mercy sakes alive

The vague intention to attend Paul F. Tompkins's show at Largo became a set plan after we learned the significance of this gig, Paul's last--for a while--at Largo.

The Paul F. Tompkins Show, Largo at the Coronet, September 9, 2008: Generally, I'm not big on sentimentality; I try to live by the idea that no matter what grand times have transpired, there's so much good stuff waiting to be discovered or cultivated that you're doing yourself a disservice when you chain yourself to the past. But that tenet is severely tested by events such as this one, when it seems all but impossible to not grow wistful over shared memories.

Of course, Largo has undergone one rather major change this year, and it was in those last days on Fairfax that I saw my one other official Paul F. Tompkins Show, though he's been a welcome presence on several occasions at gigs by other artists. In fact, he may have even stolen the spotlight from Aimee Mann earlier this summer...

Aimee couldn't make it for this show (something about a tour), but a host of other Largo-centric musical talent dropped in for Paul's farewell party. Sara Watkins joined Paul's usual backing band, headed by Eban Schletter, for the opening number, the Arcade Fire song "Keep the Car Running," crooned by Paul himself. Later in the show, Grant-Lee Phillips tested out two new tracks, and at the end, they all reconvened for a couple of travel-related songs to send Paul on his way: a mashup of "Convoy" and "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." In addition to handling most of the vocal duties, Paul and Grant treated us to a dash of do-si-do till they went dizzy (to understandably comical effect). Unfortunately, they didn't reprise their ode to Shark Week, one of the more recent Largo memories that I'm forever chasing, so I'm left nursing that recollection in my mind instead.

As the capper, Paul stuck to his trademark tune, "Danny Boy," though with a nod to Billy Joel thrown in at the end. Tonight, it was easy to discern the palpable pathos in his voice and delivery--no joke.

Though the Greg Proops Chat Show is still fresh in my memory, I know it would be dumb to compare the two comics. Instead, I prefer to share the opinion of another funny guy in regard to tonight's headliner. Take it away, John Hodgman, as quoted in GQ:

Paul F. Tompkins, by contrast, owns his own comedy tuxedo. He tells the kind of well-tailored luxuriously subtle jokes that I wish my brain could produce. (He also speaks with perfect diction, which we all know is hilarious.)

Tonight's comedy couture covered such topics as his landlord, sweatshops, bikers, and the New York housing market, to name a few. That's sort of all I can tell you because the beauty of Paul F. Tompkins's comedy is that there's never really a punchline; you just get swept up in the absurdity of his stories, and you love it. And his diction, it goes without saying.

Perhaps the biggest irony of Paul's move is that he was one of the biggest boosters of Largo at the Coronet, back when doubts and predictions of doom reigned. Largo's loss is Best Week Ever's gain, and Paul halfway shot down any ideas about L.A. shows for the foreseeable future. Then again, he didn't rule them out completely either. Like many others, I hope that this won't be the last we'll see of him on the West Coast, but I also realize he left us with words to live by:

So keep the bugs off yer glass
An' the bears off yer tail
We gonna catch ya on the flip-flop

Over and out, good buddy.

See also:
» this old nightclub stole my youth
» probably more like hanging around
» hidden hand
» part of everyone's rite of passage

probably more like hanging around

Did I want to attend Largo at the Coronet's inaugural show with Aimee Mann? You betcha, but you gotta choose your battles/itineraries. Besides, the club is new, and I'll surely be back often--Largo overload will beckon soon enough.

Aimee Mann, Largo at the Coronet, June 9, 2008: One of the things I hate about growing older as a concertgoer is the choice of venues I'm supposed to favor. OK, I don't exactly love general admission campouts, and I'm not really willing to deal with two opening acts and 11:30 p.m. headlining slots these days, but dammit, I'm not dead yet! I hate that I'm expected to patronize the summer winery circuit--those prim, seated, admittedly lovely outdoor venues, usually out in the 'burbs, intended for musicians and fans of a certain age. Unfortunately, that's where the likes of Aimee Mann, Crowded House, and others often end up these days.

I, however, get to gloat that I don't have to put up with them, as long as I'm willing to make a trip down south. And if you've read this blog before, you know where my compass points. Also, I'm now hooked on seeing Aimee at Largo, where she seems more willing to take chances and diverge from the premeditated plans.

