start again

All hail the evergreen Teenage Fanclub, forever and always the greatest Scots in songdom. The band's return to the West Coast also offered the perfect opportunity to hit a rock 'n' roll destination I've been dreaming of: Pappy + Harriet's out in Pioneertown. I'm beyond glad I made the trip.

Teenage Fanclub, Pappy + Harriet's, March 18, 2017: I've said it a million times on this blog, but I'll say it again: I love LA! I was already excited about this trip, but it turned out to be a perfect weekend with all the flavors that comprise the ideal Southern California experience. For me, it covered comedy, food, nature, and friendship -- and a celeb sighting, to boot.

It was also a decidedly nontwitchy weekend. That is, we rolled out of Los Feliz at a reasonable time, drove out to the desert, stopped for beverages and a breather, and wandered around a perfectly temperate Joshua Tree all before pulling up to Pappy + Harriet's. I love Teenage Fanclub, but I knew very well this was not a venue I'd need to sweat over. In fact, we ended up eating dinner there, and our table was exactly the vantage point I wanted for the evening.

Let's back up, though. As a rock tourist, I have to talk about the venue. Pioneertown itself is about three hours east of Los Angeles, depending on traffic, so I guess it counts as a tertiary market. But if you read the New York Times story, you probably know Pioneertown is no longer a secret. Still, it's almost everything I imagined. Basically, you drive out on 29 Palms Highway, take a left on Pioneertown Road, drive a few miles down a two-lane road, and there you are. The obvious parallel from my travels is Marfa, though not as remote, but it also brought to mind the Cellar Door in Visalia, where I saw British Sea Power.

Inside, Pappy + Harriet's is basically a rustic bar. The stage inside is tiny and a few inches off the ground, though there's an outside stage for bigger acts. After last year's headlines, it's hard not imagining Paul McCartney on the stage. I sort of wondered how it compared to, say, the Beatles' Hamburg days. But I digress!

As I mentioned, I felt no need to get to the front, so I hung out to the side. The room was small enough that it didn't particularly matter. As a bonus, the staff ended up pushing our dinner table to the wall to create a walkway out to the back patio bar (for smokers, I guess). The surprise and delight is that they actually enforced the rule, thanks to a huge staffer that we decided to call Hagrid. He was incredibly vigilant for the first half of the set, shooing the interlopers back to their previous spots, until he decided to partake of the nicotine as well. By then, our dear Evonne had taken it upon herself to keep the sight line clear, and trust me, she's quite effective.

The only downside to our spot was the sound, as I couldn't understand much of what the band said. On the bright side, the songs needed no translation, and I was jumping and hollering for all my favorite tracks. We made the acquaintance of the couple seated next to us, and I ended up talking to the guy for a long time. He had loved the Fannies forever, but had never seen them live. I'm happy to report that he too agrees Gerry Love is the man, and I reminded him of our consensus with every Gerry tune. In fact, they opened the set with "Start Again," and my biggest whoop might've gone out for "Don't Look Back." However, there was plenty of love for such Raymond and Norman tracks as "Your Love Is the Place Where I Come From" and "Mellow Doubt," to name two.

Another benefit from watching the show from our spot: We had a nice view of about half the room -- or more accurately, the joy therein. No surprise, there were plenty of singalongs, and Evonne and I appreciated the guy on the other side of the stage playing air guitar and air drums to a number of songs. Britta Phillips and her band flitted in and out, enjoying the gig as well. In fact, Britta took a quick run around the perimeter of the crowd, videotaping the proceedings on her phone.

Funny enough, I left the gig with a greater appreciation for the venue than for the concert. Don't get me wrong -- the Fannies were exhilarating, but due to our spot and maybe the sound, the music wasn't the top draw for me that night. Instead, I was thrilled to finally see Pappy + Harriet's for myself, and I loved sharing the experience with Evonne, as well as our new friends. We listened to Grand Prix on the relatively speedy trip home, but the true impact had yet to set in. I guess in a way, it was merely an appetizer for the San Francisco show.

Still, one takeaway was clear: If any of your favorite bands ever play at Pappy + Harriet's, do everything in your power to get there. You won't regret it.

See also:
» let your helmet warm your skull
» fans of alcohol

purple rain

I have no idea why it took me so long to blog this, but here you go, in case you were wondering how Jon Brion's last show of the year at Largo went.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 23, 2016: I managed to hit only two Jon Brion shows this year, so obviously I've missed a lot of developments at the club, but there was no way I could've predicted that two other women in the front row would also be taking notes. Is this where I mention I've been doing this for more than 10 years?? Deep breath, serenity now, namaste. Anyway, welcome to the crew, ladies!

