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

it's time that we grow old and do some shit

Hey gang, I'm not dead yet, and despite my reduced concert schedule, I couldn't resist the opportunity to see Broken Social Scene in its latest incarnation at the Fox Theater in Oakland. Oh Canada!

Broken Social Scene, Fox Theater, October 26, 2017

In perhaps my favorite episode of 30 Rock, "Cougars," Liz Lemon goes on a date with a much younger man, and when he tries to convince her to hit an afterparty, she pleads, "I'm 37, don't make me go to Brooklyn." As Liz Lemon is my spirit animal, I know exactly how she feels, except I'm no longer 37 and substitute Oakland for Brooklyn. You have to make a pretty good case for me to venture over the Bay Bridge (or, more precisely, under it, via BART) for a show. Broken Social Scene offers a solid argument for the trek.

Last time Broken Social Scene came around, they were on ostensibly their last tour, but even then, they admitted that they weren't so much breaking up as taking a breather. Even if they hadn't said it, I would've assumed that was the case, what with the modern trend of bands reuniting again ... and again. In addition, I imagine that's the nature of such a loose collective. Band members are free to come and go to pursue their own projects, so you can't bank on a set schedule. In any case, I was glad to see them back. Even if the band hadn't returned, I would've been entirely happy with my last memory of them: a lengthy, sprawling show, filled with guest musicians, friendly tributes, and family shout-outs that fell slightly short of a free-for-all.

In the years since, Broken Social Scene hasn't pared back much, as far as I can tell. I didn't bother to count the warm bodies on stage, but most of the principals were present, including Kevin Drew, Brendan Canning, and Andrew Whiteman. Often the question with Broken Social Scene is which female collaborators will show up; tonight, only Ariel Engle, who happens to be married to Andrew Whiteman and plays a major role on the new record Hug of Thunder. Personally, it's not a huge concern for me, and Ariel has a lovely voice in her own right.

The band mixed up the song selection, with old favorites such as "Fire Eye'd Boy" and the beloved closer "It's All Gonna Break," as well as choice tracks from the latest album. "Hug of Thunder" is the standout track for me, and it's kind of a no-brainer to do "Protest Song," but the big takeaway for me were the Forgiveness Rock Record tunes. Maybe I didn't give it enough time? Because hearing "Texico Bitches" and "World Sick" reminded me that album has great songs.

Of course I'm going to go back to You Forgot It in People again and again because it remains one of my favorite records of this century. Fortunately, the band seems to like it too, as a significant portion of the show was devoted to those tracks, including the opener "KC Accidental" and the closers "Lover's Spit" and "Cause = Time." By the way, I admit I often can't remember the titles -- much less the words -- to Broken Social Scene songs, but in the case of "KC Accidental" (for one) I can easily hum the bass line and guitar track. Needless to say, I love it. Ariel handled the vocals for "Almost Crimes," and the two women from the opening band Belle Game joined her for "Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl," which I'm glad to see has been acknowledged as a modern masterpiece. Brendan took his usual turn on "Stars and Sons" as well (another fantastic bass line, in case you hadn't noticed).

The last however many times I've seen Broken Social Scene, they've lingered past the usual curfew, and this show was no different, even if not quite to the lengths of the marathon at the Fillmore (or the Warfield, now that I think of it). Kevin polled us on which song we wanted to hear: the aforementioned "Lover's Spit" or "Cause = Time." As noted above, we got both, which isn't much of a surprise considering the band's more-is-more approach to performance.

For "Lover's Spit," Kevin came down from the stage and wandered into the crowd, even giving hugs to several fans, kind of like a Canadian version of Bono, minus the pomp (though he touched on political themes, as he reminded us that Canada continues to support the United States, especially in such trying times). I had voted for "Lover's Spit" because the song's majesty and drama always get me, but I admit the energy of "Cause = Time" seals up a show much better, and it lets us sing "fuck the cause" at the top of our lungs. Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the Fox Theater staff, who helped Kevin over the barrier and back as if they'd been practicing it all tour. They were so smooth.

