proceeded like any other Jon Brion gig. He started out on the electronic toys lining the piano, poured out a heartfelt Hank Snow number, and followed it with a Gershwin tune, the last of them accompanied by Sebastian Steinberg.

I not only landed the first request of the auspicious evening, Evonne and I helped jog Jon's memory by humming the opening bars of the song. And what do you know? When Jon asked for a jazz drummer, our friend Chris took it upon himself to fill out the trio. Jon called it the "Charlie Brown version" of the song; I just know it was jazzy and fun, and it made me giggle.

Jon handled the next batch of tunes by himself. He led off with a short tease from "Eight Miles High" before plucking out "It Looks Like You" instead, packed together three disparate songs to satisfy the other requests, then went with couple of his own tunes. "Ruin My Day" betrayed a Dylanesque tone, while "Over Our Heads" remained as light as gossamer.

The next order of business was to order any [paraphrased] alphabetically monikered members of the audience to the stage; thus emerged E, from the eels, of course. The two of them chatted amiably about their friendship, Largo itself, and their lack of preparation (the topic they discussed while hanging out before the shows: turning Largo into a rock 'n' roll Branson). E was the sole performer that night who didn't talk up the new place; instead, he encouraged us to rub it in that we were at Largo on Fairfax back in the day and to boast that nothing will approach the experience. The only other point I can attempt to reproduce on this blog is E's revelation that the proprietors of a restaurant he and Jon used to frequent was convinced they were a couple. Holiday tidings and vows of love were exchanged too.

With that, they played some actual music, familiar songs from the E/Jon oeuvre. When Sebastian and Benmont Tench hopped on, E moved back to the drums, and they went into "Raspberry Beret," for which E needed no lyrical assistance at all. Jon resumed vocal duties for "Controversy," though following the lyric that asks, "Am I straight or gay," E piped up with an unsolicited aside ("you're gay"). The looming medley was slightly derailed when not a single person in the room stepped up with the lyrics to "Another One Bites the Dust," but an audience member who knew the words to "Rapper's Delight" got us back on track.

She's not exactly any audience member, but Sara Watkins was summoned to the mic by Benmont, and the two of them shared the lead for "I Want You Back." I would've liked to see her stay for the next one, but Jon grabbed the short Beatles medley, at least until Benmont threw in a couple of curveballs. I (and the rest of the room) caught "Tequila," but I couldn't begin to tell you what else he might've snuck past us.

Jon went into an old BeeGees song, which E complained he didn't know, and that in turn brought us to perhaps the most famous Brothers Gibb composition of all time. Ever mindful, Jon conferred with E for the next title, to which E gave the thumbs-up, and off we dove into the Zeppelin catalog. Yet again, Benmont took the reins and steered us through a litany of songs ranging from Gershwin to Springsteen. He settled in long enough to get us all to sing "Hang on Sloopy" with him, but then it was back to "Born to Run" and a piano solo so striking that even the musicians onstage had to stop and listen.

Though we were still winded, things were just warming up. For the next few tunes, we got a couple of Largo's favorite songbirds: first Sara, then Fiona Apple, then Sara and Fiona together. After the Buddy Holly duet, Sebastian and E vacated the stage (we wouldn't see E for the rest of the night), leaving just Jon, Benmont, and Fiona for a handful of standards.

Jon and Benmont got in one more song before the Mesmerizer (a.k.a. Ron Lynch) took over. He hypnotized Jon to do his bidding, brought up Dorris from the audience, and yelled at us a couple of times. It was impossible to not think of George Oscar Bluth during this segment, but he provided a decent break in what would turn out to be a long, momentous night.

It was back to Jon solo for a quick Scott Joplin number, then Paul F. Tompkins slogged through the audience to reach the stage. Paul, it seemed, had come to praise Largo, not to bury it, reminding us of its many demerits: the food (of course); the ridiculous requests from the back of the room, usually issued by a staffer; mistaken identities as proliferated by journalists in their annual story about Largo and Jon; and most of all, the bathroom, or lack thereof. Jon, Paul, and eventually Flanny would spend a good amount of time talking about the toilet situation, the "executive washroom" (i.e., the dumpster behind the club), and who's been pissing in Flanagan's office wastebasket. See you next Tuesday, indeed! When the laughter finally subsided, Jon and PFT did a sweet song together, though I'm not sure how PFT managed to get a breath out while hunched over the music stand.

Jon played his own tune while the Watkinses and Gabe Wicher gathered their instruments, and for the next few songs, he didn't do much else. For the first one, Jon stood to the side of the stage and gulped down his Guinness while the trio delivered the goods. Then for the next two songs, he left the stage entirely to watch the show from the back, the first time he'd done that in 12 years, he claimed. But his presence was hardly missing, as the Watkinses and crew (now also numbering Benmont Tench and Paul Bryan) performed "Trouble" and "Same Mistakes." This may have been the first time I've heard Benmont on "Trouble," and it was as gorgeous as you can imagine.

Earlier in the set, Jon had declared that they would play straight through, without a break, and we of course cheered the prospect. That moment seemed like a million years ago as we realized we were about to reach the final song. To no one's surprise, it turned out to be "Waterloo Sunset," suggested by Flanny but considered by Jon as well. I don't care how many times you've heard Jon do this song; it sounded unlike anything I've ever heard at the club.

Jon left the stage, and "Don't Dream It's Over" streamed out over the PA, but the cheers and standing ovation wouldn't stop. It was now well past 2 a.m., but the rules had been suspended. Jon returned and, through tears, delivered an emotional, earnest, and deeply touching speech. I can't tell you what he said, but the spirit of the message was clear: how special Largo has been all these years, and how grateful he was to be there. Of all the pure moments of pleasure, inspiration, and sentiment I've seen at the club, that has to top the list.



But wait, it's not over yet! We clapped some more, and Jon brought out Flanny, their faces still damp with tears. Jon pushed him up to the stage, told us that we would be so mad at Flanny for not having done this sooner--and tuned the guitar. In the short, somewhat anti-climatic interim, Flanny also thanked everyone in his somewhat gruff way before treating (in the truest sense of the word) us to an Icelandic lullaby, as he called it: Bjork's "All Is Full of Love." Now my heart is full.

