long shot

Use it or lose it -- and I need to maintain my editing skills now more than ever. Though I'm lagging, it's never too late for Aimee Mann at the Fillmore.

Aimee Mann, the Fillmore, May 12, 2017: Aimee Mann's records kind of sneak up on me. Mind you, she's my favorite lyricist, but her arrangements and production haven't soared to the same heights as I enjoyed in the past. But often a few years after their release, her albums are on my mind again, and this tour was no different. I've dived back into Lost in Space and The Forgotten Arm, and they haven't disappointed. Lost in Space, especially, is so beautifully crafted and a pleasure to rediscover. At this rate, it may take me a few more listens to truly appreciate Mental Illness, though that's more a comment on my attention span than on Aimee's skills.

The changes from tour to tour and album to album are subtle, but Aimee has a way of building on each iteration of her career. Mental Illness is notable for Jonathan Coulton's contributions, and if you've paid attention to Aimee's career, you know he was in the cast of her last round of Christmas shows. On this record, he co-wrote a few songs, including one in which he purposely tried to mimic Aimee's tone, starting from the very first line -- which Aimee took as a compliment and an insult. Otherwise, Aimee's band remained the same, though I didn't recognize the drummer.

The show somewhat favored Aimee's new record, but I was more struck by the old singles and album cuts she chose. In fact, she opened with a couple of classics: "4th of July" and "Little Bombs," both of which I happen to love. She sort of sprinkled the newer tracks among the older tunes, and only now has it hit me that it probably had to do with bringing Jonathan Coulton into the show (more on that later).



Nonetheless, the selections from her back catalog were stellar. I could go on about the older tracks all day, but I'll single out three: "Humpty Dumpty" because as soon as they struck the opening notes, I realized it had been in in my head for the previous week and my subconscious had been yearning for it; "Long Shot" because it's so rare on her setlists; and "Deathly" because it's often overshadowed by more famous tracks from Bachelor No. 2, and it has my absolute favorite backing vocal (read: Jon Brion) on all of her songs. OK, consolation prize goes to "The Moth," another dirge dressed up in pop splendor from Lost in Space.

Jonathan Coulton joined the band for a good section of songs on the new album and to chat with Aimee. It's no surprise that they get along so well as two of the brainier songwriters around. Aimee has come a long way from her self-proclaimed awkward early days; her dry wit is a treat if you can keep up. Aimee had joined Jonathan during his opening set for a few songs and to remind everyone that her label was releasing his new album. Hey, we all gotta pay the bills, but it's gotta be nice if you can do it with friends.

The concert drove me to the perfect outcome: I've been reacquainting myself with Aimee's records -- I mean, more than usual -- and guess what? They're fantastic! Thanks, Aimee, for framing our darker thoughts in the shiniest chords.

See also:
» winter wonderland

winter wonderland

Can you believe it's December already? My concert year will end with two beloved perennials. First up: Aimee Mann's Christmas show, featuring Ted Leo, Liz Phair, Jonathan Coulton, and John Roderick at Bimbo's 365 Club.

Aimee Mann and Ted Leo, Bimbo's 365 Club, December 6, 2015: This show was going to be a good one long before the date and hour approached because I managed to convince the McCormicks to join me, despite their busy holiday schedules. It doesn't happen enough -- a lament many of us surely share as our priorities shift and the days fill up. Leave it to an awesome show to bring us together.

My records tell me this is the fifth Christmas show I've seen from Aimee Mann and friends. That sounds too low, and I might've missed a date or two during the leaner year(s). Regardless, it's always a highlight on my calendar, and I look forward to seeing what Aimee and company have cobbled together for the audience.

Aimee has created a general template for these shows: Lots of music of course, connected by a goofy storyline, with help from talented friends. The tunes generally stay the same, with an emphasis on Christmas songs, particularly the titles from Aimee's holiday album. "Calling on Mary" might've been the most serious song of the night; otherwise, even the classics felt airy and fun. The surprises come with the guests and the annual narrative -- but more on that later because it was kind of complicated.

I guess I should note that this was the second year Ted Leo has joined the show; it's basically the Both's Christmas special. If you've been to a Both show, you've heard some of it, including Ted's turn on "A Bottle of Buckie." They also reprised that supersad donkey song and another classic track -- but more on that later.

Liz Phair was the first guest of the evening, and she went directly into "Supernova," which she mentioned was kind of about a star (in reference to the one over Bethlehem, I guess). I haven't seen her in concert in ages, and wouldn't you know, she still looks amazing. The surprise for me: I think she's a better singer now. I think most of us will admit it was never her voice that drew us in on the early records, but she sounded pretty good, especially on the Yuletide tracks, which can be a real test on the vocals. Later in the evening, she delivered a holiday version of her "pop" hit "Why Can't I," with the lyrics rewritten to reference shopping, tinsel, and decorations. As I recall, Susanna Hoffs and "Walk Like an Egyptian" filled that role last year.



About a million years ago, I saw Jonathan Coulton accompany John Hodgman on a book tour. Little did I know Jonathan Coulton would carve out a following over the years -- though I had every confidence that John Hodgman would continue to thrive. Rereading the blog entry, I see that I got a good look at the Jonathan Coulton's act even in that small window. He's a fantastic wordsmith with a ton of humor, and my mind immediately went to They Might Be Giants. Honestly, he's not my preference, but his own Christmas song was pretty great, and he took on the very important non-gentile role for "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve."

John Roderick filled out the trio of guests, and he assumed the coveted role of the Grinch in the annual reading. He took a fair amount of stick from Aimee for not rehearsing before the show and forgetting the cadence of his own song -- not to mention he seemed a little toasty toward the end. Hey, every holiday party has one, right?

Now back to this year's premise: Aimee and Ted addressed the elections their own way, with a yarn about Santa's term limits and the North Pole polls. In the process, Ted revealed his political aspirations and a secret identity. Aimee too dropped her own bombshell about past dalliances, and Jonathan Coulton had the biggest reveal of all, capped off with an Andrew Lloyd Webber number.



To tell you the truth, the premise was a little sweaty, especially compared to years past, but I loved watching the banter between Aimee and Ted. I suspect all the time they spend with comedians and improvisers has paid off. It's not like they were reading from a Teleprompter, but their exchange never sounded anything less than natural and convincingly on cue.

I've probably said this before, but my favorite fruits of the Aimee-Ted musical union is the "Voices Carry" revival. I don't think I can overstate how much I loved this song both then and now, and I knew it was coming as soon as Aimee strapped on the bass -- though I probably could've guessed at it as soon as this tour was announced. However, not content to play it as is, they toyed with it and penned an entirely new premise. Maudie mentioned that Jonathan Coulton may have lent his ear for lyrics to the troupe, and I wouldn't doubt it. But no matter who contributed, the rewrite on "Voices Carry" was inspired and hilarious. If Aimee and Ted ever decide to leave this songwriting thing, I bet they could punch up scripts around Hollywood.

They're the best thing to happen to the holidays since the Rankin-Bass productions, and as with Rankin-Bass, I hope they're back every year. It's a tradition worth celebrating.

See also:
» 2006: it's not going to stop
» 2007: unless you hate baby jesus
» 2008: if there's a star above
» 2014: here comes the jackpot question in advance
» "A woman lives here who is fond of triangles."

here comes the jackpot question in advance

With any luck, I'll be able to salvage this year's gig tally with a few late shows. Aimee Mann kicks off the season with her holiday extravaganza.

The Return of Aimee Mann's Christmas Show, the Fillmore, December 5, 2014: Has it been that long since Aimee brought her Christmas show back to the Bay Area? I know it's still an annual event in Los Angeles, and it's entirely possible I've slept on local dates. But wow, I've missed this highlight of the holiday season!

