you are blessed

Rocktober is a magical time in the Bay Area, but I'm not the one to report it, as my concert calendar has shrunken over the years. But give me a gig in a tiny venue with a talent like Tom Brosseau, and I'll be there, no problem.

Tom Brosseau, the Lost Church, October 4, 2018

I'm a little embarrassed because I'm going to report right away that I can't name a single song that Tom played at the show. This is what I get for not taking notes and not writing my reviews immediately! So if you don't mind that little confession, I'll proceed with my post as normal.

This gig has been a long time coming for me. I've been able to see Tom Brosseau many times at Largo, including when he opened for Jon Brion. He's also a frequent guest of the Watkins Family. In fact, if you get the chance to watch the Largo movie, you'll be treated to see at least one song from him. I feel that I've seen him many more times, even if I can't point to the posts that prove this.



In any case, I love his voice, but I've failed to see his shows in the Bay Area. As I recall, he often plays at house gigs or not quite in San Francisco -- or maybe I simply haven't been on top of proceedings. Bottom line: I finally got to go.

The Lost Church is a tiny space a couple of blocks from the BART station at 16th and Mission. A hostess welcomed me at the door and informed me (and other attendees) that I was blessed. Inside, it's warm and cozy, seating no more than 50 or 60 people in a semicircle around a slightly elevated stage. You couldn't have asked for a better environment.

Tom hit the stage with only an acoustic guitar and a few pages of notes. As you can imagine, he stuck with the troubador formula. A good chunk of his performance featured stories about Lou Curtiss, a folk music aficionado in San Diego who recently passed away. Tom told of the many songs that Lou had taught him, and he even played a few of them, including one from the Carter Family. My favorite aside was Tom's comment that all Carter Family tracks started the same.

Tom ended up reading from the notes he carried onstage. He didn't say what they were. They might've been lyrics to a new song, though they also sounded substantial enough to be a short story of some sort. I guess we'll have to tune in to see how they turn out.

And of course, along the way, he told a few stories about growing up in North Dakota, and he talked a little bit about what he felt were his duties as an artist (i.e., not necessarily being political, yet trying to reflect the times). I don't know the audience's familiarity with Tom, but when he mentioned Largo, a handful of people clapped, and when he asked for requests from his catalog, one person offered a suggestion. Overall, we were attentive and respectful, and I hope he appreciated our high regard for his performance.

A local artist named Meredith Axelrod opened the show. She sang a number of standards, joking that every song was from 1902 or about the 1930s. I don't know if it was a matter of training or her innate abilities, but her voice was a perfect throwback to that time, one you could imagine coming from a Victrola. She and Tom sang a song about a horse together (sorry again for the lack of titles). They were a lovely match and hinted at the possibility of touring together in the future.

Now that I've finally seen Tom play in the Bay Area, I can happily report that I'll be back whenever he is.

See also:
» i was dreamin' when i wrote this
» blue christmas

i was dreamin' when i wrote this

This will be the only Jon Brion show I get to for the first half of the year, and right now, it's hard to say when I'll be back. But I'm glad to say I chose a good one, even if entirely by coincidence!

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, April 29, 2016: If I suffer FOMO over anything, it's Largo shows, and the sparse reports indicated I missed lovely moments this year, notably after the death of David Bowie. Alas, I can't make them all, so I treasure the ones I can attend, no matter what the evening holds.

Like I said, I don't know what happens at Largo from month to month anymore, so maybe this is a common occurrence. But the opening of the show hearkened to the past and could've been a whole night's entertainment in itself, as Griffee introduced Tom Brosseau. As he explained, growing up in North Dakota, they filled their days with music, and if you've ever heard him, you can only say it was time well spent. Tom's voice is so pure -- I kind of imagine he could be transported to any era in history, and his vocals could take on nearly any native tune presented to him. What a kickoff!