The night was not exactly over; having crashed through last call, the club (I suppose) had nothing to lose at this point. We said hello to friends old, new, and somewhere in between. Sometime before 3 a.m., we finally tore ourselves away.

As a teenager, my rock fandom frequently took the form of games of MASH (you will have two kids with Simon LeBon, live in a hut in Grenada, and ride a Green Machine). My 20s were spent seeking any flimsy foothold in the music industry (maybe we can talk to them if we start a zine!). Well into my 30s, I can laugh at those notions, now that I realize the true impact of music in my life: that is, the profound bonds it's enabled, the amazing memories it's ushered in, and the true happiness it's brought, all of which were abundantly evident this evening.

But just to be on the safe side, I squeeze in the occasional round of MASH too.

Setlist
Bobb Bruno
--Jon's greatest hits montage

Dave "Gruber" Allen
--haiku slam (joined by Mike, Jon, and Flanny)

Flight of the Conchords
--Gonna Get Freaky Tonight
--Ex-Girlfriend Choir

--keyboards
--I Don't Hurt Anymore

with Sebastian Steinberg
--Our Love Is Here to Stay

with Sebastian Steinberg and Chris
--Pomp & Circumstance

--It Looks Like You
--Safety Dance/The End/Knock Yourself Out
--Ruin My Day
--Over Our Heads

with E
--This Guy's in Love with You
--My Beloved Monster

with E, Sebastian, and Benmont
--Raspberry Beret
--Controversy/Another One Bites the Dust/Rapper's Delight [w/ audience member]

with E, Sebastian, Benmont, and Sara Watkins
--I Want You Back

with E, Sebastian, and Benmont
--And Your Bird Can Sing
--Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey/Tequila/more
--New York Mining Disaster 1941
--Staying Alive
--Good Times, Bad Times
--Misty Mountain Hop/Jesse's Girl/Badlands/If I Only Had a Brain/Addams Family theme/Hang on Sloopy/Born to Run

with E, Sebastian, Benmont, and Sara
--Ain't Misbehavin'

with E, Sebastian, Benmont, and Fiona
--River Stay Away from My Door

with E, Sebastian, Benmont, Fiona, and Sara
--Every Day

with Benmont and Fiona
--Cry Me a River
--After You've Gone
--You Belong to Me

with Benmont
--I Don't Really Want to Know

Ron Lynch magic act [with Dorris]

--Maple Leaf Rag

with Paul F. Tompkins
--Will and Grace DVD menu
--La Marseillaise
--As Time Goes By
--I Don't Want to Spoil the Party

--Trial and Error

Sara, Sean, and Gabe Wicher [no Jon]
--Say Darling Say

Benmont, Sara, Sean, Gabe Wicher, and Paul Bryan [no Jon]
--Trouble
--Same Mistakes

--Waterloo Sunset

with Flanny
--All Is Full of Love

See also:
» i won't be denied
» i am in paradise
» it's been said many times, many ways

where butterflies and blackbirds perch

Thanks to a happy confluence of events, I've hardly been deprived of E and the eels between tours, but I wouldn't complain if their appearances increased a bit. Until that happens (i.e., never), I'll stick with Plan A and continue attending their shows up here.

eels, Palace of Fine Arts, April 14, 2008: One of the things I love about the fantastic group of people who filled up my hours in Chicago last weekend is that we're all music nuts, which should be clear in the way we track down, map out, and fill out our calendar with as many gigs as we can. Thus, even as we chowed down and awaited Jeff's arrival, we found plenty of time to discuss other gigs and artists. Thanks to Sooz's recent concert experience, we buzzed about E and the eels quite a bit.

Truthfully, we mostly chatted about the merchandise available at the shows, and let me assure you, there were some good 'uns. Alas, I resisted the undies, despite my long-held remorse over not buying Pulp knickers when I had a chance.

Sooz didn't tell me much about the show itself, perhaps because she wanted to keep it a surprise; further, I hate spoilers. For a band like the eels, this effort is worth it, as they do their best to mix it up from tour to tour.

The streak remained intact for this gig; in lieu of an opener, for the first hour-plus of the show, we watched Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives, a documentary about E's father, the quantum physicist Hugh Everett III. (So that was why we were in a seated venue!) The film had the potential to be both obtuse in its explications of the elder Everett's radical theories, as well as maudlin in following E through his childhood home. Much in keeping with the eels' style, though, it was neither; rather, it was pretty funny, even when E mentioned his sister's suicide or finding his father's dead body. I think my favorite part of the movie was when E listened to old recordings, including one of his father, complete with incidental backing track of the young Mark Oliver Everett on drums.



The musical portion of the evening also avoided your typical rock cliches. E and the Chet manned any of a number of instruments arranged in a circle around the stage: guitars, drums, a piano, a pump organ, a celeste, and even a musical saw. The arrangement reminded me a bit of a certain club in Los Angeles, especially when the two of them switched off drumming duties in the middle of a song and when the Chet took over the vocals for a Led Zeppelin tune.

Aside from this detour, the eels' catalog got a good workout, as they bashed out old favorites such as "I Like Birds," "Climbing to the Moon," "My Beloved Monster," and "Novocaine for the Soul," as well as deep album cuts. Supplementing the musical contributions were the voice of a god-like figure, the Chet's dramatic reading of selections from E's memoirs, and E hilariously sharing recent fan mail and concert reviews. I gotta hand it to them for giving us a true multimedia experience!

Legend has it that Bobby Jr. and his human companion can often be spotted traversing Hillhurst. With any luck, they'll take a detour out to Fairfax Avenue some time before Largo pulls up its roots. I'm not holding my breath, but as any eels show will prove, stranger things can happen.

See also:
» it's been said many times, many ways
» i like birds...and eels

it's been said many times, many ways

Back home, my Christmas is shaping up to be The Year Without a Santa Claus, but at least some things stay constant--such as Jon Brion's last Largo shows (plural!) of the year.



