never perfected the simian stroll

Rocktober is pretty great around here, but if you're lucky, the touring goodness extends into the next month, as bands make their last journeys across the country before winter arrives. Unfortunately, November doesn't have a catchy musical nickname, so we'll have to enjoy it on its own merits and for such occasions as the return of Elbow to the Fox Theater in Oakland.

Elbow, Fox Theater, November 13, 2017

I have no idea how the music industry works anymore -- how bands break through or even how they decide when and where to tour and which cities will be the hot ticket. In fact, the original plan to see Elbow in Washington, DC, fell through partly because the gig sold out almost immediately (also: employment instability on my part). Once upon a time, Elbow didn't come to the United States much, but now it seems like they've hit a three-year cycle of tours. Hey, I'm not complaining; I'm glad to see them gaining fans along the way. Oddly, Elbow's show happened to coincide with Liam Gallagher playing San Francisco on his first solo tour of the States. I can only imagine the dilemma that dedicated Mancophiles (?) had to face as they chose between Our Kid and Our Other Kid. I stand by my decision wholeheartedly.

I'm completely removed from the UK music scene these days, so I don't know what size crowds Elbow plays to back in England, but a venue like the Fox seems to be a good fit for them over here. Back in the days when I saw them at Bimbo's (though minus the Independent gig I missed because the show sold out before I could buy a ticket), they clearly needed a bigger stage, not only because of the size of their band, but also the size of their sound and ambitions. The Fox gives them exactly that, and this time, they filled the room all the way up to the balcony pretty well.

I've read the prog-rock labels applied to Elbow, but I simply don't care. They've always been a band of sweeping sounds, strong emotions, and evocative lyrics, anchored by a charismatic singer. You might be surprised by the rarity of the combination when you listen to as much indie rock as I do. Anyway, that formula hasn't diminished on this go-around, and in fact, the addition of two new female violinists/backup singers further upped the musical bonafides.

Speaking of indie bands, I spent much of my formative years as a concert-goer watching bands who barely acknowledged the audience, much less themselves. We're talking shoegazers, by genre and by self-indentification. To this day, I feel a bit self-conscious when the rock ritual begins, whether it's a call and response or waving arms or whatever. Mind you, I do it too, but a part of me notes the silliness and the mob mentality (before I decide to do it anyway).

Elbow has a lot of this. Guy Garvey urges you to wave your arms often, and sometimes we clap (which I actually love), and I'd probably whistle along to "Lippy Kids" if I could carry more than two notes in a huff. It's an observation of behavior I don't indulge in a ton at the shows I typically attend.

Another funny thing about this show: Guy urged us to sing along for a few tunes. In fact, it became a running joke as he implored more than once, "If you know the words, sing along. If you don't know the words, sing along." But one of his chosen tracks, "My Sad Captains," was incredibly wordy! It took at least three swings through the chorus before most of the crowd (or maybe just me) could reasonably fake our way through it. Fortunately, we took up the slack with beloved tunes like "The Birds" and "One Day Like This."

By my calculations, Elbow will be back in 2020. If we're still here, I look forward to the next round of waving, clapping, and singing along.

See also:
» give us G&T and sympathy
» one day like this a year
» throw those curtains wide

give us G&T and sympathy

Hey, I'm back from vacation, which means I'm done saving for vacation, and I'm free to spend money on concert tickets again. How was the holiday? (Thanks for asking!) It was great, and my legs are so tan now (quite a feat in the land of fog). But I have to be honest: I was ready to come home and wear clean clothes. The prospect of catching Elbow at the Fox Theater didn't hurt either.

Elbow, Fox Theater, May 27, 2014: I've said it before: I don't know how people hear music anymore. Personally, I cling to an old-fashioned mix of friends' recommendations (kind of), industry buzz (to a certain extent), and KEXP podcasts (weekly), but it's an imperfect system. At the Elbow concert, I asked around because so many people in proximity were newbies -- though not to other concerts I've attended. One woman cited Peter Gabriel's patronage, which isn't a surprise, given the sound of the first album. Her son also mentioned the use of Elbow's music in a couple of video games.

I bring this up because this was easily the biggest paying audience I'd yet seen Elbow play to in the United States (Hardly Strictly Bluegrass doesn't count), and frankly, the venue was a tad too large for them. They probably should've played the Warfield, but the Fox kept it cozy by closing off the upper section of seats (a move the Warfield might want to borrow, judging by the Frightened Rabbit show last fall, to name one recent gig).

