Every now and then, a bona fide hit song blankets the airwaves, and you'd have to pull a double Van Gogh to miss it. This summer, there's no debate--it's "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley, and it was no surprise when their two dates at the Fillmore sold out immediately.
Gnarls Barkley, The Fillmore, July 18, 2006: Let's face it, Gnarls Barkley's appeal lies almost as much with their ever changing wardrobe selections (my friends are still talking about the Star Wars outfits on the MTV Awards) as with their melding of musical styles. In that respect, we weren't disappointed when Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse hit the stage in chef's whites, accompanied by a backing band dressed as short-order cooks and '50s-style waitresses. Later, they introduced themselves as the Sam Cookes, and Cee-Lo even offered a box of donuts to the fans in the front row--though not without an ulterior motive.
You see, this was unlike many Fillmore gigs I've attended, and not necessarily in a good way. Granted, I have limited experience with overnight sensations these days. Also, it was the first night of the tour, which usually means the crew hasn't yet worked out the technical issues.
Though I suspect the majority of the Gnarls Barkley audience doesn't frequent club shows very often, they probably realized something was up when two hours after doors opened, we'd seen no action onstage. Instead, we listened to a live DJ for the duration, though there had been no announcement of such. A little before 10pm, the roadies started testing out equipment, and this went on for longer than expected. In fact, they lingered worryingly at one of the big keyboards for a while. Finally, half an hour later than scheduled and following a round of boos from the crowd, the band arrived, pastries and all.
It helped that they opened with Duran Duran's "Hungry Like the Wolf," which always guarantees entree to my heart, and we heard a few other covers through the night to pad their 37 minutes of recorded output. Independent of the hype, the show highlighted their eclectic influences, and Cee-Lo's rich voice and outsize personality was a great contrast with Danger Mouse's rockin' soundscapes and quiet support.
In the end, though, I'm not sure what to think of the gig. No, you don't hear Gnarls's brand of fearless, fluid fusion much on the radio these days, and nothing can take away from the shock and delight of those first airings of "Crazy." I guess I expect more from a Fillmore debut than an hour of music and fun outfits. If you have a ticket to any of the upcoming dates, by all means, check 'em out--but maybe keep in mind that you may be seeing more of a performance than a show.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
"My name is Jon, I'm from Connecticut"
"It's just like riding a bike...only more pedals."--Jon Brion
Jon Brion, Largo, July 13, 2006: Jon traded in the sartorial savvy he exhibited at the Intonation Festival for a look that was, in parts, much more familiar (oversize madras shirt, postal worker-stripe pants, orange socks) but with an element (stubble) not usually seen on the Largo stage. The shoes, to our relief, remained the same. Oh, there was another public debut too, but that'll come out in due time.
Jon made the introductions for Greg Proops, who opened with a typically far-ranging and hilarious 30-minute set that encompassed, among other topics, the World Cup, Syd Barrett, and Angelenos vs. the rest of the country. He also pimped his upcoming Largo show on Tuesday and mentioned that his special guests would be Wayne Brady and Jon Brion. Though I have all the time in the world these days, I'm still sane enough to realize that I can't attend every Largo show. I just hope Annie and Dance make it and report back.
Flanagan handled the intro for Jon, and he kept it to a minimum. I agree with him--life is short, and I can think of few better options than to fill it with as many (Jon Brion) shows as possible.
If you've had the chance to see a Jon Brion show in the last few years, you should thank your lucky stars for Sami, Jon's ever attentive assistant. So it was with great pleasure that we jumped on Jon's request for us to sing "Happy Birthday," and it was a brilliant excuse to kick off the show proper.
From there, Jon went into a "live soundcheck," and as he pounced on the drums, I thought I heard a distinctive beat. I whispered my suspicions to Heidi, and for once, my instincts were correct, as it turned out to be a song build of the Beatles' "The End"--to begin the show.