Broken Social Scene managed to rotate in two different sets of brass players, which seems excessive even for Broken Social Scene, but more has always been more with them. As always, a grand night with my favorite Canadian collective 🇨🇦 🍁🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

A post shared by pneyu (@pneyu) on Oct 27, 2017 at 8:52pm PDT

Speaking of Kevin, how underrated is he? We tend to think of Broken Social Scene as a collective, and if anyone gets individual attention, it's usually the female singers who pass through the group, but you have to give credit to the guy who is the glue of the band. Also, his voice is damn good. In fact, I almost never get FOMO, but the pangs hit me not long ago when he joined Zach Galifianakis for a handful of shows at Largo.

I'll end with perhaps the most Broken Social Scene -- er, scene I may have yet witnessed in the Bay Area. They started the show with Antibalas as the horn section, but the group had to rush off to its own show at the New Parish in Oakland after a couple of numbers. Somehow, they found another brass ensemble to help close out the show! I can't remember their name, but leave it to Broken Social Scene to up the ante. I can't wait to see how they top it next time they come back.

See also:
» the good times are killing me
» talking trash under your breath

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

tired of being exposed to the cold

With two of three shows out of the way, Wilco's gigs in the Bay Area had already surpassed the dates in Los Angeles. Would the Fox Theatre in Oakland complete this Northern California hat trick? Find out below!

Wilco, the Fox Theatre, January 31, 2012: Several years ago, I overheard a conversation between a guy and his concert companion as the former pointed out an older man. The object of his attention, he informed her: Frank Riley. All of a sudden, several dots connected in my mind -- that was the man responsible for booking many of my favorite acts! Now I can't stop spotting him at shows, both near and far, and I've nursed a daydream of slipping him a note reading, "Wilco. Three nights. Fox Theatre." Fortunately, he saved himself from my folly with this gig, as well as the pair that preceded it.

Ever since the Wiltern debacle, we'd been joking about surprise admission fees, but the Bay Area venues proved refreshingly equitable and respectful, with the Fox Theatre perhaps taking top honors. The fellow who welcomed us at an ungodly hour directed us to the right spot, without a hint of judgment, and the other workers who trickled in throughout the day were just as open and helpful. Even better, though the Fox's attached bar was slinging drinks before the doors opened, there was no horseplay or favoritism. We nitwits marched in first and on schedule. Props to Another Planet! And that's not even mentioning the proximity to Bakesale Betty, Xolo, Rudy's Can't Fail Cafe, and the Sears bathrooms. If only they could've added a few degrees to the thermometer?

Once the crowds settled in, it became apparent to me that I'd make an awful booking agent. Wilco could probably sell out two nights at the Fox, especially for a weekend engagement, but they'd push their luck with three nights. Mr. Riley, the floor remains yours.

In all other respects, the Fox provided a wonderful bookend to the weekend-plus, with a setlist encompassing such beauties as "Spiders" and "One Wing," as well as titles that hadn't been aired up north, such as "Muzzle of Bees," "Theologians," and "Wilco (The Song)." As a fan of obvious plays for the audience, I ate it up when Jeff changed the lyrics to "Kingpin" to "Living in/Oakland," and I loved that the crowd knew when to roar along without prodding from the band. In fact, the whole dumb rock song encore was a great way to go out.

The general consensus among our circle placed this show as the best of the local gigs, owing to the grand surroundings, the audience adulation, and the band's spark. My bias may show, but I'm sticking with San Jose as my favorite of the trifecta. However, it's the contrast between the three, even the oddly somber San Francisco date, that keeps me coming back. In the end, Oakland gets a bonus point, if only for Jeff's comment that they miss the Bay Area when they're gone. The feeling is mutual, in case he can't tell.

See also:
» thank you for nothing at all
» my mother's sister's husband's brother
» one sunday morning

form a line to the throne

The blog lives! This summer has turned out to be one of semi-austerity; coupled with my low concert drive these days--well, let's say I don't get out much. Of course, there's always an exception, and the New Pornographers' first show in Oakland--at the Fox Theater, no less--does that to me.

