hush hush keep it down now

Old habits die hard. I had conferred with a few friends before tickets went on sale for the Aimee Mann/Ted Leo aka #both show at Bottom of the Hill and even decided I didn't need to see both nights. However, I immediately reverted to my old ways when the Web page flipped and bought in for the two evenings. For me, more nights are always better. For everyone else, I'm pretty sure one night of #both will suffice -- and will certainly be worth your while.

#BOTH, Bottom of the Hill, March 26-27, 2013: Let's address the elephant in the room: #both is a terrible, terrible name, and the artists themselves fessed to it early on in the show. I'm guessing they got plenty of guff over it on the Internet, but clearly, they weren't backing down, as they chose to headline this show as the entitled entity. As far as I'm concerned, #both is as bad a moniker as LMFAO -- but that's the only comparison worth drawing between the two.

I didn't know too much about #both before this gig, though I'm not sure Aimee or Ted shared a whole lot of details in the run-up. My lizard brain basically saw Aimee Mann and Bottom of the Hill, and pure reflex took over. I've blogged enough about Aimee to make clear how much I love her music, but it's worth repeating. She marries melancholy to melody in a way few others can, in my estimation.

As for Ted Leo, I've caught him a couple of times before, most recently a guest appearance at a Paul F. Tompkins gig. I appreciate him more than I like him. Does that make sense? But he and Aimee have developed a great rapport, which has been clear from anyone who's followed them on Twitter and quickly became apparent in their shared stage presence.



Technically, I've seen Aimee in a smaller venue (at least a couple of times at the old Largo, to be exact), but Bottom of the Hill is a whole different environment, a bona fide grungy rock club. So it seemed appropriate that Aimee's opening statements addressed the strong pot smell that seemed to spontaneously materialize near the stage. This led to an awesome round of speculation between the two on their respective audience's drug of choice. Well, Ted's take sounded more definitive (speed), but Aimee had the last word on her base's preferred sedative: laudanum. You know she's right!

I hope this gives you an idea of the general air of the show because I can't begin to capture the chummy banter between the two. Fortunately, this camaraderie carried into the music. They opened with a new song from their forthcoming duo record. They reported they've been writing together, which makes sense; after all, they're both singer/songwriters at heart. I'm going to guess, though, that if you hear the new songs without any vocals, the tenor and tempo will give away the main instigator behind the tune. The set opener was pretty much a classic Aimee song, with an easy, effortless pace and a tempered narrative -- in other words, bliss.



Overall, they almost adhered to Aimee's promise of one-third of her tracks, one-third of Ted's tracks, one-third #both titles, and one Thin Lizzy cover. You can do the math, but I think the set slightly favored Aimee's catalog. On the first night, we got 1.5 extra tunes: a parody cover of "Freebird" in response to a cliched request (wasn't it part of her set a couple of years ago?) and "Fourth of July" for a much more informed and discerning fan. Bonus points to Ted for trying to sing along, though he couldn't quite remember all the words. To be fair, Aimee messed up on a couple of Ted's songs -- along with her own "Living a Lie" on opening night!

I can't really talk about Ted's music, though he pointed out that mentions of alcohol have a way of working themselves into his lyrics. I'll take on the mantled of Captain Obvious and state that Ted has a great voice and an deep respect for melodies. He also put in soothing harmonies and striking guitarwork on Aimee's selections. If you want more details on his contributions, I'm afraid you'll have to find a Ted Leo blog -- I'm not up to the task.

As for Aimee, there was obviously no way we'd get to her usual allotment, so we made do with a truncated selection of the tunes the two had rehearsed. I don't think Aimee even got to certain albums, but of course the recent Charmers earned a few slots, as did her best-known Magnolia titles, which elicited their usual warm wave of recognition. I was quite pleased to hear "Little Bombs" from the underappreciated The Forgotten Arm; I believe that's what you'd call a deep album cut.

One variation between the two shows came at the very end of the second night. Whereas Ted has been content to busy himself on guitar for "Deathly" at their first show, he decided to add harmonies on the second night. He did well, but I'm the last person to ask, as the studio recording has my favorite harmony of all time. I appreciated his effort anyway.

