how can i compare

The two words that guaranteed my attendance at Joe Pernice's gig at Cafe du Nord? Early show. It's shameful, I realize, but I've been exhausted for the better part of the last month and a half transitioning to a new place--apartment downsizing sucks. I'm just happy I made it out for a night.

Joe Pernice, Cafe du Nord, August 30, 2009: According to my records, I last saw Joe Pernice in concert before I started this blog, and I know for certain that I was out of town the last time he visited. Once more, I blame my skewed priorities rather than my lack of interest.

Of course, this time Joe's tour had a hook: These dates would encompass a reading of his book It Feels So Good When I Stop, along with a concert. I'm not particularly married to the idea that rock music has to be a certain way, but I admit to being skeptical of such a pairing--and it appeared that Joe did too. Though he came across as justifiably proud and invested in his novel, he was probably at his most assured when he was allowed to simply play his music.

Then again, if any musician can embark on a literary career without sending a collective cringe through both the listening and reading public, it's Joe Pernice. Even if you didn't know about his MFA, his way with words and characters has always come through in his lyrics. In an attempt to be frugal, I didn't buy his book, but the parts that Joe read were funny, lively, and both familiar and novel, in that way that some of the best books are. The Lou Barlow excerpt (even if the two have never met in person) alone was worth the price of admission.

Thankfully, music dominated the night--which is not a slight on the book. I just mean that Joe is such a gifted singer/songwriter that it'd be a shame to not hear his songs or, in this case, other people's compositions--because, of course, the book has a companion CD, wherein Joe offers his own takes on the tunes that color the characters' lives.

I'm wary of cover albums these days, but as with the reading itself, Joe shook up some of these prejudices. Though he chose some radio hits, such as Del Shannon's "I Go to Pieces" and, in his words, the "creepy" '70s ditty "Chevy Van," I can't say that either are obvious pieces. This wasn't a matter of redoing some song that's already been on a dozen TV commercials. In the case of both aforementioned titles, he simply sounded lovely. The former reminded me of the wonders he can work with classic pop; the latter comically contrasted with his darker, sadder songs.

On "Chevy Van," Joe enlisted James Walbourne from the Pretenders, who had played the Saratoga Mountain Winery the day before, and from Joe's own records. Though Joe both claimed the song was a hit before James' parents even knew each other and had to inform James of the chord changes even as they played it, neither technicality stopped James from adding some truly gorgeous touches to the tune.

Joe also treated us to a handful of his own tracks, including "Bum Leg" and "How Can I Compare," and brought out a couple more players: his brother Bob (thus comprising the Pernice Brothers) and Peyton Pinkerton, his longtime compatriot. These rarer tracks, combined with the equally atypical acoustic treatment, added up to an exceptional delight.

One of the other unforeseen effects of this setup was hearing Joe banter with the audience. Whereas his traditional shows tend to be straight-ahead affairs, he took advantage of the opportunity to explain the songs, both his own and the covers. Unsurprisingly, he was funny, profane, and easy-going. It'd be great to see more of that next time he comes to town.

Straight from England's Lake District, John Cunningham opened the show, and the Pernice Brothers accompanied him on a handful of tracks. Specifically, Joe took the lead vocals while Bob and John played and contributed harmonies. Joe explained how he had received John's CD more than a decade ago after a gig at London's Garage and how that recording turned out to be his favorite of the decade. John's songs were simple and melodic, echoing John Lennon at times. They did, indeed, sound better with Joe at the mic, but the tuneful fundamentals were already intact.

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above you and beyond me too

At a club known for its residencies and regulars, with a rich roster of celebrated singer/songwriters, Neil Finn qualifies as something special at Largo. Maybe it's the incredible music he's made over the years; maybe it's his ability to charm and win over everyone within earshot; maybe it's the relative rarity of his visits. Whatever the case, any show with Neil at Largo is one for the books, and a three-night (and more) semi-secret engagement is even more monumental.

Neil Finn, Largo at the Coronet, August 16-18, 2009: Earlier this summer, Jason Jones of the Daily Show introduced the concept of aged news:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
End Times
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Healthcare Protests

Anyway, if you don't mind that this post comes a full week after the shows or that the activities--not to mention even more "surprise" appearances I couldn't attend--have already been well documented on the Internet, enjoy this aged blog!

Though Crowded House came through the United States on two tours in the last couple of years, I failed to catch a single show--for the first time in nearly 20 years. Both runs were unfortunately timed; I was, um, on the road for other bands. In addition, the first foray hit all the venues I hate. In other words, I was really looking forward to Neil's shows at Largo.

