I admit I went a little overboard with the Largo excursions in December and January--the center could not hold. Reality returned (somewhat) in February, and I'll likely have to stick to these self-imposed limits for the foreseeable future. On the bright side, what I lose in quantity, I gain in quality, thanks to the continuing string of Rawlings Machine shows.
Dave Rawlings Machine, Largo at the Coronet, March 5, 2009: My manias are not a mystery--those tag clouds on the right of the page have me pegged. But in case you haven't noticed, it's happening again: Intrigue is turning into infatuation. I'm talking, of course, about the Rawlings Machine. They sure make it easy to decide which weekends I should fly down (and double my disgruntlement when I can't be there).
Despite their mild protests about the lack of preparation and problems with pacing, Dave and Gillian took to the stage with an evident ease and an uptick in confidence compared to their early shows at Largo. They fell short of a swagger, and I doubt that Dave and Gillian will ever be able to take their act to Vegas--or Branson, Missouri, for that matter--but actually, that's not a bad thing.
They handled the first five songs of the show by themselves. I took it as a good sign the look of surprise that flitted across Gillian's face on their second track; she later explained that she didn't expect it so early in the set, and it confirms for me that they haven't fallen into rote recitation.
To these ears, the highlight of this section was "Knuckleball Catcher." Though I've heard this song at each of their performances, there was something about the fierce arrangement and their peerless harmonizing that leapt out at me this time. The sly rhymes of that last verse ("some hard liquor can make a guitar picker out of you"), especially, has been on my brain for days; nor does it hurt that the intro reminds me a little of their version of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
From there, the guest appearances commenced. The first musician plucked from the sidelines--not quite literally, though Dave did march over to the curtains, still bearing his guitar, and pointed at the performer in question--was a true legend: John Paul Jones. I've seen him only once before, but you could hazard a guess that his ties to Largo have further deepened in the last year. Not only has he produced Sara Watkins' solo album, he's previously played with Gillian and Dave as well. This familiarity showed; looking pretty relaxed himself, John Paul Jones contributed mandolin and harmonies to "I Hear Them All," to David and Gillian's delight, and stuck around for more.
I didn't take notes this time, so the details start to blur, but I recall that Sara and Sean Watkins, as well as Sebastian Steinberg and Benmont Tench, piled in for a number of songs, mostly traditional numbers that Gillian later explained qualified as the dance music of its day. And though they had their own gig scheduled for the Little Room that night, Sara and Sean seemed reluctant to leave. In fact, we spied the duo watching from the shadows later in the set, though their own show should've been under way by then.
It's obvious to me that Largo has opened up Dave and Gillian as performers, but the duo has, in turn, opened up Largo to a new set of artists--especially on the younger, hipper end of the spectrum. Tonight, that meant we saw "Z" Berg from the Like, Morgan Nagler with her signature tune, and--drum roll, please--Jenny Lewis, returning for another short spin. This time, she sang "Silver Lining" from the last Rilo Kiley album, but from our seats, we could see that she stuck around for the rest of the set, dancing and just plain enjoying the festivities.
Following Jenny's turn, my wish came true about halfway through "Ruby," when Jon Brion sauntered over and fell right in to the swing of things. Dave and Gillian have been dropping in on Jon's set for a good few months now, so I was happy to see him return the favor on the big stage.
Dave and Gillian remained, by default, the leaders, but only nominally, urging Benmont, Jon, and John Paul Jones to work their magic as well. They peaked with a phenomenal segue from Bright Eyes to "Cortez the Killer"; it hits me between the eyes every time.
Even "White Rabbit" couldn't top that; I blame the lack of reverb, despite Gillian and Dave's request for more. Still, I loved watching Benmont and Jon add their low-tech effects to the tune (Benmont, plucking at the piano strings; Jon going for a doppler-type effect with the guitar and mic). And the fact that Gillian forgot some of the lyrics was more charming than distracting as well. Closing out the set, Gillian ran to fetch a lyric sheet before they brought out Z Berg again for an a cappella selection, gathered around the omnidirectional mic.
But the night wasn't over! Gillian herself had announced from the stage their plans to infiltrate Sean and Sara's show in the Little Room. We took her up on that hot tip--and were treated to another hour-plus of music with most of the same personnel from the big room, minus the East Siders.
Sara somewhat apologized for the disorganized air; she explained that they were so used to rehearsing with each other that they didn't really know how to switch gears in front of people. I hope she realizes that's exactly what we love about these gigs; it's the closest we get to being flies on the wall, taking in our favorite artists.