Elbow rose to the occasion, regardless of raw numbers. The normally five-piece band added a couple of ladies on strings, to fully augment their grand, sweeping sound. But of course, the attention remained on the core players, particularly Guy Garvey. He wasted no time on welcoming us personally and paying respect to the Fox. Is it crowd work? Maybe, but it was an unabashed success.



I don't get to the Fox a whole lot, so I don't know where the bar is set for a theater-size show, but Elbow's production was impressive and probably borrowed elements from its stadium presentation abroad. In addition to the extra musicians, they poured on a light show and pretty stage adornments, including the album cover blown up as the backdrop and a single mirrorball hanging from the rafters for -- what else? -- "Mirrorball."

Looking at the setlist, the band played a relatively short set, at least compared to some of the bands I favor, especially one with so many records in its catalog: 15 songs in all. On the other hand, their tunes are dense, complex affairs, and the 15 songs probably packed the power of at least 20 from any other group. At some point in a band's career, they are no longer able to perform every song that the fans may want to hear and must cherry-pick among their titles. I understand this, but I'm a tiny bit miffed we got only one song from the first record ("Scattered Black and Whites") and didn't hear perhaps my favorite Elbow song of all, "Station Approach." Waaaaah!

But among the songs played, you couldn't say they were anything less than balls-out performances. Every song felt like an experience, helped both by the musical onslaught of seven musicians playing together and by Guy's encouragement to sing along, wave our arms, and clap to the beat. In anyone else's hands, this might've been manipulation. At an Elbow show, it instead feels like the most natural action you can take.

What Elbow's audience may have lacked in sheer numbers, they made up for in enthusiasm and ardor. As a fool who has to stand in the front at every show, I don't have the best sense of the crowd reaction. Usually, the people around me eat it up, but the rest of the crowd might be sitting on their hands, for all I know. Quite simply, this was not possible at the Elbow show, at least not with Guy pointing at people in the crowd and urging the balcony to get up out of their seats. By your command, Mr. Garvey, including the guy who accidentally knocked me in the back of the head while caught up in the full throes of emotion. (He earnestly apologized.)



I can't highlight only one song from the show, so I'll mention several. From the new album, The "Fly Boy Blue/Lunette" mashup is fantastic to hear, particularly how the two halves align. "The Birds" is always a jawdropper, from its hypnotic intro to its cathartic build to the soaring refrain. If you're going to bang your head at an Elbow show, this is the song for you! "Grounds for Divorce" also delivers a visceral thrill, with a snarling tone that might even come close to the topic under discussion. As a total pushover, though, I'll cite the the encore of "Lippy Kids" and "One Day Like This" as the best closing combination you could hope for.

I probably fixate on Guy way too much at Elbow shows, but he lives up to his role as frontman. An informal poll of friends after the gig reached the same conclusion. Guy is truly magnetic, but lest you think it's an ego show, I'd like to mention each band member gets a share of the spotlight. In fact, Guy practically opened the show with a multiple-choice question addressing the Band-Aid on Pete Turner's head. I think the general consensus said Pete had saved a grandma and her kitties from a burning building, but I suspect the Queens of the Stone Age may have been involved in the mishap.



Watching Guy, I was reminded of a quote I read a million years ago in an interview with -- don't laugh -- Simon LeBon. As I recall, he asserted there are very few true lyricists; most musicians get away with a good line or lines, but a fully detailed train of thought is a rarity. I'm going to slot Guy Garvey into this rare category of lyricist. Listen to "Lippy Kids," and revel in the mix of observation and identification with the young charges -- then try to tell me you haven't been there at some point in your life.

I don't assume we'll get to see Elbow in a mere two years from now, but should they return, I can easily imagine whole roomfuls of fans clamoring to hear from them, no matter where they play.



John Grant opened the show, and even with his stripped-down arrangements, he was a good match for the band. He too delivered raw, emotional songs about loves lost and unmet expectations, though with a more sardonic view. "Sigourney Weaver" and "GMF" went over quite well, but his fans in the audience welcomed every song with hoots and cries.

