anomaly

No one needs to be a rock tourist, especially when you live in a city that hosts your three favorite members of your single favorite band for a trio of unrelated gigs all in the same month--much less the same night, as was the case Thursday, when Glenn Kotche and Nels Cline played conflicting shows only a couple miles from each other. For all my willingness to book a cheap flight to whatever town for a random gig, it's nice when the artists come to me. Thus, scheduling conundrum aside, I wasn't about to let this local opportunity pass me by.

Kronos Quartet with Glenn Kotche, Herbst Theatre, October 25-26, 2007: How many times in your life do you get to witness the world premiere of anything (other than, maybe, a made-for-TV movie)? Well, there was the time I happened to be parked in front of the set for MTV's world premiere of Madonna's "Dress You Up" video, but honestly, it was no "Thriller."

But a world premiere was indeed part of tonight's billing, and that, along with Glenn's participation, was the most concrete piece of information I had about the show. Then again, I've taken bigger leaps of faith.

I'm the first person to admit that this sort of work falls far outside my very limited realm of musical knowledge. For example, the program reported that Glenn's composition would be presented in seven movements. I wouldn't know a movement if it slapped me in the face, though I figured we could expect seven discrete components. Where one ended and another began--once again, don't ask me. But ignorance be damned, I wouldn't have missed this show for anything.

What I can tell you is that the work started with each member of the quartet picking up an unusual instrument--chimes, bells, and other ephemera--and coaxing a gentle intro from each, while accompanying themselves with audible sighs and breaths. The cumulative effect made me wonder if Glenn had taken some inspiration from the title of his bandmate's recent release, Draw Breath by the Nels Cline Singers.

It gets a little fuzzy from here, but Glenn eventually joined in, supplying the percussion he's better known for. At times, he set a forceful, driving beat; at others, he added the subtle shadings of sounds elicited from his stable of out-of-the-ordinary implements; and for notable stretches, he did absolutely nothing but monitor the other players with a watchful gaze until it came time to hit his cues. The Kronos Quartet, in turn, eventually came back to the stringed instruments for which they're better known, though they'd revisit their array of whirligigs and whatchamacallits throughout the piece.

And though my description doesn't convey it so well, it wasn't all humorless intensity and concentration. During one of my favorite movements (?), Glenn and the quartet's Jeffrey Zeigler matched each other beat for beat as they whipped identical clacking noisemaker-like items back and forth, the whole time grinning at one another. In a separate segment, the quartet played handbells, sometimes applying bows and brushes to them, bringing to mind The Bells of St. Mary's as staged by, say, Laurie Anderson. In yet another portion, the music came in the form of small twigs or strands straw snapped by the quartet.

From the first time I heard him play with Wilco, I've been struck by Glenn's musical abilities--not something you can say about many drummers. My appreciation shot up another notch with these performances, as I saw for myself how Glenn's artistic ear extends far beyond his drum kit, as well as how other musicians respond to his guidance. It was sort of like finding out that the guy you know who does those amazing wheelies on his dirt bike also happens to occasionally race in wind sprints alongside Tour de France champions.

I've now had numerous opportunities to take in Glenn's work outside of Wilco, and his shows have always left me at least a little more enlightened. It's easy to pick out the elements in his solo performances that he brings to the band, but just as provocative are the sounds and influences that haven't percolated through to his mainstream work. Who's to say if any of these ingredients will ever make their way to Wilco's opus? I wouldn't bet against it, though.

This was my first time seeing the Kronos Quartet, who were as terrific as everyone says they are. Their opening selections were especially impressive: a contemporary, sample-heavy number by Amon Tobin; a modern selection of works by John Zorn, which hit nearly as much on the comical level as much as they did on the musical level; and Raymond Scott's classical, nostalgia-inducing "Twilight in Turkey," which practically invited you to recall all the Warner Bros. cartoons that made use of the tune. It should come as no surprise, however, that my favorite segment of the show outside of Anomaly was their take on Television's magnificent "Marquee Moon."

Glenn's composition was actually the last portion of a two-hour show that also featured two other young composers, Walter Kitundu and South Korean singer/dancer Dohee Lee, and their original works written for the quartet. At the end of the second night, all three composers joined the quartet for the show-closing bow.