I barely know what they played, partly because I didn't take any notes and partly because their traditional selections frequently escape me. However, I caught Sara and Sean's more contemporary covers ("No Surprises," "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get," "Pink Triangle"), as well as Benmont's comedy screeches on "Why Don't We Do It in the Road," and even I recognized Dylan's "Forever Young."
I feel like the boy who cried wolf; after naming "Cortez the Killer" and "Knuckleball Catcher" as two high points of the evening, I'm going to cite one more event. Toward the end of the show, the musicians decided to treat us (and, most likely, themselves) with "the greatest song ever," only no one knew the crucial "recitation." However, someone's iPhone was co-opted (amid several jokes about Flanny busting them for it), and Sean Watkins set about tracking down this mysterious track. Modern technology, being what it is, was less than cooperative at first, so to help pass the time, Dave and Gillian performed a little do-si-do on the tiny stage, already packed with five other people. Finally, Sean wrangled the lines and offered himself as the human teleprompter for Joe Tex's "Hold What You Got," featuring a couple of hearty soliloquys by David and Gillian. Extra points also go to David for his thespian flair.
See also:
» you got a lotta nerve
» hear them all
Showing posts with label jennylewis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jennylewis. Show all posts
Monday, March 09, 2009
Thursday, January 08, 2009
hear them all
This might be a precedent for me: a 24-hour turnaround, in the middle of the week, all while putting in a full day at the (virtual) office. Foolhardy? Frivolous? Flagrant? A word that doesn't start with "f"? Judge if you must, but keep in mind that we're talking about David Rawlings, Gillian Welch, and the first show of the year at Largo--a capital combo.
Dave Rawlings Machine, Largo at the Coronet, January 7, 2009: I was a bit baffled that this show wasn't listed as sold out; under Gillian's name, the duo packs much bigger venues. This gig wasn't even a secret, as it was noted on her Web site and mailing list. Sure, it was announced at a time when people are typically on vacation and away from their computers, and money can be tight after the holidays. But you'd think 300 people in a major metropolis/media hub would find their way to the Coronet.
As it turned out, the multitudes eventually arrived, and there was some scrambling before the show could commence. We weren't immune to this shuffling, but I'm happy to report that at least one of us got a surprise in their seating assignment.
After seeing David and Gillian's shows in the Little Room last month--not to mention that giddy, epic, almost hallucinatory night on Fairfax two-plus years ago--the biggest question for me was how they'd handle the move to the big room. Mind you, I always figured it was just a matter of time; Largo's main space is still a fraction the size of the venues the two typically play.
I can tell you what remained the same: their off-the-cuff manner, marked by David's admission after their first song, "Diamond Joe," that the planned portion of the evening had concluded. Gillian later commented that the show was simply an excuse to kick off the new year at Largo with friends and that they were merely the designated hosts.
Overall, their set comprised many of the songs the Rawlings Machine is known for and that we heard in the Little Room in December. We're talking about "Hear Them All/This Land Is Your Land," "Monkey and the Engineer," "Throw Me a Rope," and "Knuckleball Catcher." In fact, that sums up the first five songs of the night.
My notes break down after this because (1) I simply don't know several of the songs they played, (2) it's dark in the back of the Coronet, and (3) Gillian's promised "cavalcade of stars" joined in. What turned out to be a considerable roster of musician friends marked the biggest change from their show at the Little Room--well, that and David's lovely vintage suit. Don't think, however, that this revolving cast affected the show's overall tenor. There were no slick hand-offs or costume changes; the stage didn't revolve. Instead, David and Gillian excused themselves a number of times to duck behind the curtains and take account of the talent.
First up was Morgan Nagler of the Whispertown 2000 to reprise the "Sweet Tooth" (?) song they wrote together. I suspect you can read numerous double entendres in the lyrics, but it was an apt companion piece to "Big Rock Candy Mountain," sung--and partially flubbed--by David just a couple of songs prior.
As Morgan left, Benmont Tench and Don Heffington arrived, settling in as sort of the house band for much of the rest of the show. Benmont, of course, sat down at the piano, but Don, without a drum kit onstage, brought his own small snare drum and a set of brushes. They first kicked up "To Be Young (Is to Be Sad, Is to Be High)," then brought it down a notch with Harper Simon's appearance for two songs, one of his own and Neil Young's "Birds," sung with Gillian. For the latter, Sara Watkins also took her spot with them.