Jon Brion, Largo, December 21, 2007: The cousin decided to fly off to Vietnam for Christmas and New Year, thus abandoning our--OK, my--self-declared holiday tradition of catching Jon Brion's last Largo show of the year. Fortunately, she'll be back next month to correct the error of her ways.

Before the show even began, we had already taken in a good measure of festivities. For example, the tables next to us filled up with a whole slew of Largo talent, some of whom don't drop in often enough for my tastes. And though we tried to play it cool, we were totally dorking out inside.

Meanwhile, under the spotlights, the Largo staff went to great lengths to mic a wooden stool occupying a good chunk of real estate onstage. We wondered if we should expect a Storytellers session (helmed by one of those aforementioned Largo singer/songwriters) in our immediate future, but apparently, we weren't thinking outside the (gift) box, as the spot turned out to be reserved for the first guest of the night: a singing Santa doll.

Jon watched with the rest of us before Santa's charge and welcome petered out. With that course exhausted, Jon sat down at the piano for a cacophonous opening that eventually meandered toward melody. From there, the audience requests kicked in. The separate calls for drums and the always awesome "Better You Than Me" dovetailed nicely, and Jon volunteered that the song was a prime example of the "self-indulgence" common of songwriters in their 20s (I beg to differ). Another mashup married Michelle's suggestion for the baroque style to someone's request for "Mystery Achievement," but that would be the end of the musical mix-and-match, as the cavalcade of stars was imminent.

Jon handed off the request for "Raspberry Beret" to someone he said would know it better: E from the eels. But unlike last year, they played it far from straight. E delivered the spoken-word version of the song, while Jon accompanied him on piano, celeste, and vocoder. Jon mostly took over the the choruses, to E's surprise, as it looked like he cut himself off a few times when he realized Jon had started in. I'd also like to mention that I tried to help when E forgot the "lightning seeds" line, but the two plowed on regardless.

E and Jon conferred shortly for the next selection, half-remembered by E and mostly improvised by Jon. In fact, after glossing over several portions of the lyrics, E closed it with the unforgettable line: "Blah blah blah blah blah."

I don't do justice to vast expanses of the Largo experience, and high on that "you have to be there" list are moments between Jon and E. I know there's a writer's strike going on, but you couldn't script the repartee flying between Jon and E even if you tried. E made a point of heaping praise on Jon and, per his yearly tradition, telling him that he loved him. E's deadpan delivery and reputation for dark humor beg you to assume he's kidding, but their mutual enjoyment trumps all. This lovefest, however, made for an awkward transition into their next attempt at Bacharach, the deliciously titled "This Guy's in Love with You," which saw Jon feeding E his lines.

The next run of titles were all eels originals, but just about every other aspect of the performance was up for grabs. While Jon remained on piano, E picked up an electric guitar, and Greg Leisz joined them on pedal steel for the kickoff track. The second tune saw Jon switch to drums, while Paul Bryan, cute as a button, sauntered in from stage left, bass guitar in hand to fill out the rhythm section. They joked about Paul wandering in from Canter's, a gag that E would run with later when he referred to Paul, whom I'm assuming he'd never met before, as "Canter's guy," but I, for one, love seeing Paul join the Friday night stable of guests. Then for the third song, it was Benmont Tench's turn to amble casually through the stage door.

This third number, "Not Ready Yet," shakes up the club every time, but I'm not sure it's ever been as entertaining as it was tonight. To begin, there was the rather mortifying situation before the song started when we learned that E doesn't exactly know how to tune the guitar. Pitching in, Jon stepped out from behind the drums, sidled next to E, and without removing the guitar from E's frame, tuned it to satisfaction. Ever helpful, Jon also instructed everyone on the three chords that comprise the song.

Greg was amazing on this song, bestowing upon it supple, penetrating chords that gave merit to Jon's quip that it was "about fucking time" he joined them on this particular tune. Benmont, meanwhile, rocked the piano so hard that he knocked over all of Jon's implements, including the massive analog synth Jon's been favoring for the last couple of months. Order was restored for the next song, "My Beloved Monster," just in time for Benmont to shine.

For some reason, E had been reluctant to delve deeper into his catalog, but he was persuaded to give the eels' Christmas song a go, and it turned out to be a wise choice. This last number gave us Greg's surprising but exceedingly harmonious touch, as well as Jon's "reprise remix," as noted by E when Jon unexpectedly led them back through the song. Oh, and Jon donned the Santa hat!

The movements onstage suggested that the band was about to break up, but rather, E and Jon simply switched places, and the group would, in fact, expand shortly. In the interim, the five-piece took care of James's request for "something from Some Girls," then welcomed Sara and Sean Watkins to the collective.

Now numbering seven, the players indulged in old and new selections. Highlights include the round robin of solo turns in "Paper Moon"; the Benmont-driven "Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea," which the rest of the band didn't seem to really know but were trying to figure out along the way; and the three-part harmonies on "She's Got You" and "If You Gotta Go, Go Now." And of course, there was "Jealous Guy"--enough said.

E, through this sequence, looked more comfortable behind the drums than he did at some points on the mic, and his ease with the skins provided the touchstone for the next songs. He and Jon went through a quick drumcheck, then dove headfirst into a Led Zeppelin medley. Jon and E pushed hard to amazing effect, but the more interesting measure may be the way the other players found places for themselves in the song, which clearly didn't include lap steel or fiddle in its original incarnation; then again, that's Largo for you.

The dinosaur rockers capped off the first set, and after a break, Jon picked up where he usually starts: with an improvisational piano segment touched by hints of "You Don't Know What Love Is," though not exactly the song itself. He ran through a bunch of his own songs, culminating in a build of "I Believe She's Lying" that started out primly but exploded toward the end.

Though Jon called the night "Largo in reverse" during the opening set, he brought back his friends to the stage. David Garza was up first, chanting "happy birthday" over an electronic beat Jon created, but the same band (minus E and the Watkins) reformed as David led them through a couple of songs. During "Kiss," a member of the Watkins's party threw a jangly bracelet onstage, and Jon incorporated it into the percussion, complementing the tune's signature scratchy guitar beautifully.