Technically, the first show of this three-night stand was a 7 Worlds benefit--I believe the fifth such gathering for this Oxfam-affiliated project that happens to bring together some of my favorite musicians. I was definitely one of those people who ate up all the details of this latest 7 Worlds collaboration when the artists and their families first met up last December. In the interim, I've downloaded the shows, watched the YouTube videos, and generally daydreamed about seeing them for myself.

Granted, the group sharing that "favorite" title was not present, but the substitutions--local and otherwise--helped assuage those pangs. Monday and Tuesday's gigs were billed as Neil solo, but Elroy Finn and Jon Brion would back Neil on all three outings. Meanwhile, Lisa Germano sat in twice, while Bic Runga and KT Tunstall clocked one appearance each. Bic, in fact, nabbed the title of the most miles traveled in the least amount of time, navigating a round trip between New Zealand and Los Angeles in a mere three days. Oh, and Mark Hart dropped in for the last song of the last night.

It'd be foolhardy to claim that any lineup short of the blockbuster bill convened in New Zealand last December could re-create that same buzz and excitement eight months on and an ocean away, but this assemblage succeeded in conveying their spirit and the laid-back give and take. If there were any blemish on Sunday night's performance, it might've been the dearth of guitar picks, as the players seemed to swap between exactly two picks the whole night. However, that was not the point. Rather, this would be the first time many of us heard for ourselves the songs played live; additionally, we'd help a worthy cause (Oxfam) and, last but not least, welcome Neil Finn back to Largo.

In case anyone was worried, both Flanagan and Neil assured us from the stage that Neil approved of the new Largo and all its ensuing changes. My guess is he wasn't alone; though neither Elroy nor KT (and maybe Lisa?) had visited before, they showed few signs of nerves. Elroy stepped up to sing his own "The Cobbler," and Lisa jumped between violin, piano, percussion, and vocals. In between, she exchanged many hugs with her follow players--especially with KT.

Speaking of KT, she may have stolen the show. Her energy and the chemistry she shared with the other musicians are impossible to quantify, but her derring-do was evident. The most bravura moment of the night may have come during the encore when she not only tried a new song (about Margaret Trudeau), but navigated a chain of technical difficulties before she hit her stride. This trial by fire, in fact, transformed the song from the avant-garde number she initially promised into a punk blast.

This blog wouldn't be this blog if I didn't mention Jon Brion's roles. At a show where everyone qualified as a jack-of-all-trades, Jon mainly assumed the stance of a background player and maybe equipment manager (all the gear appeared to be his), but I can cite a few standout moments. There was "All Comedians Suffer," when he broke a string on his guitar, but proceeded to play with abandon--twisting the whammy bar, producing all sorts of unimaginable sounds--anyway. And who could forget the cover medley toward the end of the gig, where his contribution of Spinal Tap's "Gimme Some Money" helped guide Neil from "Jean Genie" to "Eight Miles High" and eventually to "Sunny Afternoon"?

Finally, there was the, er, finale of Lisa's lovely "From a Shell." Everyone joined in, but Jon, Elroy, and KT yielded an atypical instrument of choice: Red Stripe bottles. I want to say Elroy started it, but Jon soon took the reins, arranging and directing the artists in between swigs of beer. Skoal!

The single element tying together the whole night was--no shit--Neil Finn himself. I can't do justice to Neil's legacy or his draw; the droves of longtime (and I mean longtime) fans should be evidence enough. But even if you're new to Neil's show, his appeal should be clear. And if it isn't, the respect he commands among his fellow musicians should jump out. He's one of the most easy-going leaders I've ever seen, yet he inspires the artists around him to stretch themselves and to take a risk.

Neil led this charge, introducing many of those elements of chance into the show, such as trying out the vocoder, playing instruments he doesn't usually man (bass on "Reptile"), encouraging the artists to step up (urging "more" piano from Jon on "Girl Make Your Own Mind Up"), or letting them shine on their own (KT and Bic on "Black Silk Ribbon"), not to mention placing a couple of long-distance phone calls: one to wife Sharon, and one to Sebastian Steinberg. I hope our appreciation came through more clearly than the songs themselves.

This is all window dressing, though. Neil's talent is what's kept us coming back all these years, and it was on fine display. That voice, the songs, those bridges (!) remain as appealing as ever.