Harper's departure signaled Sean Watkins' arrival, and he fell in for a good run. My favorite selection from this segment was probably "River of Jordan." Though Sara was seemingly singled out for lead vocals, it became almost a four-fold chorus, with David, Gillian, and Sean chiming in too.
They didn't lose anyone when Willie Watson of the Old Crow Medicine Show stepped up. I was thrilled that their first choice was John Lennon's "Crippled Inside," but I didn't know their second song, "We're All in This Together," until informed after the concert. I saw Willie once before at the Watkins Family Hour, but his strong, distinctive voice rang out tonight.
Bonus: Benmont painted both songs with amazing details, though in entirely different ways. For the Lennon tune, he poured out the passion, then dusted the second song with the filmiest, prettiest notes you can imagine.
For me, the biggest surprise of the night came next: Jenny Lewis and Johnathan Rice. With David, Benmont, and Don, they sang "Love Hurts," currently a staple of their live set. But just as quickly, they were gone--to make way for Benmont's solo turn!
Not that it was intended as such--David egged Benmont on, then used the opportunity to check on the status of the next guest. Regardless, we took in Benmont all alone on the stage, the spotlight and our attention focused solely on him as he serenaded us with Irving Berlin's "How Deep Is the Ocean." Benmont has always been a great sport and thrown himself into whatever situation Largo requires, but this was one of the purest expressions of his talent and inspiration I've yet seen.
Furthermore, David was able to take care of business during Benmont's segment and returned with the last guest of the evening: Jackson Browne. With David, Gillian, Benmont, and Don, Jackson did one of his own songs, and at the risk of sounding ever more repetitive, I'd like to report that Ben brought it on this tune. David and Gillian's harmonies were sublime, as well.
For the big finale, they invited everyone back, though not everyone took them up on the offer. But rather than list the absences, let's check out the returnees: Benmont, Don, Sean, Sara, Harper, and Willie. Together, they built up a fierce, sweeping "Queen Jane Approximately." With Benmont and Don setting a particularly bracing foundation, David was free to deliver driving vocals and a relentless guitar solo.
David and Gillian honored our calls for an encore, just the two of them covering Neil Young's "Tired Eyes." Then for the true end-all, Benmont and Don once more took their spots, David and Gillian urged excessive reverb from the sound booth (though still not enough, in my book), and they regaled us with another of their favorite covers, "White Rabbit." In this respect, the Little Room couldn't measure up; heady and intoxicating, Gillian's voice and David's guitar swirled to the farthest recesses of the Coronet.
It's gonna be a great year.
See also:
» please take my advice
» that's all they really want
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
» any old time
» i'm not looking for a cure
As it turned out, the multitudes eventually arrived, and there was some scrambling before the show could commence. We weren't immune to this shuffling, but I'm happy to report that at least one of us got a surprise in their seating assignment.
After seeing David and Gillian's shows in the Little Room last month--not to mention that giddy, epic, almost hallucinatory night on Fairfax two-plus years ago--the biggest question for me was how they'd handle the move to the big room. Mind you, I always figured it was just a matter of time; Largo's main space is still a fraction the size of the venues the two typically play.
I can tell you what remained the same: their off-the-cuff manner, marked by David's admission after their first song, "Diamond Joe," that the planned portion of the evening had concluded. Gillian later commented that the show was simply an excuse to kick off the new year at Largo with friends and that they were merely the designated hosts.
Overall, their set comprised many of the songs the Rawlings Machine is known for and that we heard in the Little Room in December. We're talking about "Hear Them All/This Land Is Your Land," "Monkey and the Engineer," "Throw Me a Rope," and "Knuckleball Catcher." In fact, that sums up the first five songs of the night.
My notes break down after this because (1) I simply don't know several of the songs they played, (2) it's dark in the back of the Coronet, and (3) Gillian's promised "cavalcade of stars" joined in. What turned out to be a considerable roster of musician friends marked the biggest change from their show at the Little Room--well, that and David's lovely vintage suit. Don't think, however, that this revolving cast affected the show's overall tenor. There were no slick hand-offs or costume changes; the stage didn't revolve. Instead, David and Gillian excused themselves a number of times to duck behind the curtains and take account of the talent.
First up was Morgan Nagler of the Whispertown 2000 to reprise the "Sweet Tooth" (?) song they wrote together. I suspect you can read numerous double entendres in the lyrics, but it was an apt companion piece to "Big Rock Candy Mountain," sung--and partially flubbed--by David just a couple of songs prior.