See also:
» one day like this a year
» throw those curtains wide

one day like this a year

Rocktober has arrived, and in San Francisco, that means Hardly Strictly Bluegrass is in session. This marks the 11th year of the festival, and by those standards, I'm a relative newcomer, but I can't imagine my year without this grand gathering. Also, it gives me a reason to never move out of the Richmond District.

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, September 30 to October 23, 2011: Certainly, there's more than one way to navigate a free, sprawling music festival that's intended to mix genres, audiences, and generations, but I do it the only way I know how: by trying to impose some order on the vast list of activities and expanse of land. This year, it meant not really sleeping Friday night and hopping on a 7 am flight so that I could get home, pull myself together, and wander down to Golden Gate Park by noon.

From there, the day became a little easier, and I managed to flit between stages for a number of bands. For me, Robyn Hitchcock kicked off the festival at the Rooster Stage. Once again, I didn't make it to the field proper; the hillside was just fine, and this time, the sound was great -- or maybe it was the simple acoustic setup.



Robyn started out by himself with "Cynthia Mask", but he was first joined by Abigail Washburn, then by Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. The quartet carried off a fine selection of Robyn's back catalog, from his work with the Egyptians ("Queen Elvis," "Balloon Man") to the Venus 3 ("Ole Tarantula"). Robyn even worked up the San Francisco angle with a nod to Magnum Force in "(A Man's Gotta Know His Limitations) Briggs" and with the concluding Grateful Dead cover ("Candyman"). Little did I know it wouldn't be the last of Robyn over the weekend.

Following Robyn's set, I headed out to catch another British icon: Hugh Laurie. Look, I don't typically favor actor/musicians, but I'm not automatically opposed to them either, and no, I'm not trying to cover my ass in case certain thespians decide to hit the road. Heck, I actually like She & Him.

But about Hugh Laurie -- first of all, the crowd was huge for the Towers of Gold stage, usually one of the less populated areas of the park. I heard more than one person yelling out for Dr. House (I've never watched the show myself), and at least one woman admitted she had no idea he was British until that very moment. This is all superfluous, though. Hugh Laurie's performance was surprisingly good. A fellow next to me likened Hugh's first number to Cab Calloway, and his voice was quite expressive. His backing band was solid, and overall, they did a great job.

I ran out for a little bit but returned in time to hear snippets of the Kris Kristofferson/Merle Haggard set before finding an inadequate spot for Broken Social Scene. I haven't cooled on the band since their last date in San Francisco, but as this was my casual day and I had a ticket for their show at the Fillmore the same evening, I didn't want to squeeze my way up front. Instead, I found a spot in the midfield. My mistake -- the chatter and the traffic were distracting, though I guess you have to expect that of a free event.



Broken Social Scene put together a standard festival set, heavy with selections from the most recent record. However, they still managed to surprise me with the inclusion of several seminal You Forgot It in People tracks, including "Shampoo Suicide." I thought for sure I'd never get to hear this one live again and, more important for my blog, to publicly air my pretentious rock critic theory: Come on, people, it's totally a cross between Fleetwood Mac's "Gypsy" and Malcolm McLaren's "Madame Butterfly" -- and that's high praise!

After Broken Social Scene, I took a swing through the rest of the park. Along the way, I heard one song in Gillian Welch's set, but fortunately, it was my favorite track from the new record, "Hard Times." I eventually ended up back at the Rooster Stage overlook for a portion of the Punch Brothers, who also covered a song from the latest Gillian Welch album. In the past, I've heard them do "Wayside/Back in Time," but they've added "Down Along the Dixie Line" to their repertoire, sped up about five-fold. The Punch Brothers may have been the only bluegrass artists I saw during this entire bluegrass-leaning festival, and in case I had any doubts about the genre's popularity, the dancing crowds inside the rooster pen dispelled all such thoughts.

That was Saturday, but Sunday was another story, with one goal: Elbow! With Julie's early foothold, we were able to make steady progress through Dr. John and Devotchka until we were at the front for the headliners, and thanks to the convenient PA setup, we heard Emmylou Harris join Buddy Miller for his set, as well as Bob Mould's show on the abutting stage. I love it when a plan comes together.