Aimee's first utterance to the audience certainly fell into the "divergence" category, as her disembodied voice sounded out over the PA. It was so unexpected, in fact, that we didn't realize she was talking until she sharpened her tone and told us to shut up and to welcome Paul F. Tompkins to the stage. I'm kinda killing it here, but I swear it was a lot funnier than I can get across.

Speaking of funny, PFT was, as usual, great in his brief opening set. He was probably at his most hilarious not during his act proper, but when he went to introduce Aimee, who was still tuning and asked him to keep talking until she and the band were ready. There followed several minutes of the two of them jokingly sniping at each other through the Coronet's heavy drapes. I can't say much more about it except that PFT capped the conversation with the most hyperbolic introduction ever (there was something about us chopping off our hands after the show because we would never clap as we had this evening)--which Aimee not so humbly accepted.

The Largo schedule listed Aimee with a full band tonight, but only Paul Bryan and Jamie Edwards accompanied her. She explained the omission later, but I didn't particularly mind, as I love this grouping. They weren't alone, though, as a harmonica player (Jack Rudy), Aimee's customary drummer (John Sands), and even PFT himself joined them at various points in the set. In PFT's case, he filled in for Sean Hayes on "Ballantines."

As you might expect, they went heavy on the @#%&! Smilers material and filled out the rest of the set with older titles, including Magnolia tunes, the seasonally apt "4th of July," and the relatively left-field choice of "Long Shot." In addition, they covered '70s-era Elton John and Rod Stewart, keeping with Aimee's comments in recent interviews that she was going for the decade's singer/songwriter vibe for this album.

I'm pretty crazy about Aimee's music, but I gotta say, Smilers is the first of her albums since Bachelor No. 2 to grab me so quickly. For me, at least, the difference is clear: Paul Bryan's production chops have proven a worthy match for her impeccable songwriting. His arrangements and other creative details really bring out the nuances of her music: the gallows humor and the damning self-knowledge, especially in contrast to her utterly hummable melodies.

As much as I dig Smilers, I was surprised to hear the songs in their final studio versions, especially after listening to several of them develop over the last few years. Who knew there'd be so much Moog on the record? Or that "Medicine Wheel," which she first played at Largo two years ago (as a tip of the hat to Fiona Apple), would morph from a challenge to herself to a stinging rebuke? In fact, all the songs I thought were charming jaunts in their earlier incarnations ("Borrowing Time," for example) reveal their thorns on the album, and they carried a lot more weight tonight. However, I chalk up this disparity more to my general denseness than to Aimee's writing.

My hatred of the winery circuit isn't the only rationalization I dredged up to see this show; I just love the affect Largo has on Aimee. In addition to bantering with PFT, she rolled out great stories, including the belabored process of making music for movies ("Borrowing Time"), the famous director who inspired "Cigarettes and Red Vines," and not so much a jab at Feist, but at the biz's short-term memory, including that of her manager.

Largo's halo effect was probably most evident in the encore, which extended beyond her typical couple of tunes. As a bonus, she didn't dismiss most of the audience requests out of hand (though she commented that she's the "anti-Jon Brion" because she never remembers words or chords or if even she's heard the song before). I thought for a second we might get my request for "Ray," but my hunch proved wrong. Still, I can't complain about the final cut of songs, comprising one of my favorites from The Forgotten Arm ("Video"); the misheard "blue balls," which Aimee sarcastically berated until she discovered that the fan had actually asked for "Little Bombs"; and charmingly cobbled-together "Ghost World."

One final note before I go: Due to crossed signals and general miscalculations, we barely made it to our seats before they shut the gates. Man, I would've had egg on my face if I'd screwed up this one. To anyone who might accompany me to Largo at the Coronet in the future: It won't happen again, I promise!

See also:
» unless you hate baby jesus
» i'm the stuff of happy endings
» today's the day

this old nightclub stole my youth

Presenting the denouement of "More Ways to Run Yourself Ragged in SoCal, The Continuing Series"--for now!

Paul F. Tompkins, Largo, May 3, 2008: The list is long and a mountain of evidence has accumulated, but here's another example of how you know you've found your people: Although your weekend plans already include a major gig, you hatch a plot to drive to San Diego for an early concert, then book it back to Los Angeles for a later show. And no one bats an eye. This is where I belong.