The last song of the night was a request for Mike, Largo's general manager, and though Jon prepped the band ahead of time that dramatic twists and turns were in store for them, they came through regardless. As I recall, they closed last year's show with this traditional tune, though in radically different styles. Still, a year on, it was the big, gorgeous bow atop a sparkling night.

Setlist
--wind-up Santa
--White Christmas/Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
--Better You Than Me
--Mystery Achievement

w/ E
--Raspberry Beret [vox = E]
--We've Only Just Begun [vox = E]
--This Guy's in Love with You [vox = E]

w/ E and Greg Leisz
--Climbing to the Moon [vox = E]

w/ E, Greg Leisz, and Paul Bryan
--Railroad Man [vox = E]

w/ E, Greg Leisz, Paul Bryan, and Benmont Tench
--Not Ready Yet [vox = E]
--My Beloved Monster [vox = E]
--Everything's Gonna Be Cool This Christmas [vox = E]
--Beast of Burden

w/ E, Greg Leisz, Paul Bryan, Benmont Tench, and Sara and Sean Watkins
--Paper Moon
--Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea [vox = Benmont]
--She's Got You [vox = Sara]
--Jealous Guy
--If You Gotta Go, Go Now [vox = Sean]
--Good Times, Bad Times/Stairway to Heaven

Set 2
--You Don't Know What Love Is
--Knock Yourself Out
--The Way It Went
--Get Over Yourself
--Love of My Life So Far
--I Believe She's Lying

w/David Garza
--birthday chant [vox = David]

w/ Paul Bryan, David Garza, Greg Leisz, and Benmont Tench
--The Wanderer [vox = David]
--Kiss [vox = David]
--The Christmas Song

See also:
» she's lived it 10 times or more
» i'm offering this simple phrase
» let your heart be light

I'm offering this simple phrase

If, heaven forbid, I were able to see only one Jon Brion show each year, I'd cry a lot, and I'd probably try to figure out a way around the rules, but I wouldn't hesitate to save a very particular date. Without a doubt, I'd catch Jon's last Largo show of the calendar year. See below for details.

Jon Brion, Largo, December 22, 2006: Whimsy and compulsion in equal measures moved me to hit Jon Brion's last show of 2005. But by the time we picked our jaws off the floor and left the premises that night, I vowed to Annie we'd do it again every year. Fast-forward 365 days, and we were back at Largo's door.

Now more than ever, you can't predict the direction of any Jon Brion gig. Since returning from his tendonitis-incurred break, Jon's shows have had their ups and downs, though fangirl that I am, I always find something to take away from each. So despite the panoply of Largo regulars hanging out by the kitchen before the show started, we tried hard not to read too much into their presence.

One of these familiar faces opened the show: Paul F. Tompkins, who I've now seen four times this month. Fortunately, I think he's great, and he ranks up there with Patton Oswalt as one of my favorite comics. He did a couple of bits that were new to me, including a commentary on the Largo menu that could've been a verbatim conversation between me and anyone I've ever brought to the club. In addition to almost making me choke on my Midori sour, he introduced the second opener of the night: E, from the eels.

I won't bore you too much with another paean to the eels; besides, it's all there in my frequently (overly?) cited post on my first full-fledged Jon Brion show.

E's trademarks were in full bloom: his charming and slightly skewed observational songs, as well as his bone-dry humor. After a couple of tunes, he brought out a "kid" he'd known for a long time and who, he claimed, looked up to him to see what it meant to have made it. The youngster turned out to be Jon Brion, who played along with the premise (a squeaky-voiced "thanks mister") as he joined E on keyboards for a couple of tracks. "Climbing Up to the Moon" saw Jon adding a tiny touch of crotales, while "Everything's Going to Be Cool This Christmas" was graced with his backing vocals, and I believe we got a hint of "Jingle Bells" in the latter's outro. True to form, E groused about technical problems, but from our table, he sounded fine.

After a short break, Jon returned with a story about how he once pissed off the audience by doing Christmas songs in August. This turned out to be a bit of a warning; he started on the piano with what sounded like a deconstructed "Jingle Bells" but turned toward "Hot Fun in the Summertime" and "Surfer Girl" before returning to "Jingle Bells." Still at the piano, he churned out a very lovely piano opening that took a little while to coalesce into "Meaningless," complete with more Christmas cues.

Then it was over to the drums for a song build of "I Believe She's Lying" and, next, over to the harmonica, an electric guitar, and lots of slapback for--no, not "Why Do You Do This to Yourself." Rather, it was "Ruin My Day" in a treatment I hadn't heard before. Somewhere in there, Jon looked out at the room with a beatific grin--further assurance that we were in for a great night.

The drums got another workout with a song build of "Walking Through Walls," which featured a bluesy guitar breakdown toward the middle. "Hook Line and Sinker" came next on the electric guitar; I'm not sure if we owe the heavy metal touches around the end of the song to a musical misstep on Jon's part, but he proceeded without hesitation, a raised fist accompanying the power chords.

This unprecedented (for me) Meaningless streak continued with "Trouble" on piano, complete with a gorgeous extended jazzy instrumental passage. It brought to mind Brad Mehldau's turn on the song on the widely distributed Tonic bootleg, except less abstract, if that makes any sense. Regardless, it was gorgeous. After remaining on piano for "Same Mistakes," Jon shook it up with a song build of "Happy with You."

For the next selection, Jon tuned his guitar and asked us how our year went. He seemed surprised by our mostly positive reaction. When asked the same, he replied that his year had big ups and big downs, but they mostly cancelled themselves out. Somewhere during this lull, I blurted out a request to play the rest of Meaningless, and he sort of obliged with about one line from each of the remaining songs ("Her Ghost," "Voices," and "Gotta Start Somewhere," to be exact). Heh.