See also:
» feels lucky to have you here
» sunken song

where the wild things are

Or, perhaps, the zealous ones, judging by the sheer number of gearheads who came out for the Nels Cline/Glenn Kotche double bill.

Nels Cline and Glenn Kotche, Cafe du Nord, February 26, 2007: Shaky employment prospects kept me from catching Nels and Glenn on their tandem tour of the East Coast last year. Luckily, they brought their act out west, and lightning, hail, and whipping winds weren't enough to keep me away from a show featuring two of my favorite musicians. I certainly missed Trish and Maudie's presence (get better soon, ladies!), but despite the ugly conditions, a respectable crowd filled Cafe du Nord. Heck, I even spied LeRoy Bach (formerly of Five Style and Wilco, among others) in the audience.

Nels and Glenn each took up about half the tiny stage, the two of them loaded down with a different set of musical implements than I'm used to seeing. Glenn, especially, brought a ton of toys: cymbals affixed to more cymbals, several varieties of drumsticks, and what looked like a torchiere bearing a spiraling metal cascade. Nels, meanwhile, brandished a set of guitars that he doesn't usually play with Wilco, including a shiny brown Danelectro; he also brought what I discovered is called the Mega Mouth--the thing I've likened to a pink hockey puck in past reports.

First up was Nels, but there was some question as to which incarnation of the man would grace us with his presence: jazz Nels, freeform Nels, rootsy Nels, rocking Nels--maybe even Nels the vocalist? Well, a little of all of them, but he started out on a major noise-drenched bender. In the background, he set up a droning, persistent tone. To my naked eye, his gizmos looked like a couple of old, mic'd transistor radios, but I defer to the surrounding gearheads, who said something about how these items were used to mimic the sound of a sitar.

At the front of the stage, Nels projected his voice through the Mega Mouth and over the guitar strings, creating another wordless, sweeping layer of ambience. Atop those sounds, he jammed in a series of short, forceful riffs. As this discordant exercise progressed and I wondered where Nels was headed, he turned on the sort of crystalline, inspirational notes that he's employed to lift many a musical composition.

Not long ago, the prospects of seeing Glenn solo out west seemed slim, but last year's tour with Jeff Tweedy took care of that precedent. However, in these intimate environs, Glenn's set took on a different dimension.

Although Glenn's set was very similar to what he played with Jeff, his actions seemed better defined and more visceral in this small space. Once again, I was struck by the strength of his arrangements; he has a way of bringing out the melodies in pieces that are ostensibly percussive in nature. At the same time, he just as convincingly brought the rawk, as anyone who's heard the crash of his cymbals can attest. Glenn also took more time to explain some of his inspirations, and he dedicated the João Gilbert cover to LeRoy Bach.

Nels and Glenn came together to conclude the show with a collaborative medley: a cover of Sonic Youth's "Karen Coltrane" from A Thousand Leaves (which Nels called no less than "one of the greatest recordings in the history of Western music"), dovetailing into Nels's own "Caved In Heart Blues." Neither held back on this sprawling duet. Nels wasn't shy with the Mega Mouth, and at one point, Glenn played what looked like a small metal bowl filled with beans--and I couldn't help but think about the possibilities of adding a certain improv-minded multi-instrumentalist (perhaps on piano?) to the mix. Sigh.

Nels Cline and Glenn Kotche, Echo Lounge, February 27, 2007: Overheard at the show: "That's the biggest zildo I've ever seen!"

It was night two for me, but it was the last evening of the tour for Nels and Glenn, and they both mentioned it several times during the set. But of course, with a new Wilco album looming, it's far from the end of the line for the pair.

Nels kicked it off once more, declaring from the outset that he had no idea what he was going to do. And as you might expect from someone as dedicated to improv as Nels, he really did unleash something new. The Mega Mouth re-emerged, but this time, it was accompanied by a lap steel and a couple of other unfamiliar guitars. To begin, Nels ventured out on a slightly more accessible note, but the spell didn't last for long. Before you knew it, we were encompassed in the combined beauty and chaos of a Nels Cline track.

Though he noted that the floor drum was feeding back, Glenn forged ahead with his customary set. Tonight, we were positioned right next to Glenn's kit, so we could see his full range of actions and their effects. I loved the two sets of handheld percussive devices he used on the last segment; one looked like a child's paddleball toy, only made of tin and without the ball! Glenn tossed it away during one of the song's transitions, only to have Nels throw it back at him later in the evening. We saw it fly around like a hot potato at least a couple more times before the show's conclusion.