In Aimee's defense, the Christmas shows have always been a more ambitious affair than your average rock gig and thus require extensive preparation. On stage alone, you could see Christmas ornaments strewn across the floor, a couple boxes of costumes, and more microphones than usual for her band. Then again, the show was advertised as Aimee Mann and friends, following the precedent set by earlier runs.

The show opened with the intro to an old-school TV show called Murder, She Sang, featuring Aimee and Ted Leo as a pair of detectives chasing down perps and solving crimes. The clip bore all of Scharpling's auteur touches, but I'm too lazy to confirm it; surely another blog has the details. (Note: I was wrong! The video was, in fact, directed by Daniel Ralston.) Shortly thereafter, Aimee, Ted, and the Both personnel took the stage.

I have to admit I didn't take notes because I was so appalled and aghast at the bridge-and-tunnel yuppies planted to the side of me (more on them later), so the finer details will go AWOL, but at least there are plenty of highlights to report. As befits a Christmas show, Aimee, Ted, and the band did several Christmas songs, including an old-fashioned English carol and another in tribute to Ted's father ("Little Donkey"?). They even snuck in a couple of original tunes, from the Both and their respective catalogs. Aimee's track was "Save Me," and she apologized for its nonholiday content, but I disagree vehemently. The title alone screams of the season, from both theological and psychological standpoints.

But the bulk of the show hearkened back to that first clip, and early on, Aimee and Ted set up the night's conflict: Aimee's desire to take a break from murder mysteries and Ted's dedication to solving crimes. (Once more, I've reduced a fantastic comic conceit to flat prose. Good job, good effort!) Tim Heidecker (the first guest) forced this point right out of the gate, as he rushed to the stage to report that Santa Claus had been killed backstage. Aimee and Ted would return to the case many times throughout the night, even as they brought the rock.



The aforementioned Tim Heidecker reappeared several times through the show, starting with his own stand-up set. I gotta admit Tim and Eric always went right over my head, but he was fantastic onstage, particularly for shutting up the yuppies for a few minutes. Later, he piped in to remind Aimee and Ted of the police matter awaiting their attention, and he took a couple of musical turns. In one, he starred as the title character in "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch," and in the other, he represented the Jewish new year alongside Father Time (Aimee) and Baby New Year (Ted) on "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve."

The bona fide musical guest for the night was Susanna Hoffs, formerly of the Bangles and her solo career (and UC Berkeley -- go Bears!). Her first song fit into the holiday theme perfectly: "Hazy Shade of Winter." With help from Aimee and Ted, she also treated us to "Walk Like an Egyptian," but with new lyrics offering a lesson on the Jewish holidays, befitting Susanna's heritage, not unlike Morgan Murphy's Hanukkah rap from a few years ago. I'd recite some lyrics if I could, but all I heard was a throwaway reference to the Maccabees.



Rounding out the guest list, Handsome Jack brought up a random audience member for a pretty cool trick. Bless the woman playing the foil; I would've died from embarrassment.

Ultimately, Ted convinced Aimee to put on her detective coat (literally) and solve the crime. Their secret weapon was a song that would squeeze the truth out of anyone, Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmastime." Elementary, my dear Watson! The duo got their man, then serenaded us to Vince Guaraldi's classic "Christmas Time Is Here."

I've managed to trample the duo's impeccable timing and effortless banter, which was a huge part of the show. Aimee and Ted have been touring for more than a year now, and their connection shows. In their nonmusical moments, they were like an old vaudeville team or a screwball comedy. I could listen to them chatting to one another all night.

Back to the embarrassing yuppies: They squeezed in minutes before the band took the stage, already a few sheets to the wind -- so be it. Then it all went downhill after the first words I heard from them, referring to Aimee: "I hope she's wearing underwear." They were the definition of amateurs, trying to heckle Tim Heidecker and nearly getting into a fight with another couple who swooped in when one of the bridge-and-tunnelers disappeared to get more drinks. At one point, I thought they were going to whip out the credit cards and see whose credit limit was bigger. We later heard that the head fool actually puked on the floor before the show. It brought me right back to a laughably mortifying Wilco show at the Saratoga Mountain Winery -- coincidentally, one of the Aimee's regular venues in the Bay Area. I haven't even mentioned the guy in the front who got kicked out for videotaping the whole show on his camera or yet another interloping woman who tried to throw a pin to Aimee onstage. (Duh, you send it via the roadie!)

Despite all these shenanigans, Aimee put on arguably her most ambitious Christmas show yet, and the gang lived up to the legend. Someday, when we come to our senses, we may finally realize it ranks up there with other Christmas masterpieces like the Bing Crosby/David Bowie duet and the original Star Wars Holiday Special.

See also:
» if there's a star above
» unless you hate baby jesus
» it's not going to stop

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

way more real than real

Despite appearances on this blog, I haven't lost my enthusiasm for live music, but other priorities come up, and I'm making peace with the idea of not seeing every band that comes through town -- or, more pointedly, necessitates a trip outside of city limits (sigh, but more on that later). In fact, I probably would've skipped Aimee Mann's three-night stand at Yoshi's entirely if it weren't for a friend's visit, so I'm glad for the intervening influence.

Aimee Mann, Yoshi's, October 8, 2010: Those of you on Facebook may have been tagged in the relatively recent meme in which you list your 15 favorite albums in 15 minutes. I did my part, but I still feel pangs of regret over names I missed. High among them: Aimee Mann (and, well, women in general). If I had five more slots, Bachelor No. 2 would be right there!

Despite my brain fart, Aimee easily ranks as one of my favorite songwriters, and her live show has come a long way from her self-proclaimed nervousness of earlier outings. In the right place and with the right players, she really hits her groove. This gig came through on both points. For one, Aimee was joined by Paul Bryan and Jamie Edwards, rounding out the "acoustic Moog trio" she debuted around the time of Smilers. Secondly, the venue suited them beautifully--a proper, intimate room with seated arrangements, fine acoustics, and a loving crowd, not unlike that old place on Fairfax Avenue and, at the least, a far cry from the Arrow Stage at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass.

Setting the scene, a guy in the audience even yelled out, "I live for you!" shortly after Aimee took the stage. Rather than being creeped out, Aimee embraced it. To the fan's credit, who could blame him? Aimee looked fantastic in an ensemble topped by what appeared to be a blazer from Rico's husky boys collection. ("Is that what 'ragazzi robusti' means?")

The heart of this show appeared to be the new material Aimee is writing for a musical based on The Forgotten Arm, her concept album from a few years ago. Among the new titles were a duet with Paul Bryan and another tune she called the most depressing song she's ever written--which is saying a lot, considering her back catalog. If the lyrics are anything to go by, the title of that tearjerker may be something along the not at all forboding lines of "It's Easy to Die."

Another twist on the typical Aimee Mann show was her additional instrumentation--namely, her work on the high hat, operated by foot. With Paul mostly on bass and Jamie on piano and keyboards, Aimee supplemented her contributions on guitar with a touch of percussion. It was a nice embellishment, and it helped replicate the rich sound that's a hallmark of her albums.

In addition to tracks from The Forgotten Arm, Aimee focused on material from the Magnolia soundtrack and Lost in Space. Oddly, nothing from the earliest albums surfaced, which is always a bit of a downer to me, though I loved what I heard too.

If I had to name my favorite Aimee show, it'd be a toss-up between the two gigs I saw at the old Largo: the first one for revealing another side of her live personality, the second for the outright humor. At both shows, the song that became "Medicine Wheel" jumped out at me. At its debut, Aimee mentioned it was an attempt to write a song like Fiona Apple's, but tonight, she talked a little more about its origins as a poem by her sister that she set to music. And just as with that first performance, she started it on piano, but was soon joined by Jamie, who provided the more expansive and mellifluous notes.