I'm putting off discussion of the biggest treat and revelation of the night, which arrived nearly at the end of the gig. Aimee prefaced the song with a long, self-deprecating introduction, calling parts of it dumb, as well as pointing out her young age when she wrote it. She also said the only reason she agreed to it was to hear Ted sing a verse. Ted countered and proclaimed it a "stone classic" -- no argument here. Ted has shown his support of this song before, most notably with his recent cameo in Aimee's video for "Labrador."



The song, of course, was "Voices Carry." I can't undersell this video's impact -- not to mention Aimee's striking image -- on my teenage self, but the truth is I love the song, and I can still sing most of it from memory. I may even still have it on vinyl. In all my times seeing Aimee in concert, I'm pretty sure I've heard it only once before in that long-ago Acoustic Vaudeville tour with Michael Penn.

A funny thing happened, though. Earlier in the show, Ted had shared a story about Paul Stanley and the latter's endorsement of singing along at concerts. I guess it was fresh in our minds because the audience audibly chimed in on the chorus, even eliciting a compliment from Aimee. I hope she takes it as a sign that she should air it more often.

OK, one more attempt to capture their repartee. On the second night, Aimee felt compelled to share a bit of backstage graffiti with us -- namely, the Pussy Rules. This brought up Ted's own report of a disgusting illustration of a hermaphroditic bird at a club in Cleveland. The performers and the audience returned to these talking points again and again throughout the gig for all kinds of hilarity. I won't try to sum them up. Instead, check them out for yourself, courtesy of Aimee's Instagram:



I claim no firsthand knowledge of #both's future plans, other than their announcement of an EP coming out on Matador in August. But you don't have to be a fortune teller to predict they'll be taking this show on the road at some point. With any luck, voices will carry all across the globe in their wake.

See also:
» green typewriters
» today's the day
» i'm the stuff of happy endings

lots to do with magnets and the pull of the moon

Now that I go to fewer concerts than before, I feel like a teacher who gives every student a gold star. There's a good chance I'm going to swoon over every show I see in the foreseeable future, but certain bands still loom so large that the pre- and post-gig roller-coaster practically hurts. Count Frightened Rabbit in that category with their return to the Fillmore.

Frightened Rabbit, The Fillmore, March 11, 2013: Frightened Rabbit has been messing with my first impressions lately. The initial listen of the new record Pedestrian Verse had me thinking, "Whoa, that's big production!" (This is your brain on Largo.) And at the band's return to the Fillmore, the stage setup -- complete with crosses and an active fog machine -- had me wondering whether Madonna's "Like a Prayer" video would break out at some point. I eventually stood corrected on both counts, as I recalled Frightened Rabbit has never shied from a cavernous sound artfully married to kitchen-sink-drama-style lyrics. Also, the midshow dance break turned out to be a tribute to "Lucky Star." (Kidding!)



You could argue the Fillmore has hosted any number of religious experiences, but Frightened Rabbit may have put a fine point on it with the opener "Holy." The ecclesiastical feel returned later with "My Backwards Walk," which descended like an ancient hymn. In between, there were plenty more transcendent moments.

Predictably, I'll call out the somewhat abbreviated acoustic segment, featuring "Poke," which will never not be a jaw-dropping showstopper. The sold-out crowd remained respectably hushed throughout Scott's solo performance -- perhaps to a fault. I would've loved to hear the audience contributing to the cooing between verses, but I'm probably being too picky. Besides, it cast Scott's keening, piercing calls in even starker and more poignant contrast. The band plugged back in soon thereafter, albeit in waves, for the ever graceful "Good Arms vs. Bad Arms," aka the band's waltz. (This is your brain on Largo, part two.)

Not that the show was all sacred (sacrilegious?) and solemn -- barely one song in, a guy in the audience requested "Fast Blood." Scott shot it down immediately, though with tons of charm -- or maybe that's the accent. I nursed a hope that Scott was joking, but alas, he was telling the truth.

Isn't that always the case, though? Blink, and all of a sudden, your beloved band has four whole albums and an honest-to-god catalog that can't possibly be sandwiched into a single night's gig. Instead, you learn to treasure those old songs, whether in their faithful forms or reinvented anew. Seriously, how come I never recognized the pure pop of "Swim Until You Can't See Land" (even if we apparently couldn't sing it as well as Seattle) and "Nothing Like You" before? For shame! Meanwhile, the agitated angst of "The Modern Leper" and the country stomp of "Old Old Fashioned" hit the exact right spots.