Regular readers of this blog may have noticed that this was my second show in Los Angeles in five days and that I came home to San Francisco in between. This shouldn't be surprising to anyone who knows me, especially if you're aware of one of my many tenets of rock tourism: See the last show(s) of the tour if you can, even if it means you're in Los Angeles for less than 12 hours and back on a plane to get to work in the morning--hypothetically speaking. I firmly stand by that rule, especially when either Nels Cline or Glenn Kotche are involved.

See also:
» i don't want to leave this walking dream
» pumpkin
» and when you touch down
» i hear you sing a golden hymn
» just keep counting the stars

the power of suggestion, the element of chance

Is it too nerdy to admit how long I've been waiting to write up this particular Jon Brion concert review? Is my cred shot? Bwahahahaha.

Jon Brion, Intonation Festival, June 25, 2006: It was the moment of truth, the date that had been circled in triplicate in red and surrounded by little gold stars and rainbow signs on my calendar since the beginning of time--Jon Brion's return to the stage, in the midst of his unexpected bout of tendinitis. I can't even remember when Heidi got the tickets for us, but the only thing that mattered was that we were here now and that Jon Brion was playing. Even better, Brianne, Chandler, Gina, Paul, Sam, and Sooz deigned our histrionics reasonable enough to endure.

As it was a festival, the set changes took place in front of our eyes, and we ate up every second that Jon was present, regardless of whether he was playing actual music. We worried for Sami, who--sporting a summertime Mohawk--faced the unenviable task of setting up the equipment in a mere 40 minutes instead of the leisurely pace of a typical Friday night set at Largo. Along the way, Jon joined him onstage (looking uncharacteristically pulled together in a lovely light gray pinstriped suit), accompanied by the always welcome Benmont Tench. Well, I guess that was one surprise out of the bag.

Together, Jon, Sami, and various local crew members tried out the loops, pedals, and mics, though seemingly not to full satisfaction. In between testing out his guitars, Jon turned his eyes and ears to Blue Cheer on the other stage, smiling approvingly at various points. The festival had started out late but had somewhat caught up over the course of the day; Jon must've set them back another 15 or 20 minutes in all. He definitely didn't start out on time.

We were spared the "comedy" routines that had preceded every other performer that day. Instead, one of the Intonation bigwigs took the self-proclaimed honor of introducing Jon. To his credit, the same guy stood at the back of the stage through Jon's set and seemed visibly moved by the music. I think there's been a lot of speculation on why Jon accepted an invitation to this festival, a far cry from Largo; this guy's earnest appreciation may give us a hint.

At the very start, during Jon's extended hello to the crowd, those of us in front could see him wringing, massaging, and stretching his stricken hand--not a good sign. It was perhaps just as telling that the set didn't begin with the piano noodling that normally opens his Largo shows. Instead, he took up the guitar and stayed on it for most of this performance.

In no surprise to me, he opened with "Same Thing," which I always love to hear. Sure, we didn't get the hammer/piano treatment I adore, but the outro is my favorite part anyway. Somewhere in there, he threw in different guitar licks, but that's as much as I can say and not feel like a complete fraud. He remained on guitar for the next song, "Just Fooling Myself," bringing Billie Holiday to the festival masses in grand style.

The stage was no Largo, but Sami and company had set up the drums and a small electric piano, and it wasn't long before Jon took advantage of them, jumping to the drums for a song build of the infectious "Happy with You." From there, he layered the piano, followed by, of course, guitar. At this point, I was just happy that Jon was going for an uptempo set, not one of those brooding meditations we sometimes endure in Los Angeles.

Next, Jon brought the preternaturally unflappable Benmont onstage, and the two greeted each other warmly. While Jon tuned his guitar, Benmont improvised a charming piano tune. Jon was so taken by it that he pretty much turned the stage over to Benmont and supported him. With the ice thoroughly broken (not so much between them but with the audience), they went into "Why Do You Do This to Yourself." At Largo, Benmont tends to join in on the second set, so we usually hear him on odd covers, not on Jon's own songs--score another one for Intonation. Jon also announced his appreciation of Benmont, saying that playing with Benmont was like getting to see a concert for himself.