Next, Flanny and Jon emerged, and the former took time out to draw our attention to the chair onstage. It was a simple metal chair, backed in light blue leather (pleather?) and adorned with the NBC logo. He asked us if we understood its significance and even struck an iconic pose to jog our memories, but no one in the relatively light crowd seemed to have an answer. Flanny filled us in: They were from the Elvis comeback special, which aired on NBC in 1968. Apparently Jon's friend worked in the studio where they had been housed and was ready to throw them out. Instead Jon (and Flanny?) claimed them. With that, Jon planted his "pink cheeks" (Flanny's phrase) and officially took the stage.



Speaking of the stage, it was as minimal as I'd ever seen it: only three acoustic guitars and two microphones, in addition to the mic placed next to the piano. That was it. Later, we heard that Jon had tried to set up his usual gear, but for whatever reason, it didn't work out.

Before he played a note (OK, maybe he tried to tune a key or two), Jon told a story about the legendary Glyn Johns (father of Ethan and producer of ton of records you love) Dumpster diving at a studio and retrieving master tapes of a few albums he had worked on. The moral of the story: If you are in the vicinity of a renowned studio, check the trash cans.

The music began on the piano, as Jon teased out his usual exercise tracks. I think I heard the Pink Panther theme, but I know for sure he landed on "Punch-Drunk Melody." He followed up with a handful of TV theme songs, smiling all along.

You could probably pin the official start of the show as "Ruin My Day," followed by "Someone to Watch Over Me," which began almost in the abstract but eventually made its way to an uptempo bridge. I don't know how often Jon plays the song these days, but it's a beauty, especially when he's in one of his better moods.

Jon hit the guitars for "It Looks Like You" -- can you believe it's been a jillion years since he wrote this song with Evan Dando? Anyway, he threw in a few ad-lib lines ("It walks like you/It talks like you") toward the end, and I couldn't stop smiling myself.

As Jon himself noted, the spirit of Elvis reached out to him from the chair, and he hit a couple of the man's songs, complete with the era-appropriate level of reverb. Jon stayed on the guitar for "Love of My Life So Far." I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I kinda prefer the acoustic treatment for some of Jon's songs; they tend to be more concise when he doesn't have a pile of pedals to mess with.

It was back to the piano for "Happy With You" and that newish song about getting married and having children. I still don't like the latter, but at least it was better paced this time. Jon went into another piano medley before settling into a couple more of his originals. Some of these selections had come from audience requests, and for his last song of this portion, he halfway entertained us and himself with a Fats Waller song that I couldn't name for the life of me.

Jon returned to the guitars and tuned for a bit before he started playing a beautiful song, with gorgeous touches. It was breezy and folksy, and I was already in love with it. In fact, it sounded reminiscent of Wilco, though I couldn't put my finger on it until long after the show.

It was not Wilco at all -- in fact, it was the highlight of the evening: a completely reworked version of Prince's "1999," in a totally different cadence, tone, probably notes. Back in the day, Jon urged us to listen to the artist's original works and not his covers when a beloved musician passed. I think he's revised that policy over the years, probably to the joy of most of us in the audience. In fact, I felt a flood of emotion as soon as I recognized the song, and it was great to hear, honoring the man while not slavishly aping him. (By the way, the song it brought to mind: Wilco's "What Light.")

Despite the nod to Prince's untimely passing, Jon was in a great mood all night. Thus, he hopped over to the piano again for "Play the Game" and responded to someone's request for an old, old song -- like, from a century ago. Voila, we heard a few classics before Jon got to Randy Newman's nod to the past.

Jon once more asked for requests, but didn't do much with our suggestions. Then a British voice rang out. I didn't recognize him at first, but others did, including Jon himself. It was Robyn Hitchcock, who had been taking in the show from the seats. Of course Jon brought him up for a bunch of tunes, including Robyn's request for "Purple Haze."

If you've ever seen the two of them together, you know their banter darts back and forth. Robyn urged Jon to play it any way he liked, which turned out to be in the style of Thelonius Monk. I honestly can't read my notes for the song, so use your imagination. However, I can dutifully report Robyn played a few more of his songs, by special request from Jon. Bravo on the suggestion of "Queen Elvis" -- which I too have asked of other Largo guests. Great minds!