In between songs, Aimee talked a lot. Much of the material centered on explaining the new musical, but she got in other fun asides, including a diss on the poetry appearing in The New Yorker and laments about the state of her hair. It's safe to say that Aimee has and continues to evolve as a live performer, one whom I'll enjoy watching for years to come.

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

amateur

The prospect of attending a huge, free musical festival featuring some of my favorite artists and several more appealing performers mere blocks from my apartment is both exhilarating and maddening. Even as my eyes grew wide at the sight of all those great names populating the bill, I knew that the explosion in talent would correspond to an uptick in audience. The question, then, becomes whether it's all worth the bother; for now at least, the answer is yes.

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, October 3-4, 2009
For my first couple of stints at the festival, I went with a plan, and it served me well, though I have a friend's fearless move to thank for my best positioning ever at the Banjo Stage. I'm never getting that close for the closing festivities ever again! With that concession fully banked, I flew under the radar last year, slipping in and out of the festival and catching the handful of acts that mattered to me. I had intended to do the same this year, but my twitchy nature won out, forcing a compromise. In a nutshell, Saturday, we wandered. Sunday, we camped.

Initially, I thought maybe the early acts of the day would be my favorites by default, just because the crowds had not yet convened. We wandered to the Star Stage in time to catch Jon Langford, Sally Timms, and the Sadies, filling in for Roger Knox, whose entry visa was denied, on Saturday, but Okkervil River delivered the true debut. Okkervil River largely reprised the set they played when opening for Wilco back in June, and much as they did then, they won over a good chunk of the audience with their impassioned, lively display. From the middle of the field, it was great to see the hands in the air and to hear Will Sheff work it the crowd as hard as he did earlier this summer.

In a similar vein, Elvis Perkins in Dearland threw the doors wide open on Sunday morning with a fun, brisk set. I've missed Elvis (who bore a striking resemblance to Abbey Road-era George Harrison) and crew more often than I've seen them, and that includes their last appearance in San Francisco. The mix-up isn't really worth explaining, except to say it ranks high among my ditz moments.



The band has written and recorded its fair share of moody, introspective numbers, but they opted for a mostly upbeat set for the festival, with their drummer strapping on the bass drum and moving to the front of the stage for several titles. For me, the highlight of their revue was a three-song stint featuring tunes from their forthcoming EP, out October 20.

The first selection was a spiritual called "Weeping Mary," but it was the transition to the second--whose title wasn't offered--that caught me by surprise. It was a full-on Eddie Cochran-style rave-up, and they followed up with a bluesy, soulful piece. That's going to be a great EP, I hazard. They closed with "Doomsday," thus killing my hope of hearing "Ash Wednesday," but their choice was definitely more appropriate for the hour and the setting. Note to self: Don't miss them again.

I've navigated some extreme measures to see my favorite performers, whether at a club, a festival, or elsewhere; by that barometer, I didn't do anything out of character to see my headliners at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. In fact, you could say I dialed it back, for a change. But after Saturday's middling effort, I figured I'd need to invest a little more energy if I wanted to catch either Neko Case or Aimee Mann the way I wanted to see them. Long story short: Everything worked out.

As much as I appreciate the festival's expansion into different genres, I still wonder how certain groups will go over with the masses, and prior to Aimee's set, I was apprehensive over the outcome. Aimee is nowhere close to bluegrass in any regard, and though she's hit the festival circuit more in the last few years, I can't wrap my head around the idea of her playing to anything other than mannered, courteous indoor audiences--even though I've seen Aimee take on similar circumstances before.

I repeat: Everything worked out (despite the woman behind me who asked me to sit down because I wasn't in the standing section--of a field?! for a free show!?). A doting group gathered at the front of the stage for Aimee's set, and as always, the songs from Magnolia drew the biggest response. Aimee even got to throw out the fun fact of her losing an Oscar to Phil Collins' "monkey love song." In the witty repartee department, she also shared that her forehead felt like a big solar panel as they played directly into the the sun.

My guess is that much of the audience hadn't seen Aimee before, but zealots regulars saw a couple of fun changes. I'm not sure if I've heard "Nightmare Girl" before, but I know that was a rare outing. Also, Aimee and her band revealed new talents when they each took up woodwinds for the beginning of "This Is How It Goes." The only oddity may have been the hoarding of Smilers tracks ("Freeway" and "31 Today") until the very end, but overall, the audience took in a good overview of Aimee's catalog of songs.



I had no doubt that Neko Case, however, would have any problems with the crowd. For starters, she was hardly a stranger, having played a supporting role at the festival a couple of years ago. And though Neko's sound is less definable these days, it's closer to the festival's namesake genre than most of the acts I saw on Sunday.

Neko's band, including Jon Rauhouse, remained intact, and Kelly Hogan stood by her side. (Also of note: The musicians gathered on the side of the stage to watch them, including Billy Bragg, Will Sheff, and Scott McCaughey.) Neko and Kelly, as always, are so entertaining that I find it hard to believe anyone can resist their charms. The women repeatedly lauded the organizers for allowing dogs into the festival, and other topics of conversation included Neko's ill-fitting jeans and her self-proclaimed lack of an ass. Neko's pipes were as staggering as ever, but at other moments, she chose to speak in--for lack of a better word--a high-pitched squawk. I hesitate to guess at what inspired that tone, but believe it or not, I'd heard a lot of weirder things at the festival.

Neko and company bounded all over her catalog, from the country-ish early works to the rich, ornate style she prefers these days. In between, she and Kelly offered generous shout-outs to the Sadies and worked up two of the song they'd co-written. In a strange twist, Marianne Faithfull had sang "Hold On Hold On" at the stage immediately to the back of the setup just prior to Neko's set, but that didn't stop Neko from running with it herself. They closed with a cover of the Shangri-Las' "The Train from Kansas City," such a perfect selection that you wonder how we'd never heard it before.

Those are the sets I feel most comfortable blogging, but I caught or attempted to catch several more artists over the course of the weekend, with varying degrees of success, comfort, and interest--not to mention the acts I didn't bother approaching, for whatever reason (the crowds, the cold, the lack of willpower). However, I managed to squeeze in among the throngs to watch most of Gillian Welch's set at the overattended squall known as the Banjo Stage.

The conditions would probably qualify as hellish were it not for Gillian and David, but they rewarded the hordes with guest appearances by Emmylou Harris and Old Crow Medicine Show. Emmylou and "Go to Sleep Little Baby" were not a surprise, but I gasped when all the above parties assembled for "The Weight." I'm not going to hear anything approaching those harmonies for a long time to come.

News reports peg attendance at this year's festival at 750,000--almost the population of San Francisco itself--and I think I smooshed into every single one of them at one point or another during the weekend. Threatening equal parts intrigue and insanity, Hardly Strictly Bluegrass tempts me as few other festivals do. I'll have to wait and see what 2010 brings, but I'll keep October open.

See also:
» now I try to be amused
» feels lucky to have you here
» play one more for my radio sweetheart
» searching for light in the darkness of insanity

if there's a star above

My plans to put up a Christmas tree for the first time in I don't know how many years fell by the wayside--again. At least I have Aimee Mann's holiday show to remind me of the season.

Aimee Mann's Third Annual Christmas Show, Bimbo's 365 Club, December 7, 2008: Here's what the holidays mean to me: Rankin/Bass reruns, tons of baking, lots of shopping, and time to see my friends and family. Fortunately, I can also look forward to at least a couple of regular musical events in this otherwise touring-adverse time of the year.