From the Vice stage, Robert Pollard's band could be heard soundchecking, and Jon incorporated the drum beat into a couple lines of "Tell Her No" by the Zombies. But that gave way to a build of "The Girl I Knew," another unreleased gem.

A voice from the audience requested "Knock Yourself Out," to which Jon nodded, but it looked to me that he already had his acoustic guitar in hand anyway. He donned the harmonica headset as well and checked with the sound guy on a couple of points. When it seemed that he wasn't happy with the first question, he opted for the second option--it turned out to be a sexy, understated, and gasp-inducing "Don't Think Twice It's Alright." I think I spent the first half of the song staring at Sooz and Heidi in disbelief. Fortunately, I had somewhat returned to earth by the time he seamlessly segued into "Knock Yourself Out," which saw Benmont's return and a respectable audience sing-along.

The easy hook for pimping Jon Brion is to tell the prospective fan of all the amazing musicians who've worked with Jon in the studio or joined him onstage at Largo. But those of us who've braved workplace obfuscation, transcontinental flights, and Largo "cuisine" know that Jon needs no hook. Still, the guests are a treat, especially when that guest turns out to be the drummer in your other favorite band. We had been speculating and whispering of the prospect among ourselves, but seeing Glenn Kotche of Wilco join Jon at Intonation was beyond a thrill. And once again, I'll pointedly gloat of having had the honor of witnessing this commingling of talents before. Neener neener neener.

Benmont and Glenn accompanied Jon for two consecutive covers: "This Will Be Our Year" and "Baby You're a Rich Man." The latter brought out a robust sing-along from the audience and Jon's exhultations of "More!" to his cohorts. If that weren't emphatic enough, he set his attention solely on Glenn and coaxed a lengthy, wild drum solo from him. It was no "Star Spangled Banner," but we loved watching Glenn unleashed in a manner that we don't usually get to see with Wilco or at his solo shows.

Jon closed with a build of his own "I Believe She's Lying," a song rife with possibilities, especially during the guitar outro. Throughout the show, Jon seemed to be in high spirits, even with the occasionally faulty equipment. His energy took another turn during this song, culminating in his kicking over the electric piano. The keyboard went flying--we went agog.

Though Jon had far exceeded his allotment, the aforementioned promoter/fan boy took a cue from our wild cheers and brought Jon back for one last song, joined again by Benmont and Glenn. From the moment I saw Benmont onstage, I had my suspicions, and this one came true too, as the trio crafted a dreamy, otherworldly "Waterloo Sunset." By coincidence, the sun was waning, and you could see Jon look to the western sky.

As for Jon's hand, it looks like problems persist, and the piano may be the more vexing instrument, as he barely touched it. Sure, "Here We Go" would've been a treat, but then again, my friends probably wouldn't have wanted to pick me up off the lawn after the set.

I'd be lying if I said it was enough, but the set was just right--for now. In the meantime, we'll keep checking Largo's schedule for Jon's eventual (we hope) return.

Oh yeah, the rest of the festival. We took it easy on Saturday but managed to catch part or all of the Stills, Roky Erickson, the Boredoms, and Ghostface Killah. I'll single out the last one for a song equating women with ice cream--which I've defanged to a criminal extent with that description. Sunday, we were glued to the Virtue stage, where we saw excellent sets by Bill Dolan and the Constantines, as well as endured Annie and the Sword--at the least, the latter was a lot more interesting. Oh, Neil Hamburger turned up too!

The setlist:
Same Thing
Fooling Myself
Happy with You [song build]
Benmont's piano improv while Jon tuned
Why Do You Do This to Yourself *
Tell Her No [snippet]
The Girl I Knew [song build]
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright/Knock Yourself Out *
This Will Be Our Year **
Baby You're a Rich Man **
I Believe She's Lying [song build]

encore
Waterloo Sunset **

* = with Benmont Tench
** = with Benmont Tench and Glenn Kotche

If you've read this far, you certainly deserve to check out a video from the festival (thanks to Ariel for the clip):



See also:
» As long as I gaze on Union Park sunset
» how can I deny what's inside
» i'll be out on the town
» public service announcement
» top 5 Largo memories

i don't want to leave this walking dream

Pictures probably won't come until later this weekend, but here's the last dispatch from the southland adventure:

Jeff Tweedy, Spreckles Theater, February 11, 2006: San Diego is the second largest city in California, but it's basically a tertiary market. In certain ways, it's a far cry from Los Angeles, which is probably one of the reasons so many people love it. I'm not one of those people, but it's a decent place to see a show, especially if you're already hanging out in LA and have many hours to spare.