The New Pornographers, Fox Theater, July 18, 2010: You have to admit that when the New Pornographers entered the scene, their "supergroup" label was a bit of a misnomer. Honestly, aside from a handful of zine-reading acolytes, how many people could even name the parent bands from which they derived?

These days, they more than live up to that title, with their own groups and thriving careers, most notably Carl Newman, Dan Bejar, and Neko Case. As rock 'n' roll cliches go, this outside success is supposed to breed jealousy and rivalry, but for whatever reason, the New Pornographers have seemed to thrive with these extra commitments. I suppose the band's commercial viability doesn't hurt either, but I take Dan, Neko, and Carl's continued presence to be a good omen of the New Pornographers' future.

Another good sign (literally): the eponymous bulb-encrusted notice at the back of the stage. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the same one we saw three years ago, but I hope they keep it or a reasonable facsimile around--for the glamor factor, if nothing else.



I see certain musicians--sometimes again and again--simply because I like them, but for the purposes of this blog, I try to take a more scholarly (boring) approach, pointing out changes and developments since the last concert. Of course, there's the new album Together to promote, and based on cursory listens, I notice a more aggressive sound ("Your Hands Together") on this record than on its predecessor. That's as deep as I get, though; the New Pornographers (Carl, particularly) throw out so many words and in such labyrinthine patterns that I tend to gloss over the lyrics until the chorus bores its way into my brain. That pattern holds with early singles such as "Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk" and "Crash Years," which can easily join the New Pornographers' roster of greatest hits--or whatever constitutes such a collection in indie rock circles.

Speaking of lyrics, we got a telling confession from the band when Carl, Neko, and Kathryn all admitted they never get the words to "Twin Cinema" right. The song is rife with references to San Francisco, and it led to a segment when the band pandered to local interests. Carl and Kathryn unconvincingly worked in references to the A's and Jose Canseco, respectively, but I still give them an A for effort.

Carl and Neko are, of course, indispensable to the show, and Neko, as always, garnered the majority of squeals and confessions of love. As for Carl, if you're at a New Pornographers show and don't realize that he's written most of the words and notes, then I don't know why you even bothered showing up. However, Dan Bejar's increased role constituted the biggest difference between this gig and previous New Pornographers concerts.



It wasn't the first time I've seen Dan with the band, but on this occasion, he appeared more at ease with his responsibilities to the group. Dan still spent much of the show off-stage, but he took his place in the spotlight for a good third of the gig, even when he wasn't required to sing. Though he always had a drink in hand, he didn't look anywhere near as drunk as before; still, it was enough to inspire one of the guys behind me to remark that Dan had the best job in the world (my thoughts exactly).

Dan didn't grant drummer Kurt Dahle's request to pop and lock for the audience, but he more than delivered everything else we wanted, including carrying off many of the tunes New Pornographers fans have come to know and love, such as "Myriad Harbour" and "Execution Day." The segments with Dan were truly my favorite portions of the show, if only for the visual of a five-musician lineup at the edge of the stage singing harmonies and playing their instruments. Of course, there was more to it, but it wasn't a bad start, nor did it make for a bad conclusion when they closed the show with "Testament to Youth in Verse."



Two bands opened for the New Pornographers. First was Imaad Wasif, whom I last saw opening for Neko last year. I hear Imaad's former bassist has moved onto a new gig, but the band had changed in other ways too, with the addition of a violinist for a fuller sound.

The second bad was the Dodos, hailing from San Francisco. They sounded fantastic, mixing folksy acoustic guitar and charming melodies with Burundi-worthy percussion (actually, a set of drums and a separate rack of vibes). Neko joined them for one song, further cementing the headliner's approval.



See also:
» who led you to this hiding place
» the force of their non-sequiturs
» use it tonight
» listening for too long to one song
» salvation holdout central

this is not a test

My gig inclinations run on the feast/famine mode these days. Either wild horses can't keep me away from a show, or those same steeds can't drag me to the concert either. Though I bought a ticket to see She & Him at the Fox Theater in Oakland as soon as they went on sale, I was on the fence until close to showtime. But I made it and was reminded that the trip can be worth the effort.