Aimee's show, in its third iteration, carried over familiar factors from years past, while at the same time bringing in new(ish) faces and sounds to keep us coming back for more. The overall show included fewer titles from One More Drifter in the Snow than before, though they reprised Aimee's own Christmas song, the Penn/Brion tune "Christmastime," and "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch," to name a few. Newer selections, however, included "Sleigh Ride" (which moved Aimee to giggle on every third line) and the Heat Miser song (featuring Patton Oswalt on guest vocals).

Speaking of guests, as much as I miss Paul F. Tompkins, I loved having Patton Oswalt on the bill. I haven't seen him team up with Aimee since the Acoustic Vaudeville tour in 2000, and though he served a slightly different role this time, he was nothing short of hilarious. Of course, Patton commented on the recent election and shared some Christmas memories. I wouldn't have minded hearing his Cirque du Soleil recollections again, but I'm not complaining about the new (to me) material.

Nellie McKay was the other newish addition. I wasn't particularly impressed with her at Outside Lands, but I got a better sense of her charm in this show. Her vocals and her quips meshed nicely with the rest of the players', and she even got Aimee's supporting players Jebin Bruni and Jamie Edwards to dance around during her solo portion. Still, she just doesn't do it for me overall.

Thankfully, the returning members of the cast get better and better. Not that I needed yet another reason to love Grant-Lee Phillips, but his turning up as Willie Nelson to cover "Voices Carry" assured him a throne in my Hall of Fame. (And I'm sure that Patton knew exactly how close to home he hit in his introduction for "Willie" when he characterized a large portion of Aimee's audience as "over-40 shut-ins.") And that's not even taking into account Grant's other costume changes, with no help from his bandmates. In addition, the Hanukkah Fairy, a.k.a. Morgan Murphy, turned out a new rap this year covering the challah in her oven, made possible via immaculate conception.

Following last year's blueprint, Aimee presented a movie, "A Christmas Carol Aimee," directed by Tim and Eric and featuring Aimee as the Scrooge figure. You probably won't be surprised to hear that the film parodied the Dickens classic; that Paul F. Tompkins, John Krasinski, and John C. Reilly showed up in cameos; and even that it was incredibly hilarious. But we also saw a new face: Michael Cera, playing much closer to Evan from Superbad than George Michael from Arrested Development.



Lest you fear we succumbed to sugar (Plum Fairy) shock, no worries--Aimee dropped in several of her own tart, studied songs, about one from each album. Among Aimee's originals, I kinda bounced around inside when they rocked "Long Shot"; not only is it from my favorite of her albums, but I kinda love that she did a song that repeats the lyric "you fucked it up" at a Christmas show.

Same time next year?

See also:
» unless you hate baby jesus
» it's not going to stop

probably more like hanging around

Did I want to attend Largo at the Coronet's inaugural show with Aimee Mann? You betcha, but you gotta choose your battles/itineraries. Besides, the club is new, and I'll surely be back often--Largo overload will beckon soon enough.

Aimee Mann, Largo at the Coronet, June 9, 2008: One of the things I hate about growing older as a concertgoer is the choice of venues I'm supposed to favor. OK, I don't exactly love general admission campouts, and I'm not really willing to deal with two opening acts and 11:30 p.m. headlining slots these days, but dammit, I'm not dead yet! I hate that I'm expected to patronize the summer winery circuit--those prim, seated, admittedly lovely outdoor venues, usually out in the 'burbs, intended for musicians and fans of a certain age. Unfortunately, that's where the likes of Aimee Mann, Crowded House, and others often end up these days.

I, however, get to gloat that I don't have to put up with them, as long as I'm willing to make a trip down south. And if you've read this blog before, you know where my compass points. Also, I'm now hooked on seeing Aimee at Largo, where she seems more willing to take chances and diverge from the premeditated plans.

Aimee's first utterance to the audience certainly fell into the "divergence" category, as her disembodied voice sounded out over the PA. It was so unexpected, in fact, that we didn't realize she was talking until she sharpened her tone and told us to shut up and to welcome Paul F. Tompkins to the stage. I'm kinda killing it here, but I swear it was a lot funnier than I can get across.

Speaking of funny, PFT was, as usual, great in his brief opening set. He was probably at his most hilarious not during his act proper, but when he went to introduce Aimee, who was still tuning and asked him to keep talking until she and the band were ready. There followed several minutes of the two of them jokingly sniping at each other through the Coronet's heavy drapes. I can't say much more about it except that PFT capped the conversation with the most hyperbolic introduction ever (there was something about us chopping off our hands after the show because we would never clap as we had this evening)--which Aimee not so humbly accepted.

The Largo schedule listed Aimee with a full band tonight, but only Paul Bryan and Jamie Edwards accompanied her. She explained the omission later, but I didn't particularly mind, as I love this grouping. They weren't alone, though, as a harmonica player (Jack Rudy), Aimee's customary drummer (John Sands), and even PFT himself joined them at various points in the set. In PFT's case, he filled in for Sean Hayes on "Ballantines."

As you might expect, they went heavy on the @#%&! Smilers material and filled out the rest of the set with older titles, including Magnolia tunes, the seasonally apt "4th of July," and the relatively left-field choice of "Long Shot." In addition, they covered '70s-era Elton John and Rod Stewart, keeping with Aimee's comments in recent interviews that she was going for the decade's singer/songwriter vibe for this album.

I'm pretty crazy about Aimee's music, but I gotta say, Smilers is the first of her albums since Bachelor No. 2 to grab me so quickly. For me, at least, the difference is clear: Paul Bryan's production chops have proven a worthy match for her impeccable songwriting. His arrangements and other creative details really bring out the nuances of her music: the gallows humor and the damning self-knowledge, especially in contrast to her utterly hummable melodies.

As much as I dig Smilers, I was surprised to hear the songs in their final studio versions, especially after listening to several of them develop over the last few years. Who knew there'd be so much Moog on the record? Or that "Medicine Wheel," which she first played at Largo two years ago (as a tip of the hat to Fiona Apple), would morph from a challenge to herself to a stinging rebuke? In fact, all the songs I thought were charming jaunts in their earlier incarnations ("Borrowing Time," for example) reveal their thorns on the album, and they carried a lot more weight tonight. However, I chalk up this disparity more to my general denseness than to Aimee's writing.

My hatred of the winery circuit isn't the only rationalization I dredged up to see this show; I just love the affect Largo has on Aimee. In addition to bantering with PFT, she rolled out great stories, including the belabored process of making music for movies ("Borrowing Time"), the famous director who inspired "Cigarettes and Red Vines," and not so much a jab at Feist, but at the biz's short-term memory, including that of her manager.

Largo's halo effect was probably most evident in the encore, which extended beyond her typical couple of tunes. As a bonus, she didn't dismiss most of the audience requests out of hand (though she commented that she's the "anti-Jon Brion" because she never remembers words or chords or if even she's heard the song before). I thought for a second we might get my request for "Ray," but my hunch proved wrong. Still, I can't complain about the final cut of songs, comprising one of my favorites from The Forgotten Arm ("Video"); the misheard "blue balls," which Aimee sarcastically berated until she discovered that the fan had actually asked for "Little Bombs"; and charmingly cobbled-together "Ghost World."

One final note before I go: Due to crossed signals and general miscalculations, we barely made it to our seats before they shut the gates. Man, I would've had egg on my face if I'd screwed up this one. To anyone who might accompany me to Largo at the Coronet in the future: It won't happen again, I promise!