Jon fooled around with the guitar for a bit but landed on the piano for as deliciously delicate a version of Steely Dan's "Any Major Dude" (with a little help from a lyric book he carried onstage) that you could hope to hear. I know that the piano most sorely tests Jon's arm these days, but man, it was good to have him back at the keys. As it turned out, he stayed there for a stretch, first with "Take the A Train," complete with stomping rhythm accompaniment courtesy of those snazzy shoes, then "Here We Go" (insert gale-force sigh here).
We recognized "Girl I Knew" just about right away, but Jon kicked around every other part of it, with a slightly different melody in the middle and heavy guitar licks toward the outro. At the end, he sang a bit of Cheap Trick over the cacophony.
"I Don't Know How to Love Him" wasn't sung and served more as a (failed) tuning exercise, but it was a lovely excursion all the same. Jon launched into an off-kilter "Knock Yourself Out" anyway, finishing with a slowed-down outro.
Jon puttered about for a bit and pulled out a gorgeous old guitar that had the name "Pat" tastefully emblazoned in sequins across the front. As bedazzled as we were by those three letters, it was no match for the brilliance to follow onstage, in the form of Benmont Tench. In my opinion, Benmont was a major factor in Jon's acclaimed Intonation appearance, but Largo is a much better venue for his subtle, sparkling touch, and he took center stage a number of times, encouraged in no small part by Jon himself.
I love it when the two of them play whatever song they happen to be feeling, but Benmont's most notable contributions come when he turns an old chestnut on its ear. That's what we got with both "Why Do You Do This to Yourself" and "Waterloo Sunset." You can expect to hear Jon do either song on any given night, but when Benmont joins in, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. Our table was shrouded in awed silence for both songs, as we strained to hear every little note Benmont imparted, and in neither case were we disappointed.
Best of all, we got a robust singalong for "Time of the Season." Yay!
Benmont left the stage after a warm embrace, then Jon sat down by himself at the piano for "Ruin My Day," followed by the closer, a song build that he said would take a while to get to. I was completely in the dark, but both Evonne and her friend Eric recognized it in record time: "Shine On, You Crazy Diamond," a little poke at one of Greg's jokes from earlier in the night.
On a typical Friday, we would've taken a breather before the second set, but tonight's circumstances dictated otherwise. Instead, we got an encore that would still put most other performers to shame. Jon seemed happy to begin with a couple of downers (which he also recently played on Sound Opinions), but the last tune was all for Sami, who parked himself at the floor right by our table to take in his birthday present.
I'm proud to say that I was there for what may have been the beginnings of Jon's Roxy Music resurgence, so I had no problems recognizing "Same Old Scene" this time. Tonight, the song sounded like less of a joke--which is not to say it wasn't without humor. In the end, Jon delivered on the promised Eurodisco elements, but I could hear touches that wouldn't have been out of place at a modern dance club--completely in the spirit of Bryan Ferry's history of radically reworking tunes by Cole Porter, Billie Holiday, and Bob Dylan.
Jon dragged the song every which way but continually returned to the driving disco rhythm. In fact, it became "White Lines" for a little while, then Scott in the soundbooth brought out Greg's rendition of "Through the Fire" back to the fore. From all indications, the song could've gone on for a while longer, and Jon seemed to be breaking out in another direction entirely--when he appeared to hit the wrong knob and turned off all the loops when he meant to switch off only one. With a sheepish grin, he backed away from the keyboards and called it a night.
There's still no official word on when the Friday gigs will resume, but at a few points during the show, Jon could be seen stretching, rubbing, and massaging his hand. Heidi noted that he altered his piano playing to accomodate his injury--for example, for "Here We Go," he played the notes closer together, with fewer arpeggios (thanks Heidi!)--so the question continues to loom. I'm the last person who should be saying this, but don't wait around for that next fix. Enjoy life--see live music more often!