Jon resumed with a tribute to Les Paul, a familiar point of reference. A few minutes into the song, he explained that he could never reproduce Mary Ford's parts, so he brought out a guest who could: the actress Zooey Deschanel, who turned out to be as adorable as you can imagine. She quickly proved that she had a set of jazzy, sassy, and playful pipes to match her demeanor. Though she claimed that they messed up "Swing Low Sweet Chariot," I have absolutely no complaints about their five-song set. Zooey even ventured to the ukulele on the last selection, though she warned us that she didn't usually do so in front of people. Meanwhile, Jon added harmonies and a couple of guitar solos, but he mostly stayed in the background.

Jon closed out the set with a grunge-like "Knock Yourself Out" that featured a slowed-down coda, but not before promising us we'd get a second set--the first since his arm injury--in the spirit of holiday cheer.

Largo was seriously hopping in a way I hadn't seen in a long time, and I almost didn't know what to do with myself during the between-set break. Thankfully, Jon returned with a song build of "Girl I Knew," a tune that always reminds me of driving down the PCH. And with Jon wielding a hollow-body Rickenbacker, that Byrdsian, sun-kissed feel was never more apparent than it was tonight.

Benmont Tench was the first friend called up for the second set, and together, the two of them tackled a couple of songs I hadn't heard at Largo before. Next, Jon invited Zach Gray (sp?) to join them for "double-keyboard madness." Perched on the piano bench with Benmont, Zach was entrusted with the celeste and Jon's advice to "hit the black keys and magic happens." Zach delivered nicely on "Stop the World," one of Jon's more celeste-appropriate tunes, though we could see him peering back at Benmont for musical cues throughout the night.

E was the third recruit, and he took the drums--which Jon said was the only way to get a singer/songwriter to stay for the whole set. Judging from Largo appearances by Neil Finn, Robyn Hitchcock, and Gillian Welch, to name a few, I'd have to agree with him. The group took a little while to figure out what to do next, and though they floated the idea of a holiday song, they took it in the other direction with "Happiness Is a Warm Gun." We even got a bit of an audience singalong ("bang bang shoot shoot") on the chorus. Upon completing the song, they joked about testing E with its different time signatures, and in return, he quipped that they had to do "the Beatles' only prog song."

Jon informed the audience that the band took requests, and that's exactly how they picked up "Raspberry Beret." Jon claimed to not know the words, but he launched into the first verse anyway. When he could proceed no further, E assumed vocal duties, down to Prince's every whoop and trill. The audience kicked in too!

(An aside: Though I can't claim any definitive word on Largo's history, I can say that "Raspberry Beret" is a very popular request at Jon's shows, but I, for one, have never heard him actually play it. Until now.)

I can't remember how "Billie Jean" came about, only that Jon asked Gus (?) to join them. It soon became apparent that he didn't know the lyrics at all, though he was willing to make them up as he went along. Jon threatened to bring Flanagan up to sing and peered expectantly back to the kitchen for a glimpse of the big guy, but he happened to go MIA for the duration of the song. Instead, we got Jon and Gus sharing the lead, and we'll have to wait another day to hear Flanagan's vocal stylings.

Sean Watkins was the next guest on the block, and after a short conference, they invited Zooey back for "Frosty the Snowman." It didn't take long for her to exhaust her knowledge of the words to the song, so she spent about half the time vamping and calmly leafing through the lyrics book before finding the entry. Her spirited, lively take was vastly different from Fiona's interpretation the night before, but she made it her own. At her suggestion, they went with "Silent Night," though I'm not sure who decided to make it rockabilly. Regardless, it turned out to be unutterably cool.

By this point, Flanagan had managed to return and push Paul F. Tompkins back onstage for his song about Hanukkah sung to the tune of "Ring of Fire." If you saw Aimee Mann's recent Christmas shows, you'll know this song. Jon watched on, smiling directly at Paul the whole time.

After a brief huddle, Sean Watkins finally got his time in the sun with "Write Myself a Letter," with Jon contributing harmonies. And though it felt like no time had gone by, it was that dreaded closing hour, and Jon bestowed upon us a double dose of "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire," first done in a power pop style, then à la Sonic Youth to an alarmingly accurate degree.

At this rate, I may camp out at Largo all week next year.

Setlist:
Paul F. Tompkins (opener)

E (opener)
--Grace Kelly Blues
--It's a Motherfucker
--Climbing Up to the Moon [with Jon Brion]
--Everything's Going to Be Cool This Christmas [with Jon]

Jon Brion (set one)
--Hot Fun in the Summertime/Surfer Girl
--Meaningless
--I Believe She's Lying
--Ruin My Day
--Walking Through Walls
--Hook Line and Sinker
--Trouble
--Same Mistakes
--Happy with You
--The World Is Waiting for the Sunrise [with Zooey Deschanel]
--I Really Don't Want to Know [with Zooey]
--Swing Low Sweet Chariot [with Zooey]
--On the Sunny Side of the Street [with Zooey]
--I Can't Give You Anything but Love [with Zooey]
--Knock Yourself Out

Jon Brion + friends (set two)
--Girl I Knew
--My Back Pages [with Benmont Tench]
--I Go to Pieces [with Benmont]
--Stop the World [with Benmont and Zach Gray (?)]
--Happiness Is a Warm Gun [with Benmont, Zach, and E]
--Raspberry Beret [with Benmont, Zach, and E]
--Billie Jean [with Benmont, Zach, E, and Gus (?)]
--Frosty the Snowman [with Benmont, Zach, E, Gus, Zooey, and Sean Watkins]
--Silent Night [with Benmont, Zach, E, Gus, Zooey, and Sean Watkins]
--Paul F. Tompkins's Hanukkah song sung to the tune of "Ring of Fire" [with Benmont, Zach, E, Sean, and Paul]
--Write Myself a Letter [with Benmont, Zach, E, and Sean]
--Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire (power pop version) [with Benmont, Zach, E, and Sean]
--Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire (Sonic Youth version) [with Benmont, Zach, E, and Sean]

See also:
» let your heart be light
» public service announcement
» wherever there is comfort, there is pain
» Take Me Home, Country Pigeon
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, and Greg
» been hoping that you'd drop in
» it's not going to stop

her little heart it could explode

Three Jon Brion shows at Largo in three months--four, if you include the cameo with Nels Cline. By all indications, it seems that Jon's performance schedule is ramping up again, and his return couldn't be more welcome. Todd Carlin, a.k.a. the Naked Trucker, in his hilarious opening slot said something to the effect that Jon is back, and Flanagan echoed that sentiment in his introduction. If you didn't know better, you'd think that everything was back to normal, but I'm not ready to back off orange alert yet.