By now in California, we're almost used to the return of rain after so many years of drought, but I have to admit this night in LA was as rainy as I've ever seen. And thanks to the city's inadequate drainage system, whole intersections (I'm looking at you, Melrose and La Cienega) resembled shallow lakes. It was a sight to behold. Largo wasn't exempt, as small puddles gathered in the entryway. Thankfully, the inner sanctum was nice and dry.

In a nod to the Largo legacy, Bobb Bruno opened the show in his customary bunny suit. His set was lovely, morphing from dreamy and melodic to hip-hop beats and ending with Mariah Carey. It's always great to see him at Largo.

Once upon a time, everyone at Largo knew Bobb on sight, but when Flanny took the stage, he helpfully supplied an intro and mentioned Bobb's gig with Best Coast. Flanny also mentioned Largo's upcoming 20th anniversary, which conveniently gives me a chance to link to my first Jon Brion show. (Yes, I've been doing this for a while.) I recall that Flanny promised good things to come in 2017 (at Largo, anyway), but you can say that about the club at any time.

Finally, it was Jon's turn, and per usual, he went to the piano, where he eventually drew out "Punch-Drunk Melody" and "Someone Else's Problem Now," at which point I knew it was going to be a good night. I don't go to Largo as often as I used to, so it's an extra treat to hear the older songs. He ended the opening run at the piano with "Over Our Heads," adorned with Moog and vocoder.

He next picked up an acoustic guitar, kicking off with a decidedly satirical "Hail to the Chief," along with a quick mention of the "incoming totalitarianism." In fact, Jon would sprinkle several comments about the new president through the performance, alternating between gallows humor and encouraging us to stay strong. At this juncture, it led to the more traditional fare of "It Looks Like You" and "Why Do You Do This to Yourself."

Jon returned to the piano, and later in the night, he would explain his guitars were reacting badly to the weather. But at that moment, all we heard was "Happy With You," as Jon's feet kept time.

As I said above, I haven't been to many Largo shows recently, but on the whole, Jon now seems to favor a sparse setup, and tonight was hardly the overload we've seen in the past. However, the video mixers were back, apparently for the first time in a while, and Jon made sure to put them to use. He called up clips of Andres Segovia, Maria Callas, and Leopold Stokowski, and eventually, they chipped in for "Strings That Tie to You." I'm going to be honest -- I'm not entirely sure what they brought to the song. Then again, Jon admitted he was a little rusty on the video mixers, though he showed a defter hand as the night wore on.

Jon finally opened the floor to requests, and as you can imagine, the floodgates opened. He started with Bowie, but the Prince requests also gained steam, to the point where Jon took an unofficial poll to gauge interest. It sounded like a draw to me, but Jon proceeded regardless, starting with a video of a drummer counting off, then joined by another clip of guitar lessons and an orchestra. The payoff was "Moonage Daydream" and, after more video magic from Jon, "Purple Rain." I heard Jon cover this song a while ago, and I recall the absolute thrill of recognizing the tune. But it's a good thing I keep notes -- according to my post, it was a wordless Les Paul-style cover, not a rousing singalong as I wanted to believe.

Tonight, we belted it out, though not quite as smoothly as some of us probably hoped. As a group, we pretty much forgot everything but the first verse and the chorus. However, in Los Angeles, the audience is bound to include people who not only know all the words but can sing the harmonies too. One of the night's heroes happened to be sitting in the row right behind me, and because of his proximity to the stage, his words actually reached Jon to guide him. You're the real MVP, buddy!

The next tune was a request for "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime," featuring footage of Eric Clapton. This was another classic I was so happy to hear and was glad to be reminded of its brilliance in Jon's hands. Jon then hit on "Same Mistakes," before entertaining a request for "Ignition Remix." I thought I heard Jon mention Paul McCartney, but a Google search turns up R. Kelly, and my notes offer no further illumination. If you have more information, I'd love to hear it. The counting drummer made another appearance for "Misty Mountain Hop."

Jon moved over to the electric guitar for, at first, "Waterloo Sunset," which continues to wow. I don't know how many times I've heard Jon cover this song, but it still sounds so damn good. Jon followed up with "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head," a no-brainer for the evening. Jon sort of vocalized the Bacharachian horns, and the audience clapped along to keep the beat. Thus, the main part of the night drew to an end.