It wouldn't be a rock show without confessions of love from the audience. Of course, Scott's admirer turned out to be a guy, which the singer took in stride. The band was smitten in its own way as well, as Scott once again raved over the Fillmore, where he's now clocked four appearances. Let's hope they add to that tally over the years.

The new songs sounded great too, particularly "State Hospital" and "Acts of Man," complete with spazz-out coda and strobe lights that helped justify the band's relatively theatrical stage set. Oh, and extra points to the girl behind me who called for "Oil Slick" at the exact right moment before the band broke into it.

The band closed with an especially upbeat encore, punctuated with the extra drums on "The Loneliness and the Scream." If I'm going to have anything approaching a hooligan-like experience, this is how I want it to happen: through the music of one of the best bands going.

I'm not one for regrets, but I'm disappointed in myself for missing so many Frightened Rabbit shows in the Bay Area -- even as recently as last fall. This band seems to move people in a way I haven't witnessed often, and it's a privilege to be in that mix every time. Sure, I've seen hysteria and adulation, as well as manufactured hype, and I admit I'm fully biased, having boarded the Frightened Rabbit train the first time I saw them in concert.

But Frightened Rabbit has a certain something -- whether it's talent, charm, skill, conviction, dedication, honesty, or some combination of those and other attributes I can't name -- that doesn't necessarily translate directly to record sales or venue capacities. Instead, you hear it in the singalongs and declarations ("They are so good") from the likes of a woman behind me. I figured she was a first-time concertgoer, but this repeat (even if not enough times for my tastes) fan wouldn't have said it any different.

Three band members represented as fellow Scots Twilight Sad opened for Frightened Rabbit. As much as I love the idea of the Twilight Sad, I haven't been able to get into their music. No matter, though -- they too were in great spirits to be at the Fillmore with their friends. Honestly, there are a lot worse ways to kick off a show.



Setlist

See also:
» we adopt a brand-new language
» let's get old fashioned
» before i change my mind

(almost the blues)

Remember when Nels Cline Singers shows were a regular happening on the West Coast? I've missed those gigs, even when most of the music went right over my head. Alas, times have changed. The Singers aren't as commonly found out here, and even when they settle in for the now rare Bay Area residency, I hit only one of the shows at Duende, over in Oakland. It was good to have them back.

Nels Cline Singers, Duende, January 24, 2013: I'm not the worst San Francisco snob, but attending a show in the East Bay takes careful consideration (and forget the North or South Bay), helped along by a healthy dose of devotion. The Nels Cline Singers made it easy on me, playing at a venue conveniently close to the 19th Street BART station and teasing the singleminded music nerd factor that seems to be the only way to get me to a show anymore. In the process, they reminded me of how much I enjoy these shows, which I'll have to keep in mind the next time I decide to stay put while a beloved band is in town.

I'll try to keep this short since this is the last report you should ever read about a jazz ensemble. Give me credit for trying?

The lineup carried over from the last Singers gig I saw (minus guest collaborator Yuka Honda) and, as it turned out, so did much of the setlist (see below). The first set felt -- dare I say it? -- upbeat and accessible. As the trio moved through the songs, they went from mellow to funky -- like Detroit house funky -- to good ol' rock. Believe me, the heads were bobbing along to the groove. My completely juvenile and ill-informed hunch says the tunes had a newer sense of sophistication and less of a punk edge, perhaps owing to Trevor Dunn's new place in the band on bass. Or I could be making all this up.

Ben Goldberg, a frequent guest of the Singers, joined in for the second set. Paul deemed it the archetype of West Coast jazz, and I can't argue with him. To these tin ears, it sounded like the very definition of contemporary jazz, and the artists complemented each other beautifully. Nels and Ben, in particular, brought out each other's contributions with their own notes. A lovely bonus in this set: a brand-new song, tentatively titled "(Almost the Blues)." Keep an eye out for it, perhaps on the next Singers record.

Set 1
Divining
Mug Like Mine
Hairy Mother
Wedding Band
Thurston County

Set 2 (w/ Ben Goldberg)
Smarty Pants (Scott's song)
Brief Encounter
(Almost the Blues)
Amen-ette
Lullaby for Ian

Thanks to Paul for filling in the blanks!

See also:
» king queen
» spider wisdom