She & Him, Fox Theater, May 29, 2010: You don't have to tell me that acting and singing shouldn't mix. First off, I grew up in the era that gave us chart hits by Don Johnson, Bruce Willis, and Eddie Murphy, among others (though you gotta admit that, under the right circumstances, you can kick out some serious jams with "My Girl Has a Fat Neck" "Party All the Time"). It goes the other way too--I'm not particularly interested in seeing most of my favorite musicians try to hit their marks and chew up scenery on the big screen either (aside from the occasional well-placed cameo).

I'm slowly starting to rethink this stance. I'm sure any qualified drama student can tell you that their curriculum often includes dance and voice lessons, along with the disciplines we more typically associate with actors. Also, it helps when the likes of Zooey Deschanel knocks my socks off, not only with both She & Him records, but also before the group's inception.

One word stuck in my mind throughout the show and afterward: winsome. I'll admit it had a lot to do with Zooey's presence, but there's more to it than her glamor. Though she was undeniably the star attraction, judging by the screams and cheers issuing from the audience when she arrived onstage, she was by no means a diva. In fact, at certain spots, you could tell she was still trying to find her stage legs and was happy to have Matt step up for solos or duets.

I like to think that I don't see bands for looks alone (anymore) and that the music ultimately brings me out. As it happens, She and Him's melding of retro twang and bubblegum pop, mixed together in an analog stew and topped with a healthy dose of reverb, suits me perfectly. I especially love how all their young fans are getting a secret education on Motown and Memphis, Broadway and the Brill Building, as well as detours to Surf City and several spots in between. Those youthful ears may not realize it now, but one day, they'll be extremely grateful for the exposure, mark my words.

I've heard people complain that She & Him is more she than him, but I have no truck with the setup, and I'll gladly take my place alongside the Philistines in lauding the female half of the duo. To tell you the truth, I've never been much of an M. Ward fan, but I love what he and Zooey create together. I have no doubt that he's behind the arrangements and the production that elevate her words and melodies. She, in turn, gives him a chance to venture outside his more brooding solo pieces and maybe even let down his hair--or in this case, grow out a mustache. That sounds like an ideal partnership to me--when the sum is greater than the parts.

The only other time I've seen She & Him was at their debut live show a few years ago (which Zooey mentioned tonight), and I can't resist comparing the two gigs. Granted, I watched much of the Great American Music Hall date from the back of the room, stealing glances of Zooey whenever the guy in front of me moved his head, so my recollections are limited. I wouldn't say She & Him is a well-oiled machine just yet, even with the addition of a full band and two backup singers (the Chapin Sisters, also the opening act). They had their lulls and can probably work on their banter, but they were visibly more confident than before. I liked the new, slicker touches, such as their double team on the electric piano, as well as the uptick in duets. That self-assurance was also evident in their covers.

Matt and Zooey's interplay on the Ella Fitzgerald/Louis Armstrong standard "Would You Like to Take a Walk" was simply adorable, as was the dedication to Zooey's parents. (According to reports, Zooey's husband was also in attendance.) Zooey's biggest grins of the night were reserved for Al Anderson, who joined them for "Ridin' in My Car" (coincidentally, a song I know only through cover versions, via several different artists).

Toward the end of the night, they threw in a couple more oldies. They brought back Al Anderson for "Roll Over Beethoven," which Matt totally dominated, nailing that unforgettable intro and taking over the vocals. And when much of the crowd thought the show had drawn to a close, the two of them, sans band, returned for one more track: "I Put a Spell on You." Zooey let it all out, Matt contributed just the right balance of guitar, and we ate it up.

See also:
» i'm offering this simple phrase
» green typewriters
» sentimental heart

first-time high

This blog may indicate otherwise, but I like seeing gigs at home, and I love it when the Bay Area get exclusive engagements. Take, for example, Jon Brion's sole date with Of Montreal, scheduled for the Fox Theater in Oakland, of all places. I'm in!