I'd like to mention that our semi-typical Largo gang (Evonne, Paul, and me) welcomed a couple of new faces for the show: my best friend Doreen and her six-year-old daughter Penelope. With this in mind, when I finally managed to get in a request at the start of the encore, I made sure it was a good one, a song that was not only treasured by Doreen, Evonne, and me, but that (duh) Jon could and probably would do. Mind you, I'd been throwing out requests all night, but this one happened to stick. Jon prefaced the song with the comment that he'd been doing it a lot lately, but I was glad he went in anyway. The song was, of course, "More Than This," featuring clips of a Latin band, Percy Grainger, and Jacques Brel. If I've mentioned listening to Roxy Music as a teenager, let me say now that Doreen was playing and listening to them with me.

Jon closed the night with his own "Please Stay Away From Me."

In case you were wondering, there were no guests tonight and barely a mention of the yuletide, not even a bar or two of "Jingle Bells," as Jon has snuck in before. Even for Jon Brion, this was the least Christmas-y show I may have ever attended at Largo. However, we got a great night, with Jon in good spirits, and we were up for several hours afterward, discussing the gig. No wonder it's my favorite way to ring in the holidays.

Setlist
-- Bobb Bruno opener
-- piano
-- Punch-Drunk Melody
-- Someone Else’s Problem Now
-- Over Our Heads
-- Hail to the Chief
-- Looks Like You
-- Why Do You Do This to Yourself
-- Happy With You
-- Strings That Tie to You
-- Fantastic Voyage
-- Moonage Daydream
-- Purple Rain
-- Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometimes
-- Same Mistakes
-- Misty Mountain Hop
-- Waterloo Sunset
-- Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head

encore
-- More Than This
-- Please Stay Away From Me

Ghosts of Christmas past:
» i'll be a rock 'n' rolling bitch for you
» let your heart be light
» i'm offering this simple phrase
» it's been said many times, many ways
» with soul power
» it's the end of the things you know
» you could say one recovers
» a really good time
» the things you do to keep yourself intact
» i've heard a rumor from ground control
» strangest times

name me a song that everybody knows

I'm lagging on this one, so let's get right into it.

Jeff Tweedy, Chateau du Polpettino, Dec. 2, 2016: Let the record show that it took this long to figure out a date that worked for the Tweedys and for our group. Then a last-minute development further changed plans. And yes, it took a few years to get this train rolling again, but as always, a huge salute to Jeff and Susan Tweedy for giving it another go. Fortunately, it worked out for almost everyone, and long story short, we had a wonderful evening.

Long story long, it began in the typical manner with food, drinks, and friends. Our new hosts put together a gorgeous setup, which made it even easier to sit back and enjoy the evening in creature comforts. Even Jeff couldn't resist settling down on an ottoman for a song.

As for the music, Jeff stuck to his own tracks, though many of us tried to sneak in a few covers among our requests. I don't blame him at all -- I mean, the man had only come back from a European tour a few weeks earlier -- but you know we're going to try, given the opportunity. Thanks to Andy for my perennial favorite "Lost Love," to Patti for the sobering "Country Disappeared," and to Susan for "You Are My Face," which I don't think I've ever heard solo acoustic before. How did it take so long for that to happen?



I loved hearing the newer songs acoustic-style, not to mention our friends' contributions. Jeff had more than a few stories and comments throughout the evening, including his thoughts on the incoming administration. Selfishly, I'll treasure his kind words about sharing these shows with us over the years. I know they've rank among my most treasured memories.

Per tradition, we ended on "Candyfloss," complete with the usual jumping around -- until someone realized we were still due Tamala's request for "Dreamer in My Dreams." We stayed on our feet for the epic, and I had a flashback to one of my most intimate public gigs I've been to: Liberty Hall in Marfa. Hey, I'm happy to have been a part of each of them.

Overall, the whole night was extremely well handled. In earlier incarnations, our shows sometimes felt like they might slip beyond our control, despite the hours, weeks, and months of planning that proceeded them. But even the afterparty cleanup felt manageable and orderly, even if we were eating delicious tamales over the sink at 2 am. Speaking of afterparty, there were plenty more tunes after the Tweedys left, thanks to our talented friends. I'll never hear "Hallelujah" the same way again.

You never want to take anything for granted, so I think of each of these shows as standalone events, and I never assume the same circumstances will happen again. If you're lucky, you might remember to take pictures, but you always treasure the friends and the songs and the refreshments. It's the winning formula every time.

The full history
» i wish that i knew what I know now
» people say i'm crazy doing what i'm doing
» the message
» all the ladies and gentlemen
» that year
» springtime comes
» turn our prayers to outrageous dares
» every day is dreamlike
» it's been a while