See also:
» unless you hate baby jesus
» i'm the stuff of happy endings
» today's the day

today's the day

If it feels a little like Groundhog Day around here--you can't tell me you're surprised. But in case you're wondering, I will eventually see musicians mentioned fewer than 10 times in this blog. Check back at the end of the month, but be warned: It's gonna get a whole lot worse before it gets better. Carry on.

Aimee Mann, Largo, February 5, 2008: Largo's monthly calendar is an endless source of temptation for me, but believe it or not, sanity usually wins out. For example, in the run-up to Aimee's show, I waffled more than a line cook at an IHOP as I weighed the prospect of shoehorning another trip into a month already laden with out-of-town engagements vs. seeing one of Largo's most famous patrons almost literally in her element. In the end, a lovely little coincidence/excuse availed itself, and I latched onto that loophole like the world-class rationalizer I am. That's a good reason, right?

Two years ago, I saw for myself how awesome the combination of Aimee Mann and Largo could be. I know I parrot endlessly the idea that there's no place like Largo, but certain artists drive home that point to a prodigious degree. Of that group, you'll find no better example than Aimee.

Take, for example, her gig here last month. Aimee and gang put on a valiant effort, but I gotta say they were a bad match for the club and the event. However, I left more disappointed in the audience than the artists.

Fast-forward a month, though, and you'll find no such worries at Largo, and Aimee allayed these concerns immediately, arriving onstage with the buoyant cry of "Mitt Romney '08!" Rest assured, it was strictly Super Tuesday humor; she later called the former governor of Massachusetts "creepy"; there were words for Huckabee and Bush too.

So along with her trusty cohorts Paul Bryan and Jamie Edwards, who filled out the "acoustic-Moog trio," she did a bunch of new songs from her forthcoming album, Smilers, arriving in April. They opened with two tracks that are already settling into her live repertoire, "Freeway" and "31 Today," which I've tried to describe earlier. In all, we heard seven or eight songs from the new LP tonight. I realized I've heard at least a couple of them before; she aired the one with the "bitch" lyric at that 2006 Largo show and the duet with Sean Hayes (though Paul Bryan filled in tonight) at the most recent Christmas shows.

You know that Aimee isn't about to release, say, a Timbaland remix anytime soon, so it should come as no surprise that the Smilers material featured her trademark songcraft and workmanship. But in case you were bracing yourself for the tempered tone of Lost in Space and The Forgotten Arm, you might like to know that we even heard some upbeat numbers, such as "Freeway," the Sean Hayes duet, and another song that was commissioned (and ultimately rejected) by the makers of Shrek III.

Anyway, that was the first half of the show. The second half comprised older songs, mainly requests, from a wide swathe of her solo discography. There were a few miscues, such as when Aimee and Paul "let" Jamie tickle out a prolonged intro for "Video" while they settled some musical question between them. On another song (I can't recall which), Aimee sang the entire first verse in the wrong key before she realized it, 'fessed up, and corrected herself--quite charmingly, I might add.

Her choice of backing players was not so surprising on the surface, as both Paul Bryan and Jamie Edwards have been with her for a while now, but it was odd to see only the two of them. That is, there was no drummer, aside from Aimee briefly batting the bongos for "You're with Stupid Now." Instead, they made up a lean, agile unit that allowed Aimee to entertain a well-edited bundle of audience suggestions. In fact, I think this was the first show I've seen where Aimee didn't do any Magnolia-related tunes. On the other hand, we got some unexpected choices, such as "How Am I Different," which I didn't expect to work as well as it did without electric guitar.

The night's unifying element was, of course, Aimee--not just her songs but her very demeanor. I don't think I've ever seen her so relaxed and open, and throughout the night--whether responding to an overzealous fan, relating the machinations behind soundtrack work, or bursting the encore bubble--her bone-dry humor grounded the sometimes tragic tales she weaves. Mostly, though, she made us laugh. A lot. Especially when she closed the show with another call for "Romney '08!"

I flew home the next morning, skipping Aimee's second Largo show (as well as an invite-only gig the day after--not that I got tickets for it anyway), and as you might expect, I felt a tinge of regret. On the other hand, I left with memories of a great show that reminded me why I love both Aimee and Largo. I'm looking forward to this new album and the gigs surely to follow.

See also:
» i'm the stuff of happy endings
» you look like a perfect fit
» unless you hate baby jesus

you look like a perfect fit

Comedy and music coming together--it sounds like a certain place I love so much, but in fact, it's happening in my own town. Would you believe it just happened to include some of the names from that other place? Go figure!

Aimee Mann, Mezzanine, January 10, 2008: I'm a latecomer to San Francisco Sketchfest, but I had a great time at a couple of events last year. I would've been happy if they kept me solely in stitches, but the fest's organizers apparently decided to up the ante this year by bringing in musical guests as well. Even better, they chose one of my favorite artists, Aimee Mann, for opening night festivities.

But Aimee was only one part of the show, and before she came on, we took in a full roster of comics. Heading up the night were Kristen Schaal (Mel from Flight of the Conchords) and Kurt Braunohler, sort of channeling Donny and Marie, complete with costume changes, but with much better banter and dirtier jokes. In addition to Kristen and Kurt, Rhys Darby (also from Flight of the Conchords) showed off his sound-effects skills, Todd Barry slayed me, and Paul F. Tompkins spent about half his set trying to avoid telling his material. That's as much as I can report, though, as I prefer to leave the punchlines to the professionals.

Aimee, with Paul Bryan's accompaniment, closed out the show with a short set that included a couple of older songs ("Little Bombs" and "Save Me") and three new tunes, likely from her upcoming album. I've now heard "Freeway" at three different shows, and this supercatchy, upbeat rocker shows all the signs of being Aimee's next single (remember those things?). On the other hand, "31 Today" was new to me, though I know there's a video of the song readily available on the Internet. Both "31 Today" and "Columbus Avenue" were more in the mold of Aimee's introspective observational pieces.



Perhaps to offset the emotional downturn (not to mention the rising chatter in the club), Aimee brought out Paul F. Tompkins to help her close out the set with "I Want You to Want Me." Paul added a surprisingly twangy touch to the vocals, but as usual, he did himself and his friends proud.

Of course, Aimee (along with both Pauls and several other players) had come through San Francisco just last month for her Christmas show, but it was a different crowd and an entirely different context tonight. Toward the end of their segment, Aimee and Paul F. Tompkins joked about no one paying attention to their banter anyway. Though this was far from true, it was hard to tune out the buzz of voices coming from the back of the room. They stuck it out anyway, taking it in stride with a loose, goofy spirit.



Do comedy and music go together? Good lord, yes! And when done right, it's right up there with peanut butter and chocolate as one of the coolest combos known to humanity. I applaud Sketchfest for making moves in this direction, but maybe the execution will work a little better next time.

See also:
» unless you hate baby jesus

unless you hate baby jesus

With my own Christmas plans somewhat derailed this year, it's nice to know that at least some traditions are going strong. Also, if you have room at the stable for me and two dogs this Christmas, drop me a line!

Aimee Mann's Second Annual Christmas Show, Bimbo's 365 Club, December 2 and 3, 2007: Back when I sent out Christmas cards, I may have pulled the supremely cheapo move of collecting extras from years past and mailing them, with the hope that the same card wouldn't land in the same friend's mailbox.

I don't know if Aimee Mann does that, but her Christmas show, in a manner of speaking, does not.



So though we saw some of her friends (Paul F. Tompkins, Morgan Murphy) and bandmates (bassist Paul Bryan, pianist/keyboardist Jamie Edwards, and drummer John Sands, accompanied by new--for the group--addition Mark Spencer on lead guitar) return to the lineup, we also got a good dose of fresh material too.