Of Montreal/Jon Brion, The Fox Theater (Oakland), July 24, 2009: I admit it; Google was my friend in discovering that Jon Brion was scheduled to open for Of Montreal in a location that happened to be extraordinarily convenient to me. The moral of the story: Repeated and semi-pathological Googling can work to your advantage. The jury is out, however, on whether the same can be said for broadcasting such actions publicly.

The last time I saw Jon play in the Bay Area, he was opening for Evan Dando; he brought some loopers and a ukelele, but he had to borrow an acoustic guitar from Ben Kweller, the other opener. This time, he had the full setup: a complete drum set, several guitars, the Chamberlin, a celeste, a mini piano (the first time I've seen it), that analog synth thing, a forest of electric cables, and so much more I can't name.

If there's a common thread running through Jon's shows outside of Los Angeles, it's that he aims to please. That's not to say he abandons his muse; who else would, upon taking the stage, serenade a predominantly teenage audience with Billie Holiday? Jon also represented himself well with his pick of originals, covering country, power pop, ballads, and the ambient. But if you've hit enough of Jon's shows at Largo, you may have seen his more internal side, those gigs performed head down, with little chance of surfacing. This isn't the norm when he's on the road.



The young woman next to me professed conversion after the athletic build of "Girl I Knew," but the majority of the crowd will likely remember the two requests. Even I was pleased to hear a couple of tunes that Jon doesn't tackle often at Largo, despite repeated calls for them. The first was "Helter Skelter," initially reimagined on Chamberlin, then shifting to a ragtime cadence, and finally rocking out with the addition of drums and guitar. I don't know how many young 'uns caught this detail, but the "Only Shallow" quote over the coda's dissonance may have been worth the price of admission.

"I Put a Spell on You" would turn out to be the final song of the night--or, more accurately, the last four songs of the night. Jon started it on a beat that recalled "Disco Duck" and, after a long gestation, introduced some bass notes to the blips and beeps. He teased the audience with a snippet of Beastie Boys via the vocoder, but went without ornamentation for the screeches so essential to the song. That rebound would be short-lived as he plucked the natural complement to the electro beat he'd so expertly established: Daft Punk, of course!



During Jon's set, at least a few ticket holders bellowed their appreciation, but in the transition between acts, I heard from several people around me, including the photographers in the pit. Jon isn't unknown these days, but in truth, not a lot of people--even those in the music business--have seen him in action. It was lovely to hear these concert veterans express their wonder and amazement at what he does.

I'm ill equipped and entirely unqualified to write about Of Montreal, a band overwhelmingly well represented on the Internet and adored in real life, so I'll try to limit myself to a couple of observations. Firstly, I'm glad that some bands take drugs so that the rest of us don't have to. Mostly, though, they left me wondering if it was like this seeing Roxy Music, Prince and the Revolution, or, er, Mummenschanz at their most audacious. (I might be kidding about that last one.)

I loved the spectacle, the fan base, the crush of bodies, and even the songs. The routines on stage were matched by the choreographed moves of the front row, as much as a jam-packed collection of bodies could maneuver. Where the crew showered us with glitter and feathers (that I'm still finding in pockets and bags), the audience answered with balloons they brought along. I'm often among the first to raise an eyebrow at literal interpretations or obvious apings of the band's oeuvre, but I had to smile when the disco-ball-face ninja met his DIY hand-puppet equivalent--rendered in felt, no less!



And I can see exactly why Kevin Barnes commands such a following. He's opening up a whole new world for these kids; they may appreciate it even more in the years to come.



Jon has namechecked and covered Of Montreal at his gigs, and they returned at least the first part of that gesture at the very end, dedicating "Moonage Daydream" to him. Otherwise, he didn't join the band onstage during the show. One can hope, though, for such a union in the future.

p.s. Patricia at Spin Earth has a much better review of the Of Montreal portion of the show.