As Morgan left, Benmont Tench and Don Heffington arrived, settling in as sort of the house band for much of the rest of the show. Benmont, of course, sat down at the piano, but Don, without a drum kit onstage, brought his own small snare drum and a set of brushes. They first kicked up "To Be Young (Is to Be Sad, Is to Be High)," then brought it down a notch with Harper Simon's appearance for two songs, one of his own and Neil Young's "Birds," sung with Gillian. For the latter, Sara Watkins also took her spot with them.
Harper's departure signaled Sean Watkins' arrival, and he fell in for a good run. My favorite selection from this segment was probably "River of Jordan." Though Sara was seemingly singled out for lead vocals, it became almost a four-fold chorus, with David, Gillian, and Sean chiming in too.
They didn't lose anyone when Willie Watson of the Old Crow Medicine Show stepped up. I was thrilled that their first choice was John Lennon's "Crippled Inside," but I didn't know their second song, "We're All in This Together," until informed after the concert. I saw Willie once before at the Watkins Family Hour, but his strong, distinctive voice rang out tonight.
Bonus: Benmont painted both songs with amazing details, though in entirely different ways. For the Lennon tune, he poured out the passion, then dusted the second song with the filmiest, prettiest notes you can imagine.
For me, the biggest surprise of the night came next: Jenny Lewis and Johnathan Rice. With David, Benmont, and Don, they sang "Love Hurts," currently a staple of their live set. But just as quickly, they were gone--to make way for Benmont's solo turn!
Not that it was intended as such--David egged Benmont on, then used the opportunity to check on the status of the next guest. Regardless, we took in Benmont all alone on the stage, the spotlight and our attention focused solely on him as he serenaded us with Irving Berlin's "How Deep Is the Ocean." Benmont has always been a great sport and thrown himself into whatever situation Largo requires, but this was one of the purest expressions of his talent and inspiration I've yet seen.
Furthermore, David was able to take care of business during Benmont's segment and returned with the last guest of the evening: Jackson Browne. With David, Gillian, Benmont, and Don, Jackson did one of his own songs, and at the risk of sounding ever more repetitive, I'd like to report that Ben brought it on this tune. David and Gillian's harmonies were sublime, as well.
For the big finale, they invited everyone back, though not everyone took them up on the offer. But rather than list the absences, let's check out the returnees: Benmont, Don, Sean, Sara, Harper, and Willie. Together, they built up a fierce, sweeping "Queen Jane Approximately." With Benmont and Don setting a particularly bracing foundation, David was free to deliver driving vocals and a relentless guitar solo.
David and Gillian honored our calls for an encore, just the two of them covering Neil Young's "Tired Eyes." Then for the true end-all, Benmont and Don once more took their spots, David and Gillian urged excessive reverb from the sound booth (though still not enough, in my book), and they regaled us with another of their favorite covers, "White Rabbit." In this respect, the Little Room couldn't measure up; heady and intoxicating, Gillian's voice and David's guitar swirled to the farthest recesses of the Coronet.
It's gonna be a great year.
See also:
» please take my advice
» that's all they really want
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
» any old time
» i'm not looking for a cure
Friday, October 31, 2008
i'm not looking for a cure
My roommate/cousin, in addition to providing valuable guidance to this former Rock Band/Guitar Hero neophyte, is a pretty good sport about coming to shows with me. It's only fair, then, that I reciprocate when possible--in this case, to see Jenny Lewis.
Jenny Lewis, Herbst Theatre, October 28, 2008: Even as a so-called young 'un, I enjoyed, at best, a tenuous connection with youth culture (exhibit A: my teenage advocacy of Nick Lowe), and it's only gotten worse through the years. Not that I'm particularly fixated on trends, but this mindset can be problematic when you draw your lifeblood from discovering new, exciting bands or performers.
In the case of Rilo Kiley, all I know is that at some point, I started hearing more about them, but I may have associated them with the likes of The O.C. (the television series) and assumed there was no place for me in their fanbase. This extended to Jenny Lewis' solo career. (See also: Death Cab for Cutie.) Mind you, this judgement has nothing to do with the quality of the music--only my silly hangups over the intended audience.
Of course, this isn't the first time--nor will it be the last--that my shortsightedness has kept me away from listening to worthwhile music for longer than need be (hello, Son Volt!). I'm still not convinced that I'll nurture more than a passing familiarity with Rilo Kiley's material, but I wouldn't mind lingering over Jenny's solo catalog.