The biggest update was a little film Aimee presented, charting her "Peanuts"-like "journey" to the Christmas show. I won't try to describe it too much, except to note that it was hilarious and that both Aimee's and Paul F. Tompkins's acting chops were spot-on. Oh, friends-of-Largo John Krasinski, Emily Proctor, Fred Armisen, Bob Odenkirk, Patton Oswalt, Ben Stiller, and Will Ferrell turned in cameos too. But don't let those names dazzle and derail you; as good as they were, Aimee was the star attraction.

Also new this year was a seemingly local emphasis on musical talent, as Aimee tapped a couple of Bay Area figures for the show. This is where I hang my head in shame, as my incessant rock tourism has led me to squander a lot of opportunities to see the acts who happen to live and work in town. Thankfully, artists such as Aimee take up the slack, as both Sean Hayes and Chuck Prophet were pretty awesome, though in different ways.

Sean Hayes, who graces Largo from time to time, exhibited many of the characteristics you'd expect from someone familiar with the club. That is, his songs were thoughtful, wry, and effortless, and his stage presence assured and welcoming. On the second night, he and Aimee performed a duet that will appear on her new album, and both nights, he rolled out the only song in his repertoire that could be vaguely connected to Christmas: a tune about having sex on the living room floor with Mary Magdalene.

Chuck Prophet, on the other hand, brought the rawk. He and Aimee belted the Christmas song that Michael Penn and Jon Brion wrote a million years ago, then with just her band, he dug into covers of Iggy Pop and Alex Chilton songs. The second night, the band seemed to especially relish the second number, roaring out the "hey"s in unison.



Paul and Morgan reprised their roles as comic foils and showed off their musical bent along the way. Paul provided the especially louche-sounding half of "Baby It's Cold Outside," complete with a moral to the story ("no means no"), as well as the more authoritarian tone to "You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch." In between songs, he also worked his stand-up, sharing a combination Christmas story/public service announcement that DARE might want to get behind.

Morgan donned the body suit and tutu once more (along with a big cardboard cut-out of the Star of David hanging on her chest) for her turn as the Hanukkah Fairy. This year, however, she was more than the window dressing for the show, as she also kicked out a rap about the story of Hanukkah, complete with backing vocals from Aimee herself. Yet again, I will invoke audience privilege and not attempt to replicate her rhymes, except to say that there was a shout-out to Loehmann's and the Trader Joe's on Geary and Masonic among the couplets. Though she stole the show, the Hanukkah Fairy couldn't join us the second night, as she had to fly back to L.A. for a one-line role in a Jeremy Piven movie. Hmph.



Aimee's musical contributions were fairly similar to what we heard last year, highlighting songs from her Christmas album, and for the most part, they hit the older tracks you'd expect too. Thus, we got some of the slightly more holiday-themed songs ("Clean Up for Christmas," "Jacob Marley's Chains"), as well as her go-to favorite hits ("Deathly," "Save Me"). I always want to hear "Deathly," but Aimee reworked it this round, starting out with just her voice and the acoustic guitar, bringing in the band, then ending on a gospel-like flourish, in the process delivering on the song's grand arc, both lyrical and musical.

On the second night, Aimee also tried out a couple of tunes from her forthcoming album (due out in the spring), including the aforementioned duet with Sean as well as "Freeway," which I recall hearing the one time I've seen her at Largo.



December means a lot of things to me, as it does to many people, but if Aimee's willing to make her Christmas show a regular gig, I'm glad to add another item to that long list of associated events.

See also:
» we can be us
» it's not going to stop
» i'm the stuff of happy endings

it's not going to stop

Regular readers almost got a reprieve. I'd vaguely planned to catch a Cat Power show over Thanksgiving weekend, despite my earlier claims of having hit the Chan Marshall wall. Alas, it didn't happen (I blame the tryptophan), so you're stuck with the usual objects of my obsession.

While we're on the subject, a warning: Barring extenuating circumstances, it's gonna be nearly all Largo, all the time until the end of 2006, including the following Largo-away-from-Largo scenario. You're on notice.

Aimee Mann's 1st Annual Christmas Show, Bimbo's 365 Club, December 4 and 5, 2006: I've squandered a lot of opportunities to see Aimee Mann, perhaps most foolishly during her (arguably) best years, following the success of Magnolia and her masterpiece Bachelor No. 2. It took that long for me to realize how much I love her. But I got a lucky break when I caught the Acoustic Vaudeville tour, featuring Aimee, Michael Penn, and Patton Oswalt at Bimbo's in 2000. I'm pretty sure nostalgia originally moved me to buy tickets to that show, but ultimately, the gig is less a testament to a longing for the past than a peek at my future life as a Largo nerd.

Only time will tell if the gigs' "1st annual" appellation will hold up, but at least the "Christmas" billing was well represented onstage. In addition to the usual array of instruments, more symbols of the season dotted the setup: a pair of reindeer, a Christmas tree, several stockings, strings of lights. Despite these details and the addition of some of Largo's favorite names, I don't think we really knew what to expect from the show.

Even after Aimee and the band had worked their way through a couple of songs, their intentions weren't clear until Paul F. Tompkins joined them onstage. As Aimee and Paul chatted back and forth (with Aimee getting in as many zingers as Paul), they revealed that they were going for a Bob Hope/Andy Williams/Donnie & Marie vibe. Aimee and Paul also proved that their friendship is not just an affectation for the tour. They bantered effortlessly and giddily, though it also felt like they were sharing a big private joke that we couldn't guess at.

In the spirit of those '70s holiday specials, Aimee eventually duetted with each of her big-name guests: Paul, Grant-Lee Phillips, and John C. Reilly. Paul, especially, sounded better than expected. Each also got his time in the spotlight: Paul with his MC responsibilities, Grant as his usual troubador self, and John turning in spoken word duties.

I've never caught Paul's standup, so I'm not familiar with his style apart from what I've seen on VH1's Best Week Ever. I think I like his banter more than his routine, but I loved what he added to the mix. As I've stated again and again, Grant-Lee is one of my longtime favorites, and his voice is always a beautiful thing. I was just happy to hear him with an electric backing band for the first time in a while! I adored hearing Aimee on backing vocals for "Truly Truly," and you had to smile at his duet with Paul on "Little Drummer Boy" (with a heavy tip of the hat to Bing Crosby and David Bowie). John C. Reilly's singing chops are well known, but watching him act out some of the lines from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, I realized that may be the closest I ever get to seeing him in a play.

Rounding out the cast were cameos by Scott Miller (the Loud Family); on the first night, he treated us to an old hymn and a Peanuts classic, but when he did his own songs the second night (complete with an Aimee duet), I understood the connection Aimee must feel with his detailed and maudlin songcraft. Last but not least was Morgan Murphy playing the Hanukkah Fairy--in a white body suit and a pink tutu. Morgan was pretty funny when I saw her with Aimee at Largo back in April, but at Bimbo's, she stole the show. Her mention of the Trader Joe's on Masonic alone was worth the cost of admission.

What about the hostess? In addition to her razor-sharp wit, Aimee treated us to a set heavy on selections from her new Christmas album and a handful of her own songs, including the always popular Magnolia-era hits. The last few times I've seen Aimee, she's turned on her inner Joni Mitchell, and she did so again both nights. It worked nicely on "Red Vines," but "Deathly" didn't fare so well. Though I liked what she did with the vocals, I wasn't a fan of the overall arrangement. One of my favorite aspects of the song is the build toward the bridge, and this new version sort of erased that wonderful, suspenseful effect. That might be my only complaint, especially since she gave us what she claimed was her first-ever performance of "Way Back When."

The ensemble closed out the show in the only way that made sense: with a big singalong visited by both Santa Claus (John C. Reilly) and the Hanukkah Fairy. I was gonna let you guess which one brought the confetti, but I couldn't resist posting the picture.