We met up with the McCormicks, took a quick spin downtown for dinner, then settled in at Spreckles, one of those old-fashioned theaters with a flashing marquee on the outside and regal box seats on the inside. For all its style, gravitas, and stellar acoustics, this sort of room is a killer for the kind of shows I like to see. And though I tried to keep an open mind, that's pretty much what happened. The setlist was nothing extraordinary other than "Sugar Baby," and the show felt rushed. Also, there was a big commotion over a woman talking in the audience, and the incident cowed the audience. Worst of all, the "cock" story was resurrected. Argh! I don't need another five years of people yelling that at shows and feeling unaccountably proud for doing so.

Coincidentally, the Disney Music Hall had hosted a McSweeney's evening that features John Hodgman, Patton Oswalt, and--drumroll, please--Jon fucking Brion. Unfortunately, tickets were completely sold out. Should I have tried to go there? The question will eat at me for a while.

Jeff Tweedy, Henry Fonda Theater, February 12 and 13, 2006: The location for this show was perfect. Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles was half a block down, Ocean Way required a mere turn around the corner, and Amoeba couldn't have been more than a 10-minute walk to the west. Unfortunately, the staff wasn't as accommodating, and on neither night did we make it all the way to the front (well, I managed to squeeze in with my friends Dean, Adam, and Paul the first night).

Sunday's show saw Jeff recovering nicely from the San Diego debacle, helped along, I'm sure, by the incredibly attentive crowd. Again, the setlist was mostly predictable, but the highlight was definitely Spencer Tweedy's turn onstage for "I'm the Man Who Loves You," dedicated to "mommy." Not living in Chicago, I've never seen Spencer play with Jeff before, so it was so cool to see how good he is! Wanting to give due credit to both sons, Jeff also told a cute joke by Sammy. LA isn't known for its charm, but it was in abundance that night.

The second night was even better, for lots of reasons. From the outset, Jeff made clear his intentions to play to Susan Miller, seated in the balcony, and his song selection shaped up to be a long valentine to his wife. He joked about it to mock the guys in the audience, but the tunes spoke louder than anything else in the room. Nels opened this show, and as in San Francisco, he and Glenn joined Jeff for the encore. No one seemed to want it to end, as Jeff coaxed song after song out of them. The highlights for me were "Dash 7" with Nels on the dobro and "Blasting Fonda," which may or may have not been triggered by my request. Even better, we didn't get "Heavy Metal Drummer." But best of all, both Paul and Brianne were namechecked from the stage, though for different reasons.

Our last night in town was just about perfect. As we said good-bye to the guys, we simultaneously celebrated Heidi's birthday. Many hugs, desserts, and hours later, we were in the hotel lobby, trying desparately to head upstairs and get some sleep but barely succeeding.

Each of these adventures is different, but I always hold the West Coast dates close to my heart, as they're my chance to show off my favorite places. I think we did OK this time? ;)

See also:
» it's still beyond me
» top 10 concerts of 2005

in the beginning, we closed our eyes

I'm not here too long this week, folks, but before I run off again...

Jeff Tweedy, the Fillmore, February 8 and 9, 2006: A couple of years ago, when there were some whispers of a solo tour by Jeff Tweedy, I guaranteed everyone that his next San Francisco stop would be the Fillmore now that he had far outgrown the Great American Music Hall. Then again, with Wilco's phenomenal success over the course of the last few albums, Jeff could've moved on to at least the Warfield by now, so I was grateful to see him at the relatively smaller venue.

It may sound like an oxymoron, but there are rules when it comes to going to gigs, and one of the foremost is that the last night is always the best, though there are some exceptions. The first night was certainly good, especially during the encore, when both Nels Cline and Glenn Kotche joined in, but the song selection was more customary. Yes, I realize a night where Jeff plays "Pieholden Suite," "Summerteeth," and "In a Future Age" can hardly be called ordinary, but the majority of songs wasn't too surprising. As usual, Jeff told stories and faced down hecklers. In San Francisco, the hecklers tend to be affectionate, if sometimes clueless. We can be a reverent lot, and for the most part, we stayed silent during all the important parts.