I don't really have time for people bemoaning they never made it to Largo, but I'm guilty of a similar offense, having never attended any of Paul F. Tompkins's shows at the club. You know, they used to be on a Monday, then they didn't happen for a while, and I got to see him with other artists, and I live in San Francisco, and I have a job ... blah blah blah. Good thing, then, that we got in under the wire for his last show at Largo on Fairfax.

Actually, "under the wire" might be debatable as he had already revved up the revue for a packed house by the time we arrived, but we slipped in regardless to plant ourselves at his feet. Of all the vantages I've taken in a show at Largo, it was my first time in this particular spot. It wasn't particularly cozy, but aside from one small joke Paul made at our expense, we escaped otherwise unscathed--a triumph at any comedy show!

This is a concert blog, so I'll cover the music portion of the evening. Though Paul was accompanied by a three-piece band, we didn't see much of them at first because Sean and Sara Watkins hit the boards instead. They played a Dylan song, per Flanny's suggestion. Soon after, the whole gang (Jon, Benmont, Fiona, the Watkins, PFT's band) crashed the stage for Paul's rendition of an old tune from Sesame Street, "Inchworm," that apparently went down in flames, because/in spite of the crowd's attempt to sing along.

The collective, in fact, didn't have to do too much, as they settled on a composition that Fiona had written just for Largo. I'm not a fan of Fiona, but the work was, by all measures, a delight, namechecking several staffers, as well as the musicians gathered beside her, though Paul alerted us to the one glaring omission: himself! He recovered long enough to belt out the Old 97s "Niteclub" with Sean and Sara.

He closed the show with a long list of all the great things awaiting us at Largo at the Coronet, including the promise of gelato (!), but mainly the fact that all the artists were incredibly excited about the space and that enthusiasm could only make for better shows. The final song of the night was "Danny Boy," featuring Paul on vocals and Eban Schletter on piano.

Paul had called Jon Brion's gig the night before the "wake" for Largo, which made his show the "baby shower." But the finality of the night (no doubt combined with the exhaustion and hunger hitting us) felt more acute, as I realized this would be the last time I walked through those doors. Though I fall somewhat shy of the dozen-year mark of some Largo regulars, I've enjoyed an incomparable decade of shows at the old club.

See you on LaCienega.

See also:
» all is full of love
» it can't all be wedding cake

you look like a perfect fit

Comedy and music coming together--it sounds like a certain place I love so much, but in fact, it's happening in my own town. Would you believe it just happened to include some of the names from that other place? Go figure!

Aimee Mann, Mezzanine, January 10, 2008: I'm a latecomer to San Francisco Sketchfest, but I had a great time at a couple of events last year. I would've been happy if they kept me solely in stitches, but the fest's organizers apparently decided to up the ante this year by bringing in musical guests as well. Even better, they chose one of my favorite artists, Aimee Mann, for opening night festivities.

But Aimee was only one part of the show, and before she came on, we took in a full roster of comics. Heading up the night were Kristen Schaal (Mel from Flight of the Conchords) and Kurt Braunohler, sort of channeling Donny and Marie, complete with costume changes, but with much better banter and dirtier jokes. In addition to Kristen and Kurt, Rhys Darby (also from Flight of the Conchords) showed off his sound-effects skills, Todd Barry slayed me, and Paul F. Tompkins spent about half his set trying to avoid telling his material. That's as much as I can report, though, as I prefer to leave the punchlines to the professionals.

Aimee, with Paul Bryan's accompaniment, closed out the show with a short set that included a couple of older songs ("Little Bombs" and "Save Me") and three new tunes, likely from her upcoming album. I've now heard "Freeway" at three different shows, and this supercatchy, upbeat rocker shows all the signs of being Aimee's next single (remember those things?). On the other hand, "31 Today" was new to me, though I know there's a video of the song readily available on the Internet. Both "31 Today" and "Columbus Avenue" were more in the mold of Aimee's introspective observational pieces.



Perhaps to offset the emotional downturn (not to mention the rising chatter in the club), Aimee brought out Paul F. Tompkins to help her close out the set with "I Want You to Want Me." Paul added a surprisingly twangy touch to the vocals, but as usual, he did himself and his friends proud.

Of course, Aimee (along with both Pauls and several other players) had come through San Francisco just last month for her Christmas show, but it was a different crowd and an entirely different context tonight. Toward the end of their segment, Aimee and Paul F. Tompkins joked about no one paying attention to their banter anyway. Though this was far from true, it was hard to tune out the buzz of voices coming from the back of the room. They stuck it out anyway, taking it in stride with a loose, goofy spirit.