Of course, Jon accompanied Robyn on piano and backing vocals as needed. For the final song, Jon asked Robyn to do a new track, anything he's been working on. Robyn replied that Jon's superpower is his ability to know the chords before anyone else, and duh, he was right. As Robyn played this heretofore unknown song, Jon felt out the notes and eventually dug into the meat of the melody. Because he can.

For the final song, we went with Jon's safety track, guaranteed to bring the room together: "God Only Knows." It works every time.

The noncapacity crowd managed to convince Jon to come back for an encore, though I have to admit it was one of the weaker calls I've heard at Largo. Jon and Robyn treated us to "More Than This," but the true treasure was a story related to the song: something about Jon and Flanny traveling in France, then meeting Robyn in at a seaside spot in Northern Italy, where Robyn played the entirety of Avalon to what Jon characterized as "the gulls." To top it off, they had a great lunch together.

For the final track in the big room, Jon said, "Fuck it," and rolled out "Happiness" in one of the more upbeat versions I've heard. It's hard to hear this song and not think of the loss associated with it, and I imagine recent events (along with the night's requests) led him to the selection. Even remembering it now, I have the tune in my head again, and it probably won't leave for several days.

Wait, there's more! A couple of dozen people stuck around in the Little Room, for a live taping of the Live From High Fidelity podcast. You can listen for yourself (and maybe hear me!) when the podcast is released, but I'll fill in a couple of details we saw with our own eyes. Per show protocol, Jon chose his vinyl track, but while the song played, he mimed along and pointed out the very elements he had singled out in his explanation of the tune. And in the course of Tom DeSilva's and Eric Gorfain's selections, Jon visibly drank them in. If you listen to the podcast, you may even get your own mini education on studio life and session players. It was true music nerd world, and I loved it.

One more aside: You may or may not have heard that Jon and Eric are responsible for strings on the Beyonce's new record. I don't plan to purchase it, so maybe someone else can supply the liner notes. I actually meant to ask about it, but I didn't have to. As Jon steered Eric to singling out a track, emphasizing the use and application of strings in a pop context, none other than Flanny himself could be heard yelling "Beyonce!" from the back of the room. I take that as confirmation.

Sometime not long before 2 am, we left the bar, not unlike the old days on Fairfax.

Setlist
Tom Brosseau opener
-- My Texas Girl
-- A Wildcat Woman and a Tomcat Man
-- Rope Stretchin' Blues Part 1
-- I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire
-- Light of the World

-- piano (Pink Panther theme/Punch-Drunk Love)
-- Mr. Rogers Neighborhood/Adams Family theme/Peanuts theme/Christmastime Is Here
-- Ruin My Day
-- Someone to Watch Over Me
-- Looks Like You
-- I Want You, I Love You, I Need You
-- My Baby Left Me
-- Happy With You
-- newish song
-- piano (Incense and Peppermint/Peter Gunn/Rhapsody in Blue)
-- Strangest Times
-- Knock Yourself Out
-- Fats Waller song
-- 1999
-- Play the Game
-- A Bicycle Built for Two/Scott Joplin song
-- Dayton, Ohio 1903
-- Purple Haze *
-- Raymond Chandler Evening *
-- Queen Elvis *
-- My Eyes Have Seen the Trolley Bus *
-- God Only Knows

encore
-- More Than This *
-- Happiness

Little Room
-- Somewhere Over the Rainbow
-- Ain't Misbehavin'

* = with Robyn Hitchcock

See also:
» blue christmas
» i'm happy, hope you're happy too
» lost inside adorable illusion
» simple twist of fate

blue christmas

Should you have the luxury of planning a getaway before the holidays, may I suggest a few days in Los Angeles? I'm now even more addicted to this tradition and was glad to squeeze into the Watkins Family Hour at Largo at the Coronet during my most recent visit.