The second night saw a handful of repeats but, more notably, a ton of older songs that justified our goofy undertaking. I kept turning to my cousin Annie in amazement and telling her that she was witnessing a hell of a gig for her first solo Tweedy experience. Judy got "Lost Love" (one of my favorites as well), we were far from the only people singing along to "Someday Soon," and "Gun" is always rousing. Capping off the two-night stand with a truly unplugged "New Madrid" to a rapt crowd--and without the camera crew in the room--was the perfect ending. Our group was in wholesale agreement that we had seen one of the best shows of the tour so far. It was going to take a lot to top this one, but if it was possible, we'd find out in the next few days.

For these shows, Nels Cline opened the first night and Glenn Kotche the second. On the first night, they both joined Jeff on the encore, but it was just Glenn on the second night (Nels was on tour with Banyan, I believe). I hadn't seen Nels entirely solo before, so I was excited to hear him for myself. As usual, he surprised me yet again. As I suspected, there was some crossover in Nels's solo set and the improv nights with Jon Brion, but Nels took it a step further by singing into the hockey puck-like device, which in turn distorted and projected his voice into an eerie, airy drone. There were jagged, discordant passages, along with soaring, melodic lines, but I'm the wrong person to try to characterize them.

The affection between Jeff, Nels, and Glenn flowed freely, and the interaction between Jeff and Glenn tickles me to no end. Toward the end of the night, Jeff came over and kissed Glenn on the head. It would be presumptuous to give all the credit to this fair city, but we'll take them any day.

See also:
» it's still beyond me
» top 10 concerts of 2005
» i'll be back again
» the other side of the mountain

i'm beginning to see the light

One down, far too many to go, but you can read about those as they come in. May I present the first dispatch for the time being.

Jeff Tweedy, Van Duzer Theater, February 6, 2006: I made a speedy drive up on Super Bowl Sunday to meet Judy, Evonne, and Paul on the northern coast. Such a city girl am I that I've never been this far north in the state. Granted, it's ridiculously beautiful, and the terrain is breathtaking but when you don't tend toward nature-oriented activities, there's only so much time you can spend in the great outdoors. We explored the small town square and even took a wonderful hike out at the ocean cliffs. See, we know how to make the most of our day when we get the chance!

The show wasn't sold out, and the balcony was only half full. Our seats in the first row were shockingly close, and we had no problem settling in. I can't lie--I do this a lot, and it's not always easy to get excited, except for the prospect of seeing my friends and exploring new places. And as the show started, I wasn't sure I'd be thrilled. But when Jeff did "In a Future Age" and, a few songs later, "I'm Beginning to See the Light," I knew I wasn't going to forget this one soon. If Jeff ever drops by Largo, I think we know which song he can do. No one minded our singing along, and the crowd was wonderfully respectful. Even the 11-month-old baby, the inspiration for the Duke Ellington number, merely cooed throughout the set.

By the first encore, Jeff seemed suitably relaxed and got a lot of laughs, though at the expense of Glenn Kotche, perhaps one of the best sports I've ever seen onstage. At the very end, we saw something I've never seen Jeff do before: turn off the PA, come to the edge of the stage, and sing "Acuff Rose." If I were more jaded, I might suggest that the presence of the documentary cameras helped bring about that moment, but at that point, I was completely renewed for the upcoming string of shows.

Glenn opened the show with mostly the same set he did on the East Coast run last fall. He didn't bring the vibes this time, but he substituted a cool Steve Reich number that shows off a lot of his influences. He didn't sing on the João Gilberto song, but the other elements shone through.

For a supposedly low-key show, this gig was a great way to kick off this week's activities. Fillmore (and home), here we come!

See also:
» it's still beyond me
» top 10 concerts of 2005
» unplug the jukebox and do us all a favour

it's still beyond me

I always say that Jeff Tweedy solo is the other half of the Wilco equation. Now that I've seen Glenn Kotche (more on him later) and Nels Cline on their own, I'm not sure my mantra holds, but Jeff's solo outings certainly offer a glimpse into the major factor driving the band, especially as they seem to be moving toward a more complicated sound.

Jeff Tweedy, Messiah College, November 12, 2005: Three years ago, I pulled what was at the time a pretty goofy move by my standards: I dragged my friend Melissa to the Wilco show at Messiah College, an obscure school outside of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The show was fun for a number of reasons, but the venue was bizarre: the college gym. Regardless, when Jeff Tweedy's concert at the same college was announced, I didn't hesitate to pick up tickets.