It's an odd affliction, the need to see an artist repeatedly for fear of missing some nuance that could cast a brand-new light on the performer in question. I know that most bands' performances don't change much, but I'm willing to stick it out for those nuggets of originality, especially if they're sandwiched between songs I love so much.

At this point, you don't have to ask me of all people if it was worth going to both nights. The two shows shared more elements than differences, but we got a slightly different setlist over the two nights, and the participants even mixed up their stage banter. If I had to choose, I guess I liked the first night better, if only because the group seemed less sure of themselves and, thus, more open to goofiness. In fact, Aimee later mentioned that the show felt more like a dress rehearsal than a real gig, but I think this loose take really energized the festivities. The second night, the crowd felt more responsive, and I enjoyed seeing what the performers did to keep the material fresh for themselves.

See also:
» i'm the stuff of happy endings

a verse, then a verse, and refrain

The ads for these 826 Writing Centers benefits claimed that the shows would address the age-old question of which is better: words or music. OK, maybe it isn't Sophie's Choice, but a lot of us would be hard-pressed to cite one over the other.

Revenge of the Book Eaters, Palace of Fine Arts, August 28, 2006: Maudie, Trish, and I speculated about the format of the evening's proceedings, but not too surprisingly, it rolled out a little like a variety show, only without dancers or ventriloquists. Even Jonathan Richman stopped short of turning on the twinkle toes.

What we did get was the perpetually hilarious Patton Oswalt as the master of ceremonies, opening the show and interspersing short comedy routines between acts. Over the course of the evening, he brought out Dave Eggers and Sarah Vowell for the literary content, as well as Zach Rogue, Mark Kozelek, the aforementioned Jonathan Richman, and Aimee Mann for the musical component.

To be more specific, Dave Eggers introduced a film about the writing centers, whereas Sarah Vowell read an essay about her new favorite explorer, with Patton Oswalt pulling overtime in the role of the beloved pioneer. During the intermission, the two publishing titans offered hugs (Dave) and buddy punches (Sarah) in the lobby for anyone willing to pay the price.

The musical guests were what really drew me in, and they ran hot and cold. I haven't seen Zach Rogue since Rogue Wave opened for Spoon a few years ago. Tonight, he was in good voice, and his indie pop definitely translated to the solo acoustic treatment. He even dared to subject us to a song with admittedly awful lyrics, and overall, he kicked off the proceedings with charm.

I can't say the same for Mark Kozelek, whose music and delivery, we all agreed, were way too soothing for a room of that size. He also confirmed for me that I need never see him in concert again, if the two previous shows I've seen hadn't already convinced me.

Patton was pretty gaga over Jonathan Richman, but to be honest, he's a taste I haven't acquired. To these uninformed ears, he sounded as he always does, and you either love him or you don't.

Patton had introduced Jonathan Richman as a living legend, and he poured on even more love for the headliner, Aimee Mann, whom he called one of the greatest songwriters we have. Considering he and Aimee have longtime professional ties, his words were somewhat expected, but he might as well have been reading my mind; in my highly suspect opinion, no other modern artist epitomizes the words/music balance as well as Aimee.

This is actually the third time I've seen Aimee since April, a pretty high concert count for me. Though I always look forward to her gigs, I'm wary of potential disappointment. I'm happy to say that the Palace of Fine Arts was a much more hospitable environment for her than Stern Grove, but of course, it was no contest compared to Largo. (I know, I know--always with the Largo! Make it stop!)

As the headliner, Aimee got a little more time than the others, so she and Paul Bryan (a fixture from her touring band) hit six songs, almost evenly distributed across her discography. In the hushed room, we didn't miss a syllable of her finely wrought wordplay, and tonight, her voice had more of a growl than I've heard before, especially during "You're With Stupid Now," thus better punctuating her barbed lyrics. Aimee herself said she was honored to do what she could for the writing centers, and among other compliments, she revealed that Dave Eggers was a "world-class whistler." Unfortunately, his wife and Sarah Vowell talked him out of joining Aimee onstage for a whistle solo.

I don't think we reached a definitive answer on the question that kicked off these shows, though I wouldn't say we expected one either. Maybe we'll just have to do this again before we find out.

See also:
» less a deluge than a drought
» i'm the stuff of happy endings
» you're my favorite faith healer
» the Book of Brion 2 has landed

less a deluge than a drought

Happy Father's Day!

Aimee Mann/Seu Jorge, Stern Grove, June 19, 2006: It's a joke (I hope) among my family and friends that I operate on full throttle when it comes to shows, but that's not entirely true. Granted, my more zealous episodes are well documented, but I occasionally show up at a venue right right when the band comes on. Or I misfire and am overwhelmed by throngs who arrived much earlier than me. And sometimes, I throw in the towel and sit out a show altogether.

That was the case Saturday night, when I skipped the Aimee Mann gig in the North Bay, thanks to a foot injury I can blame on only personal ineptitude. But I knew Aimee would be in San Francisco for a free show on Sunday, so I opted for the more local appointment and the podiatric relief, though I knew I'd be trading in the intimacy and comfort of a small club. Them's the breaks.

Fast-forward to Sunday morning, when I drove over to Stern Grove on an uncharacteristally sunny day right after fulfilling my duties at the Fillmore box office. I've seen Aimee in San Francisco in the past, and it's always been totally mellow. I figured if I could get to the Grove by noon, I'd be OK.

Boy, was I wrong. At 11, just about every nook and cranny of the lower grove was occupied, though I managed to find a tiny spot for myself. I overheard the woman behind me saying that she had arrived at 8 a.m. It worked out fine, though. They opened up some of the benches in the front, and I was able to get a decent seat for the actual show.

Stern Grove's concert schedule had been announced months ago, so it was a happy accident that Seu Jorge and his band were welcomed by flocks of sexy Brazilians (and those who aspire to be such) decked out in the familiar green and yellow and celebrating the beautiful weather and their home team's World Cup victory that morning. We all danced along to the slinky, seductive rhythms, and I could hear plenty of voices singing along to the more famous songs. Alas, he didn't do any Ziggy Stardust tunes, but I respect him for not giving in to the easy hook. His band was fun-loving and energetic, performing various feats of tambourine. I couldn't help but wonder how Aimee's introspective, finely wrought tales of crushed hopes, abject failure, and crippling delusions would go over with this party crowd.

A couple of months ago, I saw the best Aimee Mann show I've had the good fortune to witness. As it turned out, her appearance at Largo was a warm-up for her summer tour, and this show was the road version of it. That is, start with the Largo show, then strip away the intimacy, the respect, the interaction, and Flanagan's hair. Voilà--you have the Stern Grove appearance!

OK, maybe that's too harsh. Free gigs are notorious for apathy and opportunism on both sides of the stage, especially if you're a fan who wants to hear a full set of music. Aimee and gang put in a solid effort, even as the crowds streamed out and/or talked over the music. It was certainly no contest for my ringside seat from April, though I made it all the way to the front by the halfway point of the set. We got the solo acoustic "It's Not Safe" again, as well as "One," which I hadn't heard before. We also saw Aimee on the baby grand for "Nothing's Good Enough," and she celebrated her victorious turn on the keys by triumphantly throwing her arms in the air.

If impending unemployment weren't part of my near future, I'd consider catching Aimee in another town on this tour, just so that I wouldn't have to think back on this show as my last view of her. But I won't be doing that--at least, unless she comes back to Largo. Them's the breaks, indeed.