Jon Brion, Largo, September 29, 2006: We noticed a definite electricity in the air, long before Jon took the stage and even before Fiona Apple found her seat two tables behind us. I can't explain it, only that it didn't feel the same as last month's fairly low-key show, though it was still no competition for July's highly anticipated return. As it turned out, we were right.

Jon started out on piano for a lengthy instrumental passage that probably referenced a thousand artists and influences--none of which I could name, but I loved it nonetheless. When he seemed satisfied by that exercise, he reached up for the harmonica and breathed out an extended measure, kicking off "Ruin My Day." The crowd roared its approval as Jon delivered as soulful a version of the song as I can remember.

From the sublime to the ridiculous, Jon stayed on the piano for a couple of instrumentals, delivering "two cheesy covers for the price of one." He kicked about the keys-based implements and the crotales for a little while longer, but when he picked up the hammer, there was no mistaking what was coming next. Jon seemed more meticulous than usual laying down the rhythm for "Same Thing," but that meant we got to see more of him manipulating and tapping the innards for the desired effects.

The song build came next, and all sounded fine on "Happy with You" until the guitar came into play. Finally, Jon relinquished it and sat at the piano to sing, arms crossed. He hit the keys with abandon for a spell before trying the hollow-body guitar, but this time, the mic didn't agree with him, and he knocked it over--not the first time either. Somehow, Samy fixed it in time for Jon to turn in a few verses of "Pop Life," and I couldn't help thinking that the last time I heard Jon do that song, Kanye West had joined in. And then before you knew it, Jon was back at the piano, channeling Gershwin.

An audience member requested "Over Our Heads," and Jon gave it the usual treatment. That is, he sampled and layered his own voice for the background vocals, then piled on the vocoder for the actual melody. I think it's supposed to encourage an ethereal feel to the song, but I always find the vocoder detracts from the loveliness of the song.

For "Why Do You Do This to Yourself," Jon asked Scott in the soundbooth for more and more slapback, enough to "make both Sam Phillips proud." Jon dished out about a bar of "Stand By Your Man" (a request) on piano, while "Girl I Knew" featured a rock guitar outro that sounded new to me.

We had already seen Fiona, but we didn't know who else was hiding in the back, which is why I gasped when e from the eels emerged onstage. As anyone who reads this blog knows, the eels are one of my favorite live bands, and e is inextricably linked to my earliest Jon Brion shows. For six years, I've been hoping to catch e at Largo again, but the shows have eluded me--until tonight.

On the surface, e and Jon are an odd couple, but to see them together, you instantly pick up on their rapport and shared history. They threw faces at each other, told stories about each other, made jokes at the other's expense, and jokingly accused the other of sabotaging the show. If the setlist below looks abbbreviated, it's only because I couldn't capture the conversation between Jon and e.

Though they asked for requests, they didn't take most of our suggestions. On the bright side, they assured us it wasn't personal. E said he happened to learn "Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon" earlier that week, so they granted the request with a very funny version of the song. The subsequent call for "American Girl" inspired a mash-up with the lyrics: "American girl, you'll be a woman soon/Don't move to Europe."

We also got a number of eels songs and more guests. Dan McCarroll, formerly of the Grays and the same Dan in Aimee Mann's song "I've Had It" ("Dan came in from Jersey") joined them from "My Beloved Monster" and on, while Jon personally invited Terry Adams from NRBQ to join them for (my no-brainer request) "Not Ready Yet." Terry, of course, had never played the song in his life, but Jon unashamedly assured him that it had only three chords, and to prove it, he dictated the chords to him. Before long, Terry was throwing in his own embellishments as well; on the other side of the stage, Jon played bass and watched on with a huge grin on his face. When Terry seemed to take it down a notch, Jon roared at him to keep it going. For e's final song, they conferred for a long time until Terry suggested and kicked off one of his own, "Want You to Feel Good Too." Jon carried on with just Terry and Dan for "My Baby Left Me," and then with only Dan, he paid tribute to NRBQ with "Riding in My Car."

After Dan left the stage, Fiona was next, and the two of them spent a few minutes in a long embrace. From all indications, they hadn't rehearsed either, as they took a while to figure out which songs to perform. They settled on a couple of Fiona's usual standards but none of her own songs.

Jon closed with a song build, and lucky for me, it started with my favorite drumbeat ever. Tonight's rendition of "Tomorrow Never Knows" also featured Jon's amazing re-creation--courtesy of the slide guitar--of those chirping sounds on the original record. Somewhere around the middle, Jon asked Terry to return "to make some noise," which is exactly what he did. This went on for at least 15 minutes, if not longer. Toward the end, I heard references to "Peter Gunn" and maybe some other songs.

By then, it was almost 1 a.m. Friday nights may not be exactly the same yet, but it looks like we're getting ever closer.