The Watkins Family Hour, Largo at the Coronet, December 17, 2014: I'll admit right now that the title of this post comes from one of two songs I (1) recognized or (2) took note of the request. Even then, it's kind of a lie because Christmas was anything but blue in Los Angeles, either meteorologically or metaphorically.

When I'm in L.A., the Watkins Family Hour tends to be the hors d'oeuvre before the main entree -- or in this week, the palate cleanser between courses. But they are no ordinary snack. In many ways, they seem to have taken on the mantle of collaboration at Largo, with a varied and unexpected mix of talented guests and friends every month. I think they've settled into a workable blueprint for their shows, but as my visits to Largo have been limited, you'll have to forgive me if I repeat common knowledge. Also, I didn't take notes, so don't expect exhaustive coverage of every detail.

Sara and Sean opened the show on their own, then brought out the crack staff of backing artists that Largo regulars have come to know and love: Benmont Tench, Sebastian Steinberg, Don Heffington, and Greg Leisz. They kept a low-key presence onstage, but I guarantee that they're all over your record collection, in one combination or another, as you'll discover if you dig into the liner notes.

The first musical guests of the night were Beth Orton and Sam Amidon, along with Ella, a young friend from England (and Beth's helper while Sam was on tour). Confession: I had spied Beth slipping in earlier that evening, so her appearance wasn't a surprise, though it was a delight. Beth is a longtime Largo regular dating back from the Fairfax days, but I'd never seen her in a guest or a headlining capacity over the years -- this correction was long overdue. As for Sam Amidon, I had missed him (with her) at Solid Sound a few years ago, so chalk up another nice bonus for the evening. They attempted an old Christmas song Sam had learned growing up in Vermont; Beth messed up several times amid giggles before they finally pulled it off. The guests also came together for an a cappella title, their voices melding effortlessly.

The next artist to show up was less of a guest and more like family, as the Watkinses pointed out: Fiona Apple. She was both funny and weird (funnier and weirder?) tonight, rolling out an alternative narrative on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and possible reactions to his ostracization, all wrapped up in a blue streak. When "Rudolph" was called out for his potty mouth, Fiona informed us Rudolph had recently turned 37 and developed self-awareness. Anyway, it all led to "Walkin' After Midnight," a Fiona staple.

By this point, John C. Reilly had made a couple of appearances, first at the top of the show and again during Fiona's set to move the conversation along. Apparently, he's become the emcee of these engagements, offering banter to tie the show together. Befitting his role, he combined music and musings into his spotlight segment. At first, he and Tom Brosseau took one track together, armed with acoustic guitars and sweet harmonies. John also did a song on his own, the Elvis track referenced in the title of this post. I deserve a bonk on the head for this no-brainer, but dammit, that man can sing. (Sorry, I never saw "Chicago"!)

John C. Reilly closed out his set with his version of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas," rewritten for Los Angeles. He nailed every detail of the city and the season, tying it all together with a neat little bow that harkened back to his opening statement. Dammit, John C. Reilly, why do you have to be so talented?!

Jackson Browne rounded out the guest list -- the legend at last. He performed two songs, one by Warren Zevon, the other from Doc Watson, and he too got the John C. Reilly treatment. They didn't quite click immediately, but they eventually hit common ground, with Jackson complimenting John's poem from earlier in the night. However, the real treat in this segment was a story from Sean involving Thanksgiving leftovers and Jackson's swimming pool. Talk about a surreal image!

The show's main segment finished with a group singalong of a song I didn't recognize, except there was a lot of Bethlehem in the chorus (no, not that one). However, the evening was still in progress.

That comment I made earlier about the Watkins taking on the Largo mantle? Another strong argument for that claim: They continued the show in the Little Room. Sara and Sean kicked off the proceedings again, soon joined by Benmont, who did a handful of songs at his hosts' insistence. A few guests remained from the main set and made their way to the stage, among them John C. Reilly and Tom Brosseau. I loved being reminded of Tom Brosseau's inherently high lonesome voice and was pleased to see their rapport. I hate missing out such chapters in Largo's evolution, but I love catching up on my visits back.