The setlist for Aug. 18, 2009

For his two "solo" shows, Neil favored the more obscure tracks from the catalog. I would've loved to hear, for example, "Distant Sun," just because I know Jon can go to town on it--and because I'll take any excuse to hear Neil raise high the roof beams--but that was not to be. However, it's hard to complain about any gig where Neil plays "Faster than Light" or "I Feel Possessed."

For my own selfish purposes, I was delighted to see Jon break out on "One Step Ahead," which he imbued with both sleigh bells and ragtime piano. Also, they worked up "Private Universe" once more, just as they had on Friday, complete with video, Neil's drum loop, and Elroy's live accompaniment. Finally, Jon's harmonium was a lovely and unusual touch on many of the songs.

Jon did not have a monopoly on unusual instruments, however. Neil succumbed to the MicroKorg, and with minimal instructions, he presented "Billie Jean" and another improvised piece. Lisa would turn out to be the mistress of the MicroKorg, effortlessly churning out a thumping beat. As Jon acknowledged, she proved to be the funkiest of the bunch.

Neil forgot the words to a few songs, most notably on "Sinner," which he had to try three times. He looked inconsolably perturbed by the lapse, but I don't think anyone held it against him. If there was a silver lining to these tiny missteps, it'd have to be the audience's immediate and vocal uptake, filling in the words that escaped Neil. It was an impressive display, I gotta tell you.

If I had to choose one shining moment from this three-night engagement, I wouldn't hesitate to name "Something So Strong" as the revelation. Neil explained we were to hear what the song sounded like before Mitchell Froom got involved. And despite his warning/apology to Jon that this would be a surprise entry (Jon: "You're a mean man"), they carried it off beautifully. Neil's demo was indeed a far cry from the radio hit that dominated the airwaves in the summer of 1987, leaning in a folksier direction, but its classic form couldn't be obscured. I'd love to hear that again. And again.

It only took 14 months to bring Neil to Largo at the Coronet, but I hope he knows he has a new home in Los Angeles--and it's not so different from the old one.

See also:
» i've got it bad
» wherever there is comfort, there is pain

i've got it bad

Spending two consecutive weekends at Largo--much less almost a full week in Los Angeles--in the same month that I'm supposed to be packing boxes and moving into a new apartment is probably not the most advisable course of action. However, I never gave it a second thought, and it all started, of course, with Jon Brion's Friday night show.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, August 14, 2009: Even if you didn't know that a very special guest was slated to join Jon's gig tonight, you might've started putting two and two together at the sight of the unusually large, buzzing crowd, when Jon promised to stay in the "upper to midtempo" range, or later in the evening, when the request process started breaking down. But before the audience could glimpse upon their favorite singer, they'd have to take in Jon's set first. (I hope they know how lucky they are.)

Red Bull in hand, Jon sat down at the piano and launched into his originals, including a piano-and-harmonica-laden "Roll With You," as well as the first song that came to my mind when he vowed to keep the show moving along: "That's Just What You Are." What I presume to be a new song fell squarely into the power pop camp, with a chiming guitar solo that would be ringing out of every bar and car radio if there were any justice in the world.

In my experience, any night Jon plays "Moon River" is a good one, even if this evening's rendition was slightly marred by the barrage of requests (some quite questionable) still hurtling toward the stage after he began the song. Jon good-naturedly commented on it, but that may have been lost on the shouters. The din eventually settled down, allowing us some quality time with this classic, which swelled with Jon's turn toward the Chamberlin and trailed off in a jazzy, fractured trickle of piano. Sigh.

Jon's video screens appear to be more than a passing fad, and for his first visual venture of the gig, he partnered Leonard Bernstein with Leon Theremin for a suspenseful, inscrutable build, upon which he added his own piano and MicroKORG touches to emerge with--ta da!--"Meaningless." Keener ears may be able to pick up on discrete elements of this multidimension mashup; I found the orchestra harder to discern, but the theremin came through loud and clear in all the right places. In addition, Jon's vocals suggested an eerie calm, unlike the exuberant iteration on the studio version, and they sounded great against the full-bodied accompaniment of his 2D collaborators.

Favoring the epic scale, Jon set off on "Someone to Watch Over Me" in all its grandiloquent glory, though this time with a bluesy tinge. And then he called on the guest of honor.

I'll say more about Neil Finn in an upcoming post, but for now, all you need to know is that any time Neil shows up at Largo, it's an event. The fact that he had just flown in from London about three hours prior only upped his cred in our eyes--as if he needed anyone's approval.