The setlist:
--piano noodling
--Ruin My Day [piano + harmonica]
--Popcorn/Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies ("two cheesy covers for the price of one") [piano]
--Same Thing [piano, mellotron, celeste, keyboard]
--Happy with You/Pop Life/Rhapsody in Blue [song build]
--Over Our Heads [keyboard + vocoder]
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself [electric guitar]
--Stand By Your Man [piano]
--Girl I Knew [song build]
--Dirty Girl (with e)
--Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon (with e)
--My Beloved Monster (with e and Dan McCarroll)
--Not Ready Yet (with e, Dan McCarroll, and Terry Adams)
--Want You to Feel Good Too (with e, Dan McCarroll, and Terry Adams)
--My Baby Left Me (with Dan McCarroll and Terry Adams) [electric guitar]
--Riding in My Car (with Dan McCarroll) [electric guitar]
--On a Slow Boat to China (with Fiona Apple) [piano]
--Angel Eyes (with Fiona Apple) [piano]
--Tomorrow Never Knows (with Terry Adams) [song build]


See also:
» i like birds...and eels
» public service announcement
» it should be boredom by now
» i won't be denied
» top 5 Largo memories

i like birds...and eels

Paolo graciously humored me by hanging out in San Francisco one more day and catching another show.

eels, The Fillmore, May 31, 2006: I've bored many, many people with the story of how I first became an eels fan, but I'm nothing if not consistent. I was actually pretty sick of them in the mid-'90s, when the overflowing Dreamworks coffers afforded them a snazzy Mark Romanek video and overexposure on MTV. A shambolic (in a bad way) radio station gig confirmed my suspicions, and it would be another three years before I truly opened my ears to them, thanks to the wonderful environs of Largo. In fact, it was with a very heavy heart that I admitted I couldn't make their show at Largo with Zach Galifianakis on May 12.

Since then, I've tried to catch them every time they've come to San Francisco. I know I missed one show because it conflicted with a Wilco gig at the Fillmore, but on every other occasion, I've been rewarded with odd theatrics.

There was the show, for example, when E, acting frail and possibly blind, was physically escorted onstage by two roadies. That was also the show when, after the houselights had come up and the crew was moving their stuff offstage, they came back on for one more number. And the last time they came to the Fillmore, E kicked off the show not onstage but in a small booth at the back of the room. See why I'm in love??

So it was with much anticipation that I welcomed this show--and I wasn't disappointed. After the lights went down, a big, burly guy wearing a Security shirt (Krazy Al, I believe) took the stage, looked around, and beckoned the band to come up. He would be sort of a court jester for much of the evening, engaging in a wide range of activities: protecting E, doing calisthenics, lifting weights, and even playing instruments.

As for the eels, they were a different lineup than the other times I've seen them. I miss Butch a great deal, but in his place was Knuckles, a guy in a Civil War getup and an era-appropriate beard. In comparison, E and the other guitarist (the Chet?), looked fairly pedestrian in their standard-issue jumpsuits with aviator goggles.

We thought they were supposed to be promoting Eels with Strings Live at Town Hall, but in fact, they seemed fairly oblivious to their latest record. Instead, we got a good cross-section of their discography, including a reworked "My Beloved Monster" (heavy on the organ), the awesome "Last Stop: This Town," a raucous (and Jon Brion cowritten) "Not Ready Yet," and a few from Blinking Lights. More surprising, however, were the choice of covers. We heard, among others, Peaches' anthem "Rock Show" and the old standard "I Put a Spell on You" with a huge nod to Screamin' Jay Hawkins.

And to cap it off, toward the end of the show, Krazy Al donned a latex glove and made his way to the edge of the stage--to high-five random audience members (Paolo!). One of the roadies handed him a can of whipped cream, and continuing the crowd participation, he squirted it into the mouths of all who wanted it (me included).

The young sister duo Smoosh opened the show with their spunky and cute songs. I give them credit for not going the Hillary Duff route, even if some tunes started to blur together. They got a dedication from the eels during the latter's set and even returned to the stage for the encore, which saw them dancing to the music, taunting and eventually winning over Krazy Al, and contributing vocals to "I Like Birds."

But it's still not over, folks. They faked us out again and returned to the stage for one more song, "Saturday Morning," after the lights went up. My love affair with this band continues.

See also:
» public service announcement
» top 5 Largo memories

public service announcement

I had a reservation for a Largo show today, but word on the street is that Jon Brion is suffering tendinitis, so all his shows are currently on hold. Though this makes me very sad, I hope he gets better and comes back healthy and happy. Also, it gives me an opportunity to dig up an old e-mail I wrote about my first full-fledged Jon Brion show.

Jon Brion, Largo, December 17, 1999: My Largo roots are somewhat murky. I know I initially came for Grant Lee Phillips's shows, but the main bone of contention has to do with the year. I can't recall if it was 1998 or 1999. Regardless, I believe my friends and I saw Jon Brion pop in at three separate Grant shows before we took the plunge and checked him out for ourselves. The edited report follows.

Subject: Jon Brion
Dec. 21, 1999

[Jon] did a bunch of songs from his album, most of which are piano-driven numbers, though he took up the electric guitar for a few of them. The tunes are very songwriterly, ranging from delicate, introspective tunes to barroom rockers, but they're not really Jon's selling point. Simply, Jon is the most amazing musician I've ever seen. I've attended other shows where he's pitched in and added all kinds of flourishes and touches to other people's songs. The highlight of his set was a medley of songs, with him on the piano and Butch (from the eels) on drums. They started off with some Chuck Berry-esque song, went into the Pink Panther theme, segued into Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water," threw in a touch of Foreigner's "Hot Blooded," and rolled into the Ronettes' "Be My Baby" (and those are only the songs I could identify) before a circuit blew by his piano, at which point he screamed, "Y2K!"

Jon also created his own wall of sound for the very last song. He had a full band setup on stage, but he also had two little contraptions that made a hell of a difference during the set. He used both of them throughout the show, but I noticed it the most at the end. One looked like a tiny Casio keyboard. On the last song, he sang a range of notes into it, then combined all of his vocals into a choirlike effect, so that he was basically backing himself, though there was no one else onstage. The other little gizmo was a sampler of some sort. He created his own rhythm tracks with this one. It's kind of hard to describe, but he sampled something from the piano for the last song, and all of a sudden, he had a wall of sound behind him (again, he was the only person onstage). Then he started an old record player with a scratchy needle and ran a couple of music boxes, all for this one song.

It should come as a surprise to no one that the the last description refers to a breathtaking version of "Voices," still my favorite performance of it ever.