The setlist:
Happy Birthday
The End [song build]
Sweet Georgia Brown [guitar]
Any Major Dude [piano]
How Much Is That Doggie in the Window/Take the A Train/another song [piano]
Here We Go [piano]
Girl I Knew/Everything Works if You Let It [song build]
I Don't Know How to Love Him [acoustic guitar]
Knock Yourself Out [acoustic guitar + harmonica]
Why Do You Do This to Yourself *
You Didn't Have to Be So Nice *
boogie-woogie vamping *
Time of the Season *
This Will Be Our Year *
Roundabout *
Waterloo Sunset *
Ruin My Day [piano + harmonica]
Shine On You Crazy Diamond [song build]
encore
The Way It Went [piano]
Eternal Sunshine theme [piano]
Same Old Scene/White Lines/Through the Fire [song build]
* = with Benmont Tench
As if we weren't lucky enough to catch this show, a kindly soul even taped the gig and made it available to share. Download the MP3s, and let me know what you think.
» Jon Brion, Largo, 7-13-06
See also:
» the power of suggestion, the element of chance
» public service announcement
» there was no way of knowing
» top 5 Largo memories
Jon Brion, Largo, July 13, 2006: Jon traded in the sartorial savvy he exhibited at the Intonation Festival for a look that was, in parts, much more familiar (oversize madras shirt, postal worker-stripe pants, orange socks) but with an element (stubble) not usually seen on the Largo stage. The shoes, to our relief, remained the same. Oh, there was another public debut too, but that'll come out in due time.
Jon made the introductions for Greg Proops, who opened with a typically far-ranging and hilarious 30-minute set that encompassed, among other topics, the World Cup, Syd Barrett, and Angelenos vs. the rest of the country. He also pimped his upcoming Largo show on Tuesday and mentioned that his special guests would be Wayne Brady and Jon Brion. Though I have all the time in the world these days, I'm still sane enough to realize that I can't attend every Largo show. I just hope Annie and Dance make it and report back.
Flanagan handled the intro for Jon, and he kept it to a minimum. I agree with him--life is short, and I can think of few better options than to fill it with as many (Jon Brion) shows as possible.
If you've had the chance to see a Jon Brion show in the last few years, you should thank your lucky stars for Sami, Jon's ever attentive assistant. So it was with great pleasure that we jumped on Jon's request for us to sing "Happy Birthday," and it was a brilliant excuse to kick off the show proper.
From there, Jon went into a "live soundcheck," and as he pounced on the drums, I thought I heard a distinctive beat. I whispered my suspicions to Heidi, and for once, my instincts were correct, as it turned out to be a song build of the Beatles' "The End"--to begin the show.
Jon fooled around with the guitar for a bit but landed on the piano for as deliciously delicate a version of Steely Dan's "Any Major Dude" (with a little help from a lyric book he carried onstage) that you could hope to hear. I know that the piano most sorely tests Jon's arm these days, but man, it was good to have him back at the keys. As it turned out, he stayed there for a stretch, first with "Take the A Train," complete with stomping rhythm accompaniment courtesy of those snazzy shoes, then "Here We Go" (insert gale-force sigh here).
We recognized "Girl I Knew" just about right away, but Jon kicked around every other part of it, with a slightly different melody in the middle and heavy guitar licks toward the outro. At the end, he sang a bit of Cheap Trick over the cacophony.
"I Don't Know How to Love Him" wasn't sung and served more as a (failed) tuning exercise, but it was a lovely excursion all the same. Jon launched into an off-kilter "Knock Yourself Out" anyway, finishing with a slowed-down outro.
Jon puttered about for a bit and pulled out a gorgeous old guitar that had the name "Pat" tastefully emblazoned in sequins across the front. As bedazzled as we were by those three letters, it was no match for the brilliance to follow onstage, in the form of Benmont Tench. In my opinion, Benmont was a major factor in Jon's acclaimed Intonation appearance, but Largo is a much better venue for his subtle, sparkling touch, and he took center stage a number of times, encouraged in no small part by Jon himself.