Neil and Jon kicked off with a couple of older Crowded House numbers, Neil strumming and Jon adding piano, celeste, and especially Chamberlin to the classics. But rather than play it safe, Neil (with Jon's help) created a drum loop of a "jungle" beat for the next song. As the song developed, Jon moved over to the vibes, then the Chamberlin, and from that point on, all other expectations fell by the wayside.

Neil may have instigated this experiment, but it mushroomed into the Manhattan Project in Jon's hands. To Neil's credit, "Private Universe" is a perfect candidate for Jon's newest techniques, as its free-form ending allows for all manner of deviations. And for all that Jon did with this song, there's no doubt he merely scratched the surface of its potential.

Our little corner of the room squealed in delight when Nels Cline -- via video -- joined in (according to reports, the footage had been shot after Jon and Nels's gig the week prior) and Jon isolated a burst of guitar to fill out the song. The virtual ranks would soon swell with the addition of Eric Clapton, John Entwistle, Louis Bellson, and an old-time four-piece quartet.

At one point, Neil himself would stop playing, transfixed by the spectacle and admitting that he just wanted to watch. While he could easily blame the jet lag for his astonishment, Neil contributed a bit of "Those Were the Days" over the mix, and though perhaps surprised, he hardly seem fazed by Jon's latest exploits.

Jon returned by himself for the encore, though Neil could be seen hanging in the shadows. I reckon the Red Bull from the top of the evening kicked in around this point, as Jon pummeled the drums and set the scene for "Tomorrow Never Knows." Talk about a perfect candidate--is there any song from the rock era more synonymous with experimentation?

The biggest highlights of this opus managed to show off two aspects of the video component. There's the musical element, best exemplified by the footage of Maria Callas, which matched up beautifully with the song's rising bedlam. Then there's the visual statement (and let's face it--music and video have gone together long before MTV went on the air), demonstrated on this occasion by Jon superimposing a clip of a ballerina over Nels's movements, in turn juxtaposed with a Bollywood dance routine. It might be overkill to report that Eric Clapton, the aforementioned singing group, Leonard Bernstein, Ravi Shankar, and Iron Butterfly clocked in as well, or that I think Jon pulled off a left-speaker/right-speaker separation during the course of the tune. File that one away.

We dashed off to the Little Room for the second set, which commenced with Jon on the piano for some Billie Holiday. Business as usual, right? Of course not! Neil Finn is in the motherfucking house, for pete's sake!

I could (and probably will) break down each song they performed together, but I need to mention this first: As far as I'm concerned, there are few artists who are warmer and more open than Neil. I can't approximate Neil's exchanges with Jon or the audience, except to say that he made this very small room feel ever more intimate, even for this longtime fan. (That could also be the wine and our front-row seats talking.)

Per Neil's suggestion, they delved into Carole King's greatest hits. Neil recalled that they tried it last time he was in town, but my records show we last heard these tracks during the previous visit. I'm not complaining--I've been requesting Carole King at Jon's shows for the last six months, and I'm grateful to Neil for taking up the slack. I'm also grateful to at least a couple of audience members for remembering the words and to everyone else who sang along.

Neil shared his abridged version of New Zealand's history, something along the lines of Sir Edmund Hilary climbing Everest to Lorraine Downes winning Miss Universe to Flight of the Conchords. In between, he told us of his personal track record with a local talent show, which he won on his third outing. In storytellers mode, he played the song he lost to ("Quando Quando") and the one he lost with ("Coming into Los Angeles"). However, I can't for the life of me recall what ditty finally nabbed him the title. Can anyone help with that detail? Though no one in the room claimed to know "Quando Quando," that didn't stop Jon from pouring some awesome piano over it.

Neil asked for requests, but demurred on "Running Up That Hill." No worries--it fell squarely into Jon's territory, and he obliged. Neil took the final two selections: the first tipping a hat to Hunters and Collectors, the second to his father. Though the night was drawing to a close, Finn Fest 2009 was only beginning.

Set 1
--Roll with You
--piano
--Over Our Heads
--That's Just What You Are
--new song?
--Please Stay Away from Me
--Moon River
--Meaningless
--Someone to Watch Over Me
--Fall at Your Feet *
--Into Temptation *
--Private Universe *

encore
--Tomorrow Never Knows

Set 2
--I've Got It Bad (And It Ain't Good)
--Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow *
--You've Got a Friend *
--It's Too Late *
--Coming into Los Angeles *
--Quando Quando *
--Running Up That Hill * [vox = Jon]
--Throw Your Arms Around Me *
--I Can't Get Started *

* = with Neil Finn

See also:
» i can teach you, but i have to charge
» manifestation of desire
» wherever there is comfort, there is pain