Do you want to hear the kicker? Apparently, the week before, it was Jon's 36th birthday, and just about every Largo-related superstar showed up. Hey, it only took me another five years to finally see Neil Finn at Largo! But I've been able to find a cool bootleg of the show when I want to relive the memories. Thus, I present you with an MP3 of the medley described above:
» Jon Brion, "Be My Baby" medley

Enjoy! One of these days, I'll put up the "Mission Impossible/Now I Know My ABC's/Baba O'Riley" medley from the same show.

See also:
» public service non-announcement
» top 5 Largo memories
» the Book of Brion 2 has landed
» top 10 concerts of 2005
» Take Me Home, Country Pigeon

top 5 Largo memories

Believe it or not, I have a life apart from Largo, but it's not particularly blogworthy. Also, I'm trying to up my Google ranking. Thanks for checking back, folks.

Before this year, my Largo attendance record was somewhat spotty. Cut me some slack--San Francisco isn't that close to Los Angeles, especially when you work regular hours, Monday through Friday. I think my previous record for most Largo shows in a year was five. This year has blown that number out of the water, and I count my lucky stars that my friends are willing to put up with me just so that they can enjoy good music.

This recent run has inspired me to put together a small list. This is not meant to be inclusive; there are too many memories of silly singalongs, granted requests, star cameos, and inspired musicianship to include here. Also, in the grand scheme of things, I've barely been to Largo at all, but I like to think I've had some good times. Without further ado:

5. Jon Brion playing a Halloween set in a skeleton suit (October 31, 2003): It was around this time that Jon was doing his "songbook" Thursdays in addition to his regular Friday gigs in alleged preparation for his tour.

Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Wow, that felt good, but let's return to the story. Back then, I had different rules about rock tourism (most of which have now gone out the window), and I recognized the opportunity to see two Jon Brion shows in one trip to the southland. So I caught his Thursday night show with the Section and darkened Largo's doorstep the next night for Jon's regular set.

The opener was Kennedy doing a pretty funny imitation of Jon, followed by the man himself. When he hit the stage, he wore his usual clothes, but during the extended opener of Halloween-themed songs, he started stripping, finally revealing--no, not his birthday suit--but a full-length skeleton costume underneath. He proceeded to play the rest of the set with the costume, oversize skeleton hands and all. My cousin claims this remains one of her favorites of the shows she's seen.

That night was unusual, for a couple of reasons. First off, Jon did only one set. As I recall, he claimed that it was all this "bag of bones" could be expected to do. Also, it was the only time I've ever been seen Largo not full on a Friday night. Later, as we drove down Santa Monica Boulevard and saw the Halloween revelers, it became obvious why.

4. E and Mary Lynn Rajskub chasing an adorable dog through club.
This is where my memory gets fuzzy. In late 1999 and early 2000, Lina and I saw a couple of Jon Brion gigs where members of the eels showed up. I think at one, Butch was the opener, and for his "act," he read selections from the British edition of Penthouse Forum (or was it Penthouse Letters?). For both, E opened, previewing songs from the then-unreleased Daisies of the Galaxy.

It was at one of these shows that during Jon's set, a big, fluffy, white puppy ran through the audience, trailed closely by E and Mary Lynn. I'm pretty sure the same dog is one of the cover stars of the eels' Souljacker. In retrospect, I probably should've been disturbed that the dog was anywhere near the kitchen, but as I remind everyone, you don't come to Largo for the food.

3. Kanye West joins Jon Brion onstage (March 18, 2005). Largo owes part of its legendary status to the stories of luminaries showing up just for the hell of it, but let's face it--most of the people who hit the stage aren't exactly household names and are certainly not MTV regulars. Kanye West, however, doesn't fit the Largo mold. Even now, when I try to tell the uninitiated about Largo, most of them don't have any idea of how amazing the place is until I mention Kanye.

I wrote up a fuller account when this happened, but my appreciation of that night has only grown since the original date. I admit that Kanye's guest appearance in September was cooler (complete with Jon Brion throwing a Rocafella diamond!), but back in March, all we knew was that a certified Grammy-winning, platinum-selling artist was on the Largo stage. It took a little while to put the pieces together, but thankfully, Late Registration hints at the awesomeness of that night.

2. Neil Finn (February 20, 2004)! My previous blog pretty much says it all. I still pinch myself at the memory. Eeeeeeeee!!!

Drum roll, please....

1. Grant Lee Phillips, Jon Brion, and Robyn Hitchcock making up songs about pigeons (Summer 1999). You know it has to be a good night that keeps a Neil Finn surprise appearance off the top of the list! I'm pretty sure that at this point, I was going to Largo explicitly for Grant's shows and was not yet a Jon Brion acolyte, though I was already familiar with his talents and his knack for dropping in on friends. I also recall that I had just seen Robyn at the Fillmore on the combined tour with the Flaming Lips, Sebadoh, and Sonic Boom, among others earlier that week, and I guess that the tour was in LA that week, thus offering him a chance to join his musical friends.

I can't even begin to remember the full hijinks of the evening, but deeply ingrained in my temporal lobe is the vision of Grant, Jon, and Robyn crammed on the Largo stage, taking requests and making up songs about pigeons. My favorite title of the night: "Take Me Home, Country Pigeon." There was a tune about the dearly departed species, the passenger pigeon, as well.

I think this was my first true taste of the beauty and inspired lunacy of Largo. Even now, with about three dozen trips to Largo under my belt, I don't think I've seen such a musical spectacle. Sure, Grant's solo shows were great, and seeing him play with Jon opened my eyes to a certain extent, but with Robyn Hitchcock, they took it to at least two more new levels. Everyone always says Jon's shows are impossible to describe until you've seen one; on that note, there's simply no way I can try to capture the memories of that evening. I'm just going to have to leave it at that. And I haven't even touched on the Eyes Wide Shut parody that opened the evening.

So there you have it, folks. Here's to many more. Won't you join me?

See also:
» i won't be denied
» i can teach you, but i have to charge
» get a load of the lengths I go to
» unplug the jukebox and do us all a favour
» Take Me Home, Country Pigeon