Do comedy and music go together? Good lord, yes! And when done right, it's right up there with peanut butter and chocolate as one of the coolest combos known to humanity. I applaud Sketchfest for making moves in this direction, but maybe the execution will work a little better next time.

See also:
» unless you hate baby jesus

unless you hate baby jesus

With my own Christmas plans somewhat derailed this year, it's nice to know that at least some traditions are going strong. Also, if you have room at the stable for me and two dogs this Christmas, drop me a line!

Aimee Mann's Second Annual Christmas Show, Bimbo's 365 Club, December 2 and 3, 2007: Back when I sent out Christmas cards, I may have pulled the supremely cheapo move of collecting extras from years past and mailing them, with the hope that the same card wouldn't land in the same friend's mailbox.

I don't know if Aimee Mann does that, but her Christmas show, in a manner of speaking, does not.



So though we saw some of her friends (Paul F. Tompkins, Morgan Murphy) and bandmates (bassist Paul Bryan, pianist/keyboardist Jamie Edwards, and drummer John Sands, accompanied by new--for the group--addition Mark Spencer on lead guitar) return to the lineup, we also got a good dose of fresh material too.

The biggest update was a little film Aimee presented, charting her "Peanuts"-like "journey" to the Christmas show. I won't try to describe it too much, except to note that it was hilarious and that both Aimee's and Paul F. Tompkins's acting chops were spot-on. Oh, friends-of-Largo John Krasinski, Emily Proctor, Fred Armisen, Bob Odenkirk, Patton Oswalt, Ben Stiller, and Will Ferrell turned in cameos too. But don't let those names dazzle and derail you; as good as they were, Aimee was the star attraction.

Also new this year was a seemingly local emphasis on musical talent, as Aimee tapped a couple of Bay Area figures for the show. This is where I hang my head in shame, as my incessant rock tourism has led me to squander a lot of opportunities to see the acts who happen to live and work in town. Thankfully, artists such as Aimee take up the slack, as both Sean Hayes and Chuck Prophet were pretty awesome, though in different ways.

Sean Hayes, who graces Largo from time to time, exhibited many of the characteristics you'd expect from someone familiar with the club. That is, his songs were thoughtful, wry, and effortless, and his stage presence assured and welcoming. On the second night, he and Aimee performed a duet that will appear on her new album, and both nights, he rolled out the only song in his repertoire that could be vaguely connected to Christmas: a tune about having sex on the living room floor with Mary Magdalene.

Chuck Prophet, on the other hand, brought the rawk. He and Aimee belted the Christmas song that Michael Penn and Jon Brion wrote a million years ago, then with just her band, he dug into covers of Iggy Pop and Alex Chilton songs. The second night, the band seemed to especially relish the second number, roaring out the "hey"s in unison.



Paul and Morgan reprised their roles as comic foils and showed off their musical bent along the way. Paul provided the especially louche-sounding half of "Baby It's Cold Outside," complete with a moral to the story ("no means no"), as well as the more authoritarian tone to "You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch." In between songs, he also worked his stand-up, sharing a combination Christmas story/public service announcement that DARE might want to get behind.

Morgan donned the body suit and tutu once more (along with a big cardboard cut-out of the Star of David hanging on her chest) for her turn as the Hanukkah Fairy. This year, however, she was more than the window dressing for the show, as she also kicked out a rap about the story of Hanukkah, complete with backing vocals from Aimee herself. Yet again, I will invoke audience privilege and not attempt to replicate her rhymes, except to say that there was a shout-out to Loehmann's and the Trader Joe's on Geary and Masonic among the couplets. Though she stole the show, the Hanukkah Fairy couldn't join us the second night, as she had to fly back to L.A. for a one-line role in a Jeremy Piven movie. Hmph.



Aimee's musical contributions were fairly similar to what we heard last year, highlighting songs from her Christmas album, and for the most part, they hit the older tracks you'd expect too. Thus, we got some of the slightly more holiday-themed songs ("Clean Up for Christmas," "Jacob Marley's Chains"), as well as her go-to favorite hits ("Deathly," "Save Me"). I always want to hear "Deathly," but Aimee reworked it this round, starting out with just her voice and the acoustic guitar, bringing in the band, then ending on a gospel-like flourish, in the process delivering on the song's grand arc, both lyrical and musical.