Setlist for Jon Brion
--Foolin' Myself
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Girl I Knew
--Over Our Heads
--Helter Skelter/Only Shallow
--Please Stay Away from Me
--I Put a Spell on You/Around the World

See also:
» Spin Earth: of Montreal Alter Minds and Induce Dance Fever at Oakland Show
» no one will be a stranger
» with soul power

that's how I came your humble narrator

After the Great Club Die-Off of the dot-com years, it's great to see new venues opening again in the Bay Area. The Fox Theater has to be the most glorious addition, and the Decemberists show marked my first visit to this rococo palace in the heart of downtown Oakland.

The Decemberists, Fox Theater, May 20, 2009: I've hemmed and hawed over the Decemberists in previous posts, but I wouldn't see them so often if I weren't a fan. Still, they outdid themselves this time, turning in a great show in support of an album I'm not sure I like--imagine the possibilities then with a work I love. In any case, if I weren't convinced before, I now know I'll see them live as much as I can and for as long as I can.

Before the gig, Trish apprised me of the premise. The first half of the show would be devoted to playing the entirety of The Hazards of Love, in exactly the order they appear on the record. The second half would comprise a more diverse sampling of the band's discography. Additionally, Becky Stark and Shara Worden, from Lavender Diamond and My Brightest Diamond, respectively, had been recruited to lend their vocal skills and other talents.

I wouldn't call myself the most sophisticated music listener. I know nothing about music theory, and I can't name you a chord progression to save my life. I mostly want a catchy hook, a lovely melody, and maybe a beat I can dance to. Thus, I'm not the best audience for a concept album/rock opera, especially one as specific as this release, and I wasn't particularly invested in the record going into the show.

But it didn't take long for me to change my mind. Pure and simple, the band brought the songs to life. Both Becky (as Margaret) and Shara (playing the queen) suited their roles beautifully, and Colin sold the lyrics in a way that didn't come through on the record. I think it came down to simply seeing a band embrace a concept that would otherwise feel far removed. More specifically, it felt like a rock show, the album's origins aside. Of this first section, my favorite was probably "The Rake's Song" for its five-drummer attack and accompanying amplified roar.



If I had to offer any complaints about the show, I hope they qualify as the kind that only a fan would mention. For one, there was the dearth of banter from this typically loquacious crew, but I fully understand why that had to be, given the goal of this show. Secondly, with the new record taking up most of the minutes, the rest of their set couldn't possibly encompass all the favorite tracks from their sizable discography.

They tackled both points as well as they could. After a brief break, the band returned (some with drinks in hand) and Colin greeted us at last. He mentioned dressing a wound during the intermission and engaged the audience in that way that seems so natural to him.

As for the song selection, I can't complain about any show that includes "Grace Cathedral Hill," even if it's somewhat less geographically appropriate for a gig taking place in the East Bay, or a nod to Morrissey's "Angel, Angel We Go Down Together." We saw a couple of nice curveballs too, such as their song from the Dark Was the Night compilation, a track featuring just Colin and drummer John Moen (the latter on vocals), and a couple more tunes joined by Becky and Shana. Finally, I love that the band has settled on "Sons and Daughters" as the closer; I can't tell you how many people I heard singing it on the way out (myself included).



The Decemberists have never shied away from their more theatrical side, so tonight's thespian display was halfway expected. This time, they decided to take the show to the floor, as John, Chris Funk, Becky, and Shana ventured into the crowd and reenacted the sorry story of the Donner party (overwhelmingly familiar and popular among anyone who attended grade school in California) to the tune of "A Cautionary Tale." Chris Funk may have nabbed the best role as the chipmunk witness to this tragedy.



I'm not sure how much of an underminer I would be for mentioning that this segment--and at least a couple of other episodes--reminded me of the Arcade Fire. Then again, you might as well argue that a band can have exclusive rights to, say, jumping off the drum stack or instigating a round of call-and-response.

At the end of the evening, we marveled that we had last seen the Decemberists a mere six months ago--and wouldn't mind catching them again just as soon.

The Other Lives opened the show, and their setup, incorporating a cellist and a keyboard, in addition to drums and guitar, seemed promising. Unfortunately, their music suffered in the venue. Some of the warmth came through, but the harmonies petered out in the expanse.

See also:
» hear all the bombs, they fade away
» among all the urchins and old Chinese merchants
» use it tonight