I love it when the two of them play whatever song they happen to be feeling, but Benmont's most notable contributions come when he turns an old chestnut on its ear. That's what we got with both "Why Do You Do This to Yourself" and "Waterloo Sunset." You can expect to hear Jon do either song on any given night, but when Benmont joins in, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. Our table was shrouded in awed silence for both songs, as we strained to hear every little note Benmont imparted, and in neither case were we disappointed.
Best of all, we got a robust singalong for "Time of the Season." Yay!
Benmont left the stage after a warm embrace, then Jon sat down by himself at the piano for "Ruin My Day," followed by the closer, a song build that he said would take a while to get to. I was completely in the dark, but both Evonne and her friend Eric recognized it in record time: "Shine On, You Crazy Diamond," a little poke at one of Greg's jokes from earlier in the night.
On a typical Friday, we would've taken a breather before the second set, but tonight's circumstances dictated otherwise. Instead, we got an encore that would still put most other performers to shame. Jon seemed happy to begin with a couple of downers (which he also recently played on Sound Opinions), but the last tune was all for Sami, who parked himself at the floor right by our table to take in his birthday present.
I'm proud to say that I was there for what may have been the beginnings of Jon's Roxy Music resurgence, so I had no problems recognizing "Same Old Scene" this time. Tonight, the song sounded like less of a joke--which is not to say it wasn't without humor. In the end, Jon delivered on the promised Eurodisco elements, but I could hear touches that wouldn't have been out of place at a modern dance club--completely in the spirit of Bryan Ferry's history of radically reworking tunes by Cole Porter, Billie Holiday, and Bob Dylan.
Jon dragged the song every which way but continually returned to the driving disco rhythm. In fact, it became "White Lines" for a little while, then Scott in the soundbooth brought out Greg's rendition of "Through the Fire" back to the fore. From all indications, the song could've gone on for a while longer, and Jon seemed to be breaking out in another direction entirely--when he appeared to hit the wrong knob and turned off all the loops when he meant to switch off only one. With a sheepish grin, he backed away from the keyboards and called it a night.
There's still no official word on when the Friday gigs will resume, but at a few points during the show, Jon could be seen stretching, rubbing, and massaging his hand. Heidi noted that he altered his piano playing to accomodate his injury--for example, for "Here We Go," he played the notes closer together, with fewer arpeggios (thanks Heidi!)--so the question continues to loom. I'm the last person who should be saying this, but don't wait around for that next fix. Enjoy life--see live music more often!
The setlist:
Happy Birthday
The End [song build]
Sweet Georgia Brown [guitar]
Any Major Dude [piano]
How Much Is That Doggie in the Window/Take the A Train/another song [piano]
Here We Go [piano]
Girl I Knew/Everything Works if You Let It [song build]
I Don't Know How to Love Him [acoustic guitar]
Knock Yourself Out [acoustic guitar + harmonica]
Why Do You Do This to Yourself *
You Didn't Have to Be So Nice *
boogie-woogie vamping *
Time of the Season *
This Will Be Our Year *
Roundabout *
Waterloo Sunset *
Ruin My Day [piano + harmonica]
Shine On You Crazy Diamond [song build]
encore
The Way It Went [piano]
Eternal Sunshine theme [piano]
Same Old Scene/White Lines/Through the Fire [song build]
* = with Benmont Tench
As if we weren't lucky enough to catch this show, a kindly soul even taped the gig and made it available to share. Download the MP3s, and let me know what you think.
» Jon Brion, Largo, 7-13-06
See also:
» the power of suggestion, the element of chance
» public service announcement
» there was no way of knowing
» top 5 Largo memories
Sunday, July 09, 2006
nothing left to bring me back today
Big thanks to Maudie (the award-winning photog), Trish, Denise, and the compound for helping me commemorate my emancipation. It's a good thing cupcakes are accepted as legal tender in their fiefdom.