On the second night, Aimee also tried out a couple of tunes from her forthcoming album (due out in the spring), including the aforementioned duet with Sean as well as "Freeway," which I recall hearing the one time I've seen her at Largo.



December means a lot of things to me, as it does to many people, but if Aimee's willing to make her Christmas show a regular gig, I'm glad to add another item to that long list of associated events.

See also:
» we can be us
» it's not going to stop
» i'm the stuff of happy endings

hidden hand

Going to a lot of shows tends to make me want to see more shows, even by artists I'm not stalking. Thus, it makes complete sense that in the midst of a sizable rock tourism jag, I'd try to shoehorn one or two more into the schedule. After all, Largo was a short drive up LaCienaga from LAX to Evonne's anyway--might as well stop in for Grant-Lee Phillips' show.

Grant-Lee Phillips, Largo, August 25, 2007: I'll skip the usual preamble about my longtime interest in Grant, except to say that the last show I attended left me a little disheartened. I'm usually the first person to say you should move on if an artist no longer interests you, but I realize that for music nerds such as myself, this medium and our associations with it can complicate matters. Quite simply, it makes me sad to think that maybe I can't get anything else from Grant's artistry, which led me down at least a few promising musical tracks through the ages.

Before that question could be answered, we were required to satisfy Largo's minimum order requirement, and we took the opportunity to gawk at Aimee Mann at the back of the room. We made out a couple of other familiar figures, though no one could decide if Michael Penn was with her; we eventually decided he wasn't.

One of the barflies turned out to be the night's opener: Paul F. Tompkins, whom I adore. He opened with a joke seemingly aimed directly at our table, pitting the residents of Los Angeles vs. those of San Francisco and New York. I can't comment on his characterization of New Yorkers, but he hit the nail on the head regarding the typical San Franciscan's disdain for our southern neighbors. Let it be known, though, that I may be the staunchest defender of the Southland that I know (as well I should, at this point).

He closed with his pie-vs.-cake debate, which I've heard before, but it's a question that deserves to be posed often. If I didn't hate typical comedy clubs so much, I'd see Paul's shows more often, but for now, I'll settle for occasional visits to Largo or the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater.

Time came for Grant to hit the stage, where he was joined by Paul Bryan and Jay Bellerose from his last touring incarnation. Their set comprised a fair sampling of much of Grant's work over the years, with a slight emphasis on Strangelet, the most recent release. For example, we heard "Fountain of Youth" featuring Jamie from Aimee's band on piano, and on "Calamity Jane," Grant wrung out a gorgeous sustain on electric guitar that I don't remember in the original version.

We also got a batch of wonderful Grant Lee Buffalo tunes, some by request ("Jupiter and Teardrop"), while others came more spontaneously. The aforementioned Jamie stuck around for "Truly Truly," but Grant took the lead on "Lady Godiva and Me" on electric guitar in a rendition and style that kept me guessing for longer than usual (I usually recognize the song immediately). Grant even turned out one new song that didn't yet have a title.

The showcase of the evening had to be the Grant-Paul F. Tompkins duet. Grant set the scene, asking for a summery vibe from Paul Bryan and reminiscing over the season's celebrations. He then called up Paul F. Tompkins, and the two revealed their tradition of getting together for Shark Week. Meanwhile, the beat had started to pick up behind them, and before we knew it, they were singing an original song about the Discovery Channel's popular series to the tune of "Mack the Knife." Grant and Paul dispensed all manner of shark facts and anecdotes, including mentions of hammerheads, "cartilaginous skeletons" (taken verbatim from the song!), and their multiple rows of teeth, while simultaneously outvamping the Rat Pack. If this reminds you in the least of their collaboration for Aimee Mann's Christmas show, you're on the right track.

Aimee, alas, remained in the shadows for the whole show and didn't grace the stage, which is somewhat understandable, given her recent three-night stand at the club. She hung out, however, to bolster her friends and colleagues.

The show definitely added at least a few more years to my Grant-Lee appreciation. Thanks, Largo, for reminding me of what he can deliver.