Of the three shows, Messiah was probably the best, partly because it was general admission, partly because my buddies were there, and lastly because the energy level was great. You could hear the crowd singing along--an act I took for granted until the later shows on our trip. Jeff, as always, was warm and engaging, and in the end, the songs just sounded so good. Jeff tried to open up (jokingly?) a dialogue about religion, in reference to a Faith & Culture conference going on at the school at the same time, but a dark, cavernous gym is perhaps not the right place for the discussion.

Also, Jeff did the songs requested by Brianne and me, though we heard one of Brianne's selections only at soundcheck. I haven't been downloading recent Wilco stuff, so the new songs were surprises. Jeff has been playing the Loose Fur song at just about every show, but during soundcheck, we got another new title, presumably written from the perspective of a child welcoming a new sibling home.

Of course, Glenn opened--the first time I've seen him outside of Wilco (not counting the Largo appearance that I will never shut up about). He was breathtaking, and I was beyond impressed. The first song, the title track "Mobile" from his forthcoming solo album, is incredibly melodic and varied. Then came the Balinese monkey chant, which was unlike anything I've ever heard before. He followed it with a vibes composition based on an African piece of music--I wish I could be more specific, but I'd be doing it a huge disservice to take a stab at its origins. After that was a enchanting João Gilberto cover, followed by Glenn's own "Projections of What Might." Glenn's influence on the current Wilco lineup is undeniable, but hearing and seeing him solo makes me realize how much I've missed. At each show, Jeff found new ways of making fun of Glenn (all in good fun, of course), but the respect and dedication between them comes through in their playing as much as their joking.

I hope Glenn somehow makes it to the West Coast. I'm lucky enough to see various Nels Cline projects, but I'd trade in a few of 'em for some Glenn Kotche shows.

Jeff Tweedy, Calvin Theatre, November 13, 2005: We drove through five states the next day, and I got to take in the fabled Eastern fall foliage. In Northampton, we met up with Dave and Selene for a preshow meal. I could easily hang out with Dave for a long time--he's such a good guy. The best part of the gig was probably when Jeff asked for requests and pointed straight (in the dark) at Dave, who was prepared with his plea for "Fatal Wound." Alas, no luck there, but I give major props to Dave for trying. The Calvin show was good, though as a sit-down venue, it's already at a disadvantage. Still, we got in our singalongs and handclaps, and the people around us were notably moved and involved. After the show, I got confirmation that I'm regarded as the Jon Brion freak by more than a few people--now if only it would help my Google count. Grrrrr.

Jeff Tweedy, The Egg, November 14, 2005: The Egg is like a venue out of a dated sci-fi movie, rising from the Albany landscape like the Vince Lombardi trophy. Inside, it was a very grown-up venue, a far cry from Messiah College just two days previously. Before the show, Sooz and Paul scurried about secretively, leaving Heidi and me to take in Stan's great between-set mix (the Zombies!). During the encore, their tricks became apparent, as Jeff played my remaining request for "Promising," a song that he was supposed to play at the basement show but didn't quite get to. He couldn't remember the first words, and I was too shocked to recall them, but he managed regardless. This was definitely my favorite part of the show, made all the more apparent in contrast to the abysmal crowd throughout the rest of the gig. The hecklers were ridiculous, and though Jeff visibly strained to hear us during an early song, we were bitchily urged to shush during our singalong to "Heavy Metal Drummer," a tune we don't even like! At that point, we sort of gave up and let the comatose crowd dig its own hole.

Mart Rivas and Craig Meyer, Slane, November 15, 2005: Mart forgave us for showing up late after we explained to him that we had just came from an incredible meal at Babbo, where we saw Bruce Springsteen, Patti Scialfa, Michael Stipe, and Michael's boyfriend having dinner together--on the 30th anniversary of Born to Run, no less! But there was no way I was going to miss Mart's gig.

First off, I have to say that Mart obviously played to Heidi all night, doing just about every song that she requested! But I won't hold that against either of them, especially since Mart made everything sound so great, even a couple of Madonna classics and my favorite single ever released, "When Doves Cry." Bless Mart for putting up with our caterwauling, considering he can more than command a room with his soulful, sweet voice, no thanks to us.