I freely admit that it all starts with Jenny's captivating voice, despite my ambivalence over female singers in general. On a handful of songs, her singing was so smooth, though, that the tunes almost veered into adult contemporary, but they were the exception rather than the rule. At their best, her vocals ebb and flow with such ease and grace that you assume the words are pure autobiography--how else could anyone sing so convincingly of such events and recollections?
Personally, I neither know nor care how much of her words are rooted in true events; all that matters is that they sound like they are. I can't think of a better example of this than the song "Acid Tongue," featuring Jenny on acoustic guitar and the rest of her band gathered around her and a single microphone to contribute harmonies. Then again, I'm a sucker for that busking vibe.
She filled out her set of tracks from her two solo albums with the Gram Parsons cover "Love Hurts," accompanied by her boyfriend and bandmate Johnathon Rice, and a new song whose title I didn't catch. Though Jenny is often considered an indie rock pinup, the most ardent fans at this show appeared to be of the female persuasion. One shouted out a marriage proposal from the balcony, though most seemed content to cheer her on. I can hardly blame them; her mix of talent, confidence, and individuality is hard to resist.
The show featured two openers. Pierre de Reeder, also from Rilo Kiley, kicked off the proceedings, and Beechwood Sparks filled out the roster. Pierre turned out a catchy, well-paced set, but I can't say the same for Beechwood Sparks. I wanted to like them, especially now that I've cast off most of the Brit-leaning preferences that dominated back when I saw them open for Saint Etienne (or am I hallucinating that show?). Instead, I found it hard to maintain my interest as one song flowed into the next.
See also:
» searching for light in the darkness of insanity
» i see my light come shining
Jenny Lewis, Herbst Theatre, October 28, 2008: Even as a so-called young 'un, I enjoyed, at best, a tenuous connection with youth culture (exhibit A: my teenage advocacy of Nick Lowe), and it's only gotten worse through the years. Not that I'm particularly fixated on trends, but this mindset can be problematic when you draw your lifeblood from discovering new, exciting bands or performers.
In the case of Rilo Kiley, all I know is that at some point, I started hearing more about them, but I may have associated them with the likes of The O.C. (the television series) and assumed there was no place for me in their fanbase. This extended to Jenny Lewis' solo career. (See also: Death Cab for Cutie.) Mind you, this judgement has nothing to do with the quality of the music--only my silly hangups over the intended audience.
Of course, this isn't the first time--nor will it be the last--that my shortsightedness has kept me away from listening to worthwhile music for longer than need be (hello, Son Volt!). I'm still not convinced that I'll nurture more than a passing familiarity with Rilo Kiley's material, but I wouldn't mind lingering over Jenny's solo catalog.
I freely admit that it all starts with Jenny's captivating voice, despite my ambivalence over female singers in general. On a handful of songs, her singing was so smooth, though, that the tunes almost veered into adult contemporary, but they were the exception rather than the rule. At their best, her vocals ebb and flow with such ease and grace that you assume the words are pure autobiography--how else could anyone sing so convincingly of such events and recollections?
Personally, I neither know nor care how much of her words are rooted in true events; all that matters is that they sound like they are. I can't think of a better example of this than the song "Acid Tongue," featuring Jenny on acoustic guitar and the rest of her band gathered around her and a single microphone to contribute harmonies. Then again, I'm a sucker for that busking vibe.
She filled out her set of tracks from her two solo albums with the Gram Parsons cover "Love Hurts," accompanied by her boyfriend and bandmate Johnathon Rice, and a new song whose title I didn't catch. Though Jenny is often considered an indie rock pinup, the most ardent fans at this show appeared to be of the female persuasion. One shouted out a marriage proposal from the balcony, though most seemed content to cheer her on. I can hardly blame them; her mix of talent, confidence, and individuality is hard to resist.
The show featured two openers. Pierre de Reeder, also from Rilo Kiley, kicked off the proceedings, and Beechwood Sparks filled out the roster. Pierre turned out a catchy, well-paced set, but I can't say the same for Beechwood Sparks. I wanted to like them, especially now that I've cast off most of the Brit-leaning preferences that dominated back when I saw them open for Saint Etienne (or am I hallucinating that show?). Instead, I found it hard to maintain my interest as one song flowed into the next.
See also:
» searching for light in the darkness of insanity
» i see my light come shining
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