See also:
» Take Me Home, Country Pigeon
» it's all in good spirits
» it's not going to stop

I'm offering this simple phrase

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Setlist:
Paul F. Tompkins (opener)

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

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

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

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

been hoping that you'd drop in

I'm working my way through only-at-Largo events, and the Watkins Family Hour has come up. Finally, a real-world application of my former rules of rock tourism (rule number two: cram as many shows into a single trip as possible)!

The Watkins Family Hour, Largo, December 21, 2006: Somewhere during my slow sidle toward twang, Nickel Creek popped up, and to be perfectly honest, I was skeptical for no good reason other than my own idiosyncratic bias. But on the strength of other people's recommendations and their own sterling reputation, I caught them once, though it was from afar at a music festival while I waited for Wilco to come onstage. It helped that they did Jon Brion's "Trouble" that day as well.

But over the years, Sara and Sean Watkins have won me over with their appearances at Largo, and tonight was my opportunity to see them on their own merits. Sure, the message on Largo's answering machine promised surprise guests, but the tease hasn't been a motivating factor for me for a long time. Rather, I just wanted to hear some good music in a welcoming environment. Considering Sean and Sara's substantial catalog of titles, as well as their treasure trove of favorite covers, I knew that I wouldn't have to worry about the night's song selection.

Thanks to Evonne's tip, I knew that the Watkins Family Hour is an incredibly loose affair, with a lot of song decisions settled by audibles and impromptu consultations, à la what may be my favorite show of the year and nearly every multiple-artist congregation I've ever witnessed at Largo.

The show started off seemingly deliberately, with just Sean and Sara onstage, but almost immediately, they were joined by Benmont Tench on piano, then by Mike Witcher on dobro. In what I take to be the norm at Largo, the players traded off solo turns for each song. Benmont extended his streak as Largo's ultimate team player, turning out note after endless wonderful note, while somehow maintaining that unassuming, effortless air that only makes you want to hear more of his piano magic. Sean and Sara were both very laid-back leaders, happy to let others take the spotlight as the song required.

As it was the Christmas show, we got to hear a bunch of seasonal favorites, with the help of even more guests. Fiona Apple came out for a couple of songs, including a very different "Frosty the Snowman" than most of us are used to. It was sort of strange to see Fiona's wispy shadow of a figure in contrast to Sara Watkins's glowing health, but leave it to Largo to bring their talents together.

Paul F. Tompkins dropped in as well, and he threw himself into the festivities, including a shambolic but charming version of "Baby It's Cold Outside." He also treated us to his own hilarious material, including a joke about the hidden meaning of the greeting "happy holidays" (translation: "Happy Hanukkah, potential Jewish person").

Finally, toward the end of the show, while the band performed "Different Drum," a lanky figure slipped in through the side door and found a spot for himself and his celeste on the tiny stage. Hey, what do you know? It was Jon Brion, who went to town on the song, accommodations (or lack thereof) be damned.

Though Jon didn't seem to mind either way, Largo staff was able to throw together a couple of milk crates together for him during the between-song break, before Fiona returned for "White Christmas," the faux closer. The band took a short encore break before coming back for the real finale. True to form, they took a little while to decide on how to close the show. At first, it seemed like we'd lose Benmont and Jon, but Sara and Sean lured both of them back; in my book, Sean won brownie points by snaring Jon's participation in his insistence that no Hank Williams track is complete without a celeste.

As far as I'm concerned, Benmont and Jon have carte blanche to do as they please onstage, but I was especially tickled by their respective solos, followed by their dueling keyboards on "Hey Good Looking." In the meantime, Sara and Sean belted out the tune with just the right combination of verve and mischief.

See also:
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, and Greg

it's not going to stop

Regular readers almost got a reprieve. I'd vaguely planned to catch a Cat Power show over Thanksgiving weekend, despite my earlier claims of having hit the Chan Marshall wall. Alas, it didn't happen (I blame the tryptophan), so you're stuck with the usual objects of my obsession.

While we're on the subject, a warning: Barring extenuating circumstances, it's gonna be nearly all Largo, all the time until the end of 2006, including the following Largo-away-from-Largo scenario. You're on notice.

Aimee Mann's 1st Annual Christmas Show, Bimbo's 365 Club, December 4 and 5, 2006: I've squandered a lot of opportunities to see Aimee Mann, perhaps most foolishly during her (arguably) best years, following the success of Magnolia and her masterpiece Bachelor No. 2. It took that long for me to realize how much I love her. But I got a lucky break when I caught the Acoustic Vaudeville tour, featuring Aimee, Michael Penn, and Patton Oswalt at Bimbo's in 2000. I'm pretty sure nostalgia originally moved me to buy tickets to that show, but ultimately, the gig is less a testament to a longing for the past than a peek at my future life as a Largo nerd.