See also:
» i'm the stuff of happy endings
» you're my favorite faith healer
» the Book of Brion 2 has landed

i'm the stuff of happy endings

I admit it--I rang Largo just in case the "very special guest" slot turned out to be Neil Finn, but once I got the callback for Aimee Mann's show, I couldn't resist. At the least, I could strike another signature Largo event from my scorecard. At best--and this is a hell of an upshot--I'd get to see one of my favorite songwriters extremely up close and personal.

Aimee Mann, Largo, April 19, 2006: Besides Jon Brion, Aimee is perhaps the performer most closely associated with Largo, but I've never seen her there, not in the heyday of the Mann/Brion perfect-pop machine, nor even hanging around the kitchen. The closest I came was the Acoustic Vaudeville tour that she and Michael Penn took on the road, inspired by their nights at Largo. That's still one of my favorite shows of all time, helped along in no small part by Patton Oswalt's hilarious banter.

Patton wasn't around tonight, and frankly, I wasn't sure Aimee would deliver in such close quarters. I've seen lackluster shows from her in the past, but following Flanagan's intro, Aimee set the tone. She's always claimed onstage banter isn't her strong point, but she seemed to be in a chatty, relaxed mood from the outset, when, immediately after taking the stage, she announced, "I am completely full of Largo food," vindicating all of us who've faced the $15 challenge. I was pretty much smitten at that point, Zagat rating notwithstanding, and over the course of the night, she would make fun of her bandmates, her "guest list friends," and herself.

Aimee started out by herself on acoustic guitar with a new song that she warned us was not yet fully written; I have to agree with her, though she had a cool refrain on her hands. From there, her bass player and pianist joined her, and they would duck in and out as needed for the rest of the evening.

I can't complain about her song selection--to my surprise, she didn't lean on her last two albums, as you might expect from a typical promotional show. Instead, she dipped again and again into the back catalog. I was delighted with the different treatment for "Lost in Space;" instead of the distinctive organ intro, the song began with the piano and bass before the guitar came in. But the next song was the showstopper of the night: "It's Not Safe," solo acoustic guitar, with more than a passing node to Joni Mitchell and far removed from the frothy pop you'll find on I'm With Stupid.

Aimee sat down at the piano for the next tune, with the disclaimer that she couldn't really play the instrument but wanted to prove that she, too, could write a song on it, just like Fiona Apple. She was right--she's not very good at piano, but she gave us a simple upbeat structure adorned with sassy lyrics, something along the lines of a lover calling her a bitch when she left him. When she requested help from her bandmate Jaime, he pulled up a chair to the other of the piano and sprinkled in a gorgeous, sparkling riff.

Watching them together, I finally understood what Aimee does best. She has an undeniable gift for killer hooks, natural melodies, and indelible characters, and she incorporates them in what are, at the core, basic, straightforward songs that other musicians--be it Jon Brion, Elvis Costello, Bernard Butler, or any number of major talents--can't help but contribute to and build upon. Most of us don't get to see that exchange between artists, but at Largo, I was again allowed to watch this process take place right in front of my eyes.

Though her onstage manner was far from improvisational, Aimee had her own ideas for her catalog. For instance, she paid tribute to Jon Brion's jury-rigged percussion on "Frankenstein" with her own arsenal of unusual instruments and a corral of comedian/writer friends. I'd even go so far as saying she flew without a safety net on her new songs, especially the Fiona Apple-inspired number, and as is often the case, she reserved the encore for audience requests (subject to her veto).

I always temper my expectations for performers at Largo who aren't Jon Brion, but it was impossible to not think of him during the show, especially since Aimee's setlist favored the albums with which he's most closely associated. Truthfully, I didn't expect to hear the "Born to Run" glockenspiel on "I've Had It," and Paul and Jaime's background vocals were nothing to complain about, but a girl can fantasize about the two of them eventually working together again.

Paul Bryan opened, and he should be familiar to anyone who's seen Aimee on tour for her last couple of albums. He plays bass in her band, and quite honestly, he's adorable. As it turns out, he's a singer/songwriter too, and he even did a song he wrote for Bettye LaVette but that didn't make the cut. He has a fine voice, but on the whole, his music wasn't too distinctive.

See also:
» you're my favorite faith healer
» top 5 Largo memories
» green typewriters
» the Book of Brion 2 has landed

you're my favorite faith healer

I'm like 99% done moving! And I have high-speed Internet at home! And I got a new laptop! Woot! More on that later, let's file the concert report first.

Aimee Mann, the Fillmore, August 12, 2005: Over the course of the last couple of years, I've come to love Aimee Mann. I think she's one of the best lyricists working today, and she consistently crafts great albums, not just individual songs. I'd be lying if I said that my Jon Brion thing hasn't contributed to my appreciation, but I look forward to Aimee's releases, regardless of whose name shows up in the liner notes. It also helps that she's playing the Fillmore again, after favoring venues such as the Mountain Winery in Saratoga. It's pretty much a no-brainer when she's in town.

Kathleen Edwards opened, and she was quite lovely. Her voice was really pretty, and she (like most people who play the Fillmore) seemed suitably honored to be gracing the stage of the hallowed hall. She was joined by a guy on an electric guitar, while she stuck with the acoustic; he also contributed harmonies. Unfortunately, I can't remember his name, but they seemed to be a good fit. She's very much a singer/songwriter, with the acoustic guitar, the sensitive songs, and the stories, but I've always enjoyed them more than, say, flash-in-the-pan ingenues.

Aimee used to say that she was horrible at stage banter, but the times I've seen her, she's always managed to keep us entertained. Granted, I've never followed her from show to show, so I don't know how her conversations with the audience vary, but for a one-shot deal, she conveyed great enthusiasm and enjoyment to the crowd.

Tonight, Aimee was in a great mood: chatting up the crowd, showing off her new tattoo, and raving about some kickboxing gym she found in the Mission. I thought the tattoo might be fake at first, but you could tell that her skin was raised from the needle injecting the ink. It was an image of an anchor, a tribute to her sailor father, she said.

She did the new album The Forgotten Arm pretty much in sequential order, narrating the story of the two lovers and their doomed relationship along the way. She sprinkled in a bunch of her oldies but goodies, such as numerous selections from the blockbuster Magnolia years, but she always returned to the story of the boxer and his girl and their highs and lows.

I thought she chose a fine selection from her back catalog, including "Save Me," "Sugarcoated," "One," "It's Not," and "Humpty Dumpty." I think the band did two encores in all. The first was noted on the setlist, but for the second, they took requests from the audience and, in the case of "Pavlov's Bell," Kathleen Edwards. Someone requested "The Scientist," but fortunately, no one in the band knew the song, and Aimee could barely remember it. Fortunately, she kept her promise to close with "Deathly," still my favorite of her songs.

Then there was the crowd. Fortunately, Trish joined me this evening, but not before two women who obviously did not see a lot of shows had "befriended" me and talked my ear off. They were nice enough, but they were getting progressively drunker and talking loudly through much of the opening and Aimee's set. They finally left about halfway through Aimee's set, though they claimed to be such a big fan of hers.

On the other side of the stage, there was some guy jumping up and down and waving frantically throughout the beginning of the show. Maybe a third of the way into her set, Aimee said something to him, and he calmed down a little. Neither of them took away from my enjoyment of the show--which was great, in so many ways--but they were somewhat distracting at first.

Way too late, I checked Aimee's Web site and saw that she played two more shows in the Bay Area: a free gig at Amoeba and something at the Robert Mondavi Center in Sonoma. You know, I was in Amoeba just last week and saw Aimee's album with an "in-store" sticker, but I didn't see any other notice of her appearance. As for Mondavi, I probably could've made it today, though it would've been a stretch to squeeze it in among today's activities. Grrrr, I gotta try harder.