The Plimsouls, Cafe du Nord, July 7, 2006: I truly love the '80s, but I sometimes question my own recollections of the decade. Sequestered in a little corner of the 'burbs--way before the Internet existed--I can't swear if my take on popular or, conversely, obscure pop culture jibes with others'.
But I'm pretty sure that in the early '80s, we were a ways off from the full commoditization of "alternative" music. For some of us, the jangly guitar opened the door to a whole different world of music, away from the oversize production values and the synthesizers more prevalent in the songs of the time. REM, of course, was one of the most noted purveyors of this sound, but there were other awesome bands in that vein, including the Plimsouls.
It was many years later that I learned the Plimsouls were part of a groundswell of LA bands, but even now (for better or for worse), they'll forever be associated with that pivotal scene in Valley Girl. For all our reminiscing, however, the crowd turned out to be a lot more male dominated than we expected. Then again, Peter Case has established a decent solo career over the years and has earned his following the old-fashioned way, regardless of demographics.
I can't tell you much about the songs, except that, of course, they did The Hit, which they wisely rolled into a medley to sustain that energy. They even did a couple of new songs off their upcoming album. I was more familiar with the covers, three of which I recognized. A couple were not surprising: the Creation's "Making Time," and "Dizzy Miss Lizzie," which revealed their proto power-pop influences. But when they hit up Television's "Glory," I was taken by surprise. Television's meandering rhythms and, especially, Tom Verlaine's crooked vocals would seem diametrically opposed to the Plimsouls' straightforward rock, but it was a nice touch.
The openers were called Magic Christian, a four-piece out of San Francisco, comprising Cyril Jordan (the original guitarist from the Flaming Groovies) and other San Francisco-area veterans, though Prairie Prince wasn't present tonight. They looked like they had taken a page out of the Rodney Bingenheimer school of aging (disgracefully) and wouldn't have been out of place playing the Whiskey A-Go-Go 30 years ago. Nonetheless, they churned out perfect little, errrr, nuggets of pop music.
The Plimsouls, Cafe du Nord, July 7, 2006: I truly love the '80s, but I sometimes question my own recollections of the decade. Sequestered in a little corner of the 'burbs--way before the Internet existed--I can't swear if my take on popular or, conversely, obscure pop culture jibes with others'.
But I'm pretty sure that in the early '80s, we were a ways off from the full commoditization of "alternative" music. For some of us, the jangly guitar opened the door to a whole different world of music, away from the oversize production values and the synthesizers more prevalent in the songs of the time. REM, of course, was one of the most noted purveyors of this sound, but there were other awesome bands in that vein, including the Plimsouls.
It was many years later that I learned the Plimsouls were part of a groundswell of LA bands, but even now (for better or for worse), they'll forever be associated with that pivotal scene in Valley Girl. For all our reminiscing, however, the crowd turned out to be a lot more male dominated than we expected. Then again, Peter Case has established a decent solo career over the years and has earned his following the old-fashioned way, regardless of demographics.
I can't tell you much about the songs, except that, of course, they did The Hit, which they wisely rolled into a medley to sustain that energy. They even did a couple of new songs off their upcoming album. I was more familiar with the covers, three of which I recognized. A couple were not surprising: the Creation's "Making Time," and "Dizzy Miss Lizzie," which revealed their proto power-pop influences. But when they hit up Television's "Glory," I was taken by surprise. Television's meandering rhythms and, especially, Tom Verlaine's crooked vocals would seem diametrically opposed to the Plimsouls' straightforward rock, but it was a nice touch.
The openers were called Magic Christian, a four-piece out of San Francisco, comprising Cyril Jordan (the original guitarist from the Flaming Groovies) and other San Francisco-area veterans, though Prairie Prince wasn't present tonight. They looked like they had taken a page out of the Rodney Bingenheimer school of aging (disgracefully) and wouldn't have been out of place playing the Whiskey A-Go-Go 30 years ago. Nonetheless, they churned out perfect little, errrr, nuggets of pop music.
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