Only time will tell if the gigs' "1st annual" appellation will hold up, but at least the "Christmas" billing was well represented onstage. In addition to the usual array of instruments, more symbols of the season dotted the setup: a pair of reindeer, a Christmas tree, several stockings, strings of lights. Despite these details and the addition of some of Largo's favorite names, I don't think we really knew what to expect from the show.

Even after Aimee and the band had worked their way through a couple of songs, their intentions weren't clear until Paul F. Tompkins joined them onstage. As Aimee and Paul chatted back and forth (with Aimee getting in as many zingers as Paul), they revealed that they were going for a Bob Hope/Andy Williams/Donnie & Marie vibe. Aimee and Paul also proved that their friendship is not just an affectation for the tour. They bantered effortlessly and giddily, though it also felt like they were sharing a big private joke that we couldn't guess at.

In the spirit of those '70s holiday specials, Aimee eventually duetted with each of her big-name guests: Paul, Grant-Lee Phillips, and John C. Reilly. Paul, especially, sounded better than expected. Each also got his time in the spotlight: Paul with his MC responsibilities, Grant as his usual troubador self, and John turning in spoken word duties.

I've never caught Paul's standup, so I'm not familiar with his style apart from what I've seen on VH1's Best Week Ever. I think I like his banter more than his routine, but I loved what he added to the mix. As I've stated again and again, Grant-Lee is one of my longtime favorites, and his voice is always a beautiful thing. I was just happy to hear him with an electric backing band for the first time in a while! I adored hearing Aimee on backing vocals for "Truly Truly," and you had to smile at his duet with Paul on "Little Drummer Boy" (with a heavy tip of the hat to Bing Crosby and David Bowie). John C. Reilly's singing chops are well known, but watching him act out some of the lines from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, I realized that may be the closest I ever get to seeing him in a play.

Rounding out the cast were cameos by Scott Miller (the Loud Family); on the first night, he treated us to an old hymn and a Peanuts classic, but when he did his own songs the second night (complete with an Aimee duet), I understood the connection Aimee must feel with his detailed and maudlin songcraft. Last but not least was Morgan Murphy playing the Hanukkah Fairy--in a white body suit and a pink tutu. Morgan was pretty funny when I saw her with Aimee at Largo back in April, but at Bimbo's, she stole the show. Her mention of the Trader Joe's on Masonic alone was worth the cost of admission.

What about the hostess? In addition to her razor-sharp wit, Aimee treated us to a set heavy on selections from her new Christmas album and a handful of her own songs, including the always popular Magnolia-era hits. The last few times I've seen Aimee, she's turned on her inner Joni Mitchell, and she did so again both nights. It worked nicely on "Red Vines," but "Deathly" didn't fare so well. Though I liked what she did with the vocals, I wasn't a fan of the overall arrangement. One of my favorite aspects of the song is the build toward the bridge, and this new version sort of erased that wonderful, suspenseful effect. That might be my only complaint, especially since she gave us what she claimed was her first-ever performance of "Way Back When."

The ensemble closed out the show in the only way that made sense: with a big singalong visited by both Santa Claus (John C. Reilly) and the Hanukkah Fairy. I was gonna let you guess which one brought the confetti, but I couldn't resist posting the picture.

It's an odd affliction, the need to see an artist repeatedly for fear of missing some nuance that could cast a brand-new light on the performer in question. I know that most bands' performances don't change much, but I'm willing to stick it out for those nuggets of originality, especially if they're sandwiched between songs I love so much.

At this point, you don't have to ask me of all people if it was worth going to both nights. The two shows shared more elements than differences, but we got a slightly different setlist over the two nights, and the participants even mixed up their stage banter. If I had to choose, I guess I liked the first night better, if only because the group seemed less sure of themselves and, thus, more open to goofiness. In fact, Aimee later mentioned that the show felt more like a dress rehearsal than a real gig, but I think this loose take really energized the festivities. The second night, the crowd felt more responsive, and I enjoyed seeing what the performers did to keep the material fresh for themselves.

See also:
» i'm the stuff of happy endings