I can report two specific memories from this part of the show: Sara covering "Christmas in Prison," which I knew only because I heard the request ring out from the audience; and a short discussion of John's tie, his own creation that looked somewhere between a bow tie and a jabot.

The Little Room was packed with fans, staffers, and other Largo guests -- an unusual scene, believe it or not. The reason for their anticipation soon became clear as Jackson Browne came to the stage. He's not a stranger at Largo (again, going back to the Fairfax days), but guessing by the banter, this may have been his Little Room debut. If so, I'm glad I was there.

Hats off to the Watkinses for another full-hearted night of entertainment. The best part? The week was only half over.

See also:
» all this time
» any old time
» been hoping that you'd drop in

i've been traveling near and far

I hope no one was holding their breath after the last Rawlings Machine show at Largo; that would've been a long, asphyxiating three-plus months between gigs. But the duo has returned to Los Angeles, with one crucial variation: They were operating under the Gillian Welch moniker, with all the fanfare that such an occasion entails.

Gillian Welch, Largo at the Coronet, July 16, 2009: For those playing along at home, this marks my very first Gillian Welch show; my purist predilections forbid me from counting all those other performances I've seen at Largo as Gillian gigs. If you find that distinction needlessly arbitrary, you probably won't want to know how I organize my music collection either.

Despite my rookie status, I knew not to expect the Rawlings Machine, and as much as I loved those shows, especially the gigs closer to home, I was ready for another perspective. On that count, Gillian and David did not disappoint.

If I had to single out one factor that differentiated this show from the previous Rawlings Machine outings, it would have to be the patina of professionalism on the proceedings. Not that they're going to take their act to Branson any time soon, but they appeared to at least consult a setlist and Gillian even launched several great quips. The highlight had to be her Oscar-worthy performance as the bikini-clad woman sitting atop her boyfriend's shoulders at Bonnaroo and flashing the musicians--she didn't act out that part--all to the accompaniment of "Look at Miss Ohio."

It didn't hurt that they opened with "I Want to Sing That Rock and Roll"--for my money, the absolute best example from their catalog of their harmonizing--or that they hit so many songs from Time (The Revelator), including the title track, my current go-to tune. Though the previous week's show included several new songs, the only one they reprised was "It's Too Easy," featuring Gillian on vocals, and her rich timbre took the song in a whole other direction separate from David's reading.

This being Largo, all sorts of friends joined them, though only after a generous run by the duo--so that they could "rehearse," Gillian claimed. After a short break, Gillian and David came back for their second set and brought out Benmont Tench and Morgan Nagler for, of course, "Sweet Tooth."

John Paul Jones was next, lending mandolin and harmonies to "Wayside/Back in Time." They kept him onstage for the rest of the show, as Sara and Sean Watkins, then Jon Brion emerged for the remainder of the set. The supergroup kicked off with what they called their "theme song," which turned out to be a delightful version of "Hot Corn Cold Corn," though with slightly less spit and twang than Gillian and David unleash on their own. We thought "Caleb Meyer" would be the final song, until the musicians tramped back out, playing their instruments, Von Trapp-style.

Not long after, we convened in the Little Room for what Click and Clack would call the third half of the evening and what could be considered an unofficial Watkins Family Hour. Many of the principals from the earlier show dropped in, but they welcomed some new faces, such as Tom "Bruiser" Brosseau on an Everly Brothers tune and Fiona Apple on a few songs.

Dave Rawlings' guitar bowed before he did, as he handed it off midsong to Jon, and there was the matter of Gillian and Fiona making their introductions to one another onstage. Dave and Gillian eventually stepped up for the final number, "The Pines," and took over the second verse. Of course, Gillian and Dave enjoy more than a decade of singing and playing together, but there was no doubt in my mind who turned in the best rendition.

See also:
» when you gonna live your life right
» hotter than a pepper spout