See also:
» i won't be denied
» i'll be out on the town

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

i'll be out on the town

During my self-imposed blogging siesta from October through January, I went to a lot of great gigs, including an awesome Wilco west coast run in November. I don't think it'd be worth it to post about them now, but I gotta get two of them on the record before I forget.

Britt Daniel, Swedish American Hall, October 29, 2004: The setlist 'cos that's how I roll.

1. Lines in the Suit
2. Beast & Dragon (new song)
3. Mr. Valentin (new song)
4. new song (Delicate Place? it was my favorite of the new tunes--very melodic, great chorus)
5. I Could See the Dude
6. Stay Don't Go
7. They Never Got You (new song)
8. Sister Jack (new song)
9. The Way We Get By
10. new song
11. Minor Tough
12. I Am the Key (La's cover)
13. Metal Detektor
14. Anything You Want
15. I Summon You (new song)
16. Paper Tigers

***encore***
17. Everything Hits at Once
18. Me & the Bean
19. Waiting for the Kid to Come Out

Nothing too surprising here in terms of the setlist, but it was a very solid show, and the admiration flowed from both the audience and the performer. It's hard to say anything about the new songs. I mean, they all sound pretty solid, but they may take on whole new dimensions when the rest of the band is through. My only observation is that they don't sound as spare as the tunes on Kill the Moonlight, and I think Britt may have relied less on his backing tracks for them. Now that I've seen Britt solo a few times, I can say that I'm even more raring to see/hear Spoon live again.

Jon Brion + friends, Largo, November 19, 2004: My awesome cousin Annie volunteered to pick us up from the Wiltern and take us to Largo after the Wilco show. We were pretty tired after 6 days of rock tourism, but I'm so glad my friends decided to humor me and check out this Largo thing for themselves. We made it in time for the second set. The club wasn't too crowded when we got in, and most of us managed to find seats shortly after Jon started playing. Here's my attempt at a setlist:

**Jon Brion solo**
--Summertime
--Get What It's About
--Didn't Think It Would Turn Out Bad
--Let's Stay Together/Running Up That Hill
--I Was Happy with You

**with Glenn Kotche**
--All I Have to Do Is Dream/punk version/Wipeout/God Save the Queen/Just What I Needed/Controversy/Flagpole Sitta/Star Spangled Banner (Hendrix version, with lots of encouragment from Jon for Glenn to extend the drum jam)

**with Glenn, Benmont Tench, Nickel Creek**
--Aqualung (snippet)
--Taxman
--Ain't Misbehaving

Jon started with a wildly distorted one-man version of "Summertime," then proceeded with two songs from the Huckabees soundtrack. The Al Green song was a request from the audience, but the segue into "Running Up That Hill" took us all by complete surprise. "I Was Happy with You" is an unreleased song that Jon has been playing for a while.

During the initial portion of the set, Sam Jones came in with Glenn and Miiri Kotche. They ended up taking the table right in front of us, i.e., the best seats in the house. Glenn was obviously enjoying the set, and I recall very clearly hearing a resounding "Oh shit!" from him as he watched Jon doing the one-man-band thing during "Let's Stay Together." Mind you, my friends and I were in shock too, and I kept telling everyone that they got Jon on a great night.

Not long after, Jon invited Glenn up to the stage. Glenn, ever so modest, didn't realize that Jon was asking for his presence, even as he was calling him by name. At first, they both stood sheepishly on the tiny stage, and Jon informed Glenn that he should take an instrument. Definitely surprised by this development, Glenn opted to go with the drums--a wise choice. Jon stuck to guitar and vocals. Glenn looked very confused at first but managed to keep up with Jon's hairpin turns. Best of all, he got a drum solo during "Wipeout!"

While we were still in shock, Jon invited Benmont Tench and the members of Nickel Creek to form an insta-group. They finished with a couple of great covers. I don't think I stopped smiling for the entire hour. And I haven't even mentioned how a stuffed dolphin toy became a percussive element during at least two points of the set.

Afterward, Glenn told us that he had met Jon at a party at Sam Jones's house just a couple of days earlier and that they had jammed together that night. Still, he had no idea that he would be called upon to play. I hope it won't be the last time he graces Largo with his presence.

See also:
» turn to crystal form
» top 5 Largo memories
» get a load of the lengths I go to