According to my records, Elbow hasn't toured here in three years. They do well enough in England, but they're not exactly superstars, and obviously, their profile is lower in the United States. And let's not even raise the question of how they were booked for an ostensibly bluegrass festival. I'm willing to leave that stone unturned, but I was suspicious of the crowd that gathered at the rail for Elbow's set. However, through the simple act of reaching out and communicating, it turns out they were committed fans, even if -- ahem! -- many of them had never caught the band live before. (Bonus: They were really nice people too.) Hey, I feel like I haven't really seen a band until their fifth appearance anyway, so we were practically on the same level.

Elbow had an hour to cast their spell, but the magic took hold within seconds. I've said it before: Guy Garvey is charm incarnate, and his very presence immediately puts you at ease. He works the crowd like a champ, pointing and waving at far corners of the field, making connections with far-flung audience members. I wouldn't presume that the San Francisco audience is the first to receive such attention, but it still feels sincere. As usual, we were eating out of their hand, as well as lending our voices, whistles, and handclaps of support. According to Guy, the feelings were mutual, as he heaped praise on our city and the festival itself toward the end of their slot.

Elbow crafts dense, complex, and sprawling songs, and I wondered how much actual music we'd get to hear between Guy's lilting banter. Clearly, there was no way to represent their entire discography in this limited set, and as it turned out they favored the last couple of records. I don't think we heard a single early track, which is a small loss, but "Lippy Kids" managed to push a bunch of emotional buttons in me. Also, I have to admit The Seldom Seen Kid deserves as much attention as you can spare. For my favorite artists such as Elbow, more is always better, but Hardly Strictly Bluegrass will tide me over until the next headlining tour.



See also:
» throw those curtains wide
» talking trash under your breath
» don't get around much anymore

throw those curtains wide

If forced to name an early signal of my decline as a concert-goer (aside from shows by that one band or that one guy), I'd single out Elbow's tour of the United States a couple of years ago, when I failed to get tickets before the gig sold out. Oh how I rued that day. Fortunately, the band has returned with a new album and with plenty of tickets to go around.

Elbow, Bimbo's 365 Club, May 8, 2008: I first saw Elbow opening for Doves, and their bond was easily evident, notably in their penchant for crafting sweeping, atmospheric songs with a strong rhythm-based foundation (for British bands, anyway). Elbow, however, could lay claim to one other asset: Guy Garvey, for his lyricism, his vocals, and his outright charm.

I mean, I love Doves, and they remain high on my list of favorite bands (which is saying a lot when I haven't seen them play in three years), but I'm not blind to their weaker points. That is, you get the distinct impression that they're more at home in the studio than playing in front of people. What they may lack in onstage charisma, however, they compensate for in terms of pure musical power.



I'm not averse to that arrangement, but a little bit of personality has its rewards. Guy Garvey has more than a hint of this allure. Hailing from Manchester -- a city not known for its charm -- he possesses an understated, natural magnetism that never feels forced and that appeals to both men and women. More than one declaration of love this evening came from a dude. Also, Guy's lyrics are often breathtaking in their detail and pathos.

However, Elbow hasn't sustained my interest as well as Doves, and it's not just the lack of tour time either. For whatever reason, the songs haven't hit me in quite the same manner as the earlier albums. Then again, a band's recorded output is only one factor of its appeal, and it may have nothing to do with whether I care to see them live.

In that regard, Elbow still makes for a compelling live band. Tonight, they started off with a trumpet flare, as each of the five band members lifted a cornet to the roof and blew a note to kick off the proceedings with "Starlings," the lead-off track from The Seldom Seen Kid. From there, the set highlighted tracks from the latest album, with a few older tunes, including "Mexican Standoff," "Leaders of the Free World," and "Newborn."

The most beseeching audience requests were for "Powder Blue," coming from at least one person on my side of the room, as well as someone from the opposite half. There were probably more, but their voices were the loudest and the most persistent. To the dude on the other side of the stage, Guy shared his reason for turning down the offer; I'm going to mangle his hilarious retort, so I'll only mention it involved testicles.



At the very end, Guy urged us to give into cheesiness (note: I love cheese) and sing along to "One Day Like This" from the new album. At least from where I stood, the crowd didn't hesitate to follow his instructions. In fact, the outpouring of voices, requests, and general affection from the audience put me to shame, but it also made me glad to know that they're still winning over American audiences. With any luck, I'll once more buy tickets in time when they next return.

See also:
» here comes the action