all possibilities

This may be a first for me: The same night Badly Drawn Boy was scheduled to play upstairs at the Swedish American Hall, the honest-to-goodness Swedish Society held a meeting downstairs. Though we didn't have as many yummy snacks as the Swedes, I have no doubt Damon's gig matched them in December cheer.

Badly Drawn Boy, Swedish American Hall, December 14, 2010: I don't take recommendations lightly, and in fact, I refrain from making them except under specific circumstances--typically, after we've been locked in a room for weeks on end, I've noted every song you've ever sung or hummed to yourself, and I've issued major caveats in terms of which tune you might like and which ones to avoid. By the time I dredge up a name, it's more a warning than a tip, regardless of how much I love the artist.

Case in point: Badly Drawn Boy. I unequivocally love the guy, but there's always a question as to which Damon Gough will show up at any given concert. Will he be petulant, exultant, or cocky? And behind those faces, will he reveal the fanboy defending his devotion to Bruce Springsteen, the proud father who passes around pictures of his children to the audience, or the barfly who happens to be holding the microphone? There's only one way to find out: See him for yourself.

You could probably be forgiven for pigeonholing Damon based on his gruff appearance and confident sound bites, but take the time to listen, and his classic songwriting chops jump out. In a solo setting, those basics pop even more, notably his lovely voice and his way with melodies. "The Shining" is one for the ages, and it lived up to its legend this evening, but he changed up several tracks without a backing band behind him. For example, "Once Around the Block" benefited from his use of loopers, while on a lo-fi tip, we tried to help, as requested, with a whistling outro on "You Were Right."



Damon wasn't entirely on his own, however. A few friends popped in, including Mike on electric guitar, Steve on piano, and the opener Justin Jones on tambourine. Steve almost stole the show with an old routine in which he made a grand gesture of holding up an index finger for all the audience to see, then used it to accompany Damon on "Magic in the Air." Less dramatically, he appeared to be using more than a single digit to fill out the rest of the song, but who cares when it sounds that good? Justin had a harder time keeping a straight face, but his grins and giggles spoke for all of us.



Damon has never been shy about chatting it up between songs, and he didn't hold back tonight. Among the more inspired conversational threads was an extended riff on the audience handbook and its lessons on when we're allowed and/or encouraged to cheer, clap, and engage with the performer. We eventually picked up on the hints, though Damon continued to offer guidance when the instructions escaped us.

The solo setting also allowed Damon some leeway in his choice of covers, including Richie Havens' "I Can't Make It Anymore" early in the set and the standby "Like a Virgin" intro for the always fantastic "Silent Sigh." (Madonna also came up in Damon's own lyrics for "You Were Right.") But there's no doubt Damon saved the best for last when he cited a song from 1983 as a major influence on his life, explained his use of backing vocal tracks, then serenaded us with "Thunder Road." In the course of the performance, he shook hands with everyone in the front row of the audience before settling down in a chair to simply belt it out. If that isn't a sign of a man of the people, I don't know what is, and it's precisely this mix of humility and brashness that makes the best Badly Drawn Boy gigs so memorable.



Justin Jones opened up the show, and he held his own against such a personality as Badly Drawn Boy. As a songwriter and performer, Justin is entirely in my wheelhouse with stark, emotional songs and deep delivery, leavened by sardonic asides and banter. I've seen his name show up on my local concert calendar now and again, and I plan to investigate further when he returns to town.

See also:
» a strong heart will prevail
» come see what we all talk about
» pre-easily fooled
» tell me that you've heard every sound there is

pre-easily fooled

Once upon a time, my concert reports lived in little notebooks (the print variety), tiny tomes I happened to find a little while ago while tidying the house. The earliest entries are pretty bare; I simply went through my ticket stubs and jotted down any recollections I could muster. But I must've started taking it more seriously around 2003, because that's when the dispatches filled out a bit.

They're not worth reprinting here, but I figured I'd excerpt some of the better passages. Unfortunately, I can't recall the context of some of these comments, so what you see is what you get. Anyway, some highlights from my gig history:

Badly Drawn Boy, Bimbo's 365 Club, November 16, 2000: Three hours of music, including Bruce and Journey covers; cocktail waitresses bringing orders onstage; almost got brained by Damon's mic!; Damon dancing on tables and kicking Bruce detractors--wow!

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, the Fillmore, March 12, 2001: Steve's dad introduced the band as "the Jinx."

Wilco, Town Hall, Sept. 28, 2001: I thought that guy wanted to slap me. [Ed.: Who? What? Why? I have no idea.]

Guided by Voices, Bimbo's 365 Club, August 20, 2003: Bob Pollard: "We're the birdmen of alcohol." [Ed.: That quote alone is worth digging through the notebooks.]

Wilco/Sonic Youth, Summerstage, June 27, 2003: Met Roy and Kurt, two Sonic Youth fans who had taken the bus all the way from Peoria to see their favorite band--very sweet kids.

Beulah, Great American Music Hall, Nov. 6, 2003: The band asked for requests for the encore, then forced whomever yelled the title to come up and play an instrument onstage for that song. I think my favorite participant that night was a guy in a tie, a button-down shirt, and khakis. Miles referred to him as "the accountant."

Rufus Wainwright, the Warfield, December 19, 2003: We were joined by a youngish guy who claimed to be gay but was married to a French woman who needed a green card. He also wore pearls à la Lisa Simpson. He had a package and a message that he wanted to get to Rufus. Long story short: He succeeded. Anyway, he was very funny, with enough drama for a week's worth of All My Children.

More random tidbits
--Shows where I saw Scott Kannberg (Pavement; Preston School of Industry) in the audience: Flaming Lips, Wilco, British Sea Power
--Shows where I fell asleep or very nearly dozed off: Sigur Ros (at the Warfield, not the Fillmore), Godspeed You Black Emperor, Broadcast

Starspotting
--Beth Orton, Ione Skye (Death in Vegas, the Troubador)
--Billy Connolly, Kelly Macdonald (Travis, the Troubador)
--Amanda Decadenet, a.k.a. ex-wife of Duran Duran's John Taylor; I know no one cares, but it was a big deal to us (Supergrass, Bimbo's 365 Club)
--Keri Russell (Wilco, Roseland)
--Hanson, Claudia Mason (one of my favorite '90s supermodels), Bob Odenkirk (Wilco, El Rey)
--Pete Yorn, E from the eels (Wilco, John Anson Ford Amphitheatre)

tell me that you've heard every sound there is

I've had the great pleasure to act as a Largo sherpa, if you will, for many friends over the years, but these past few months have yielded a bumper crop of trusting souls. Tonight, Rob and Lauren were the latest to subject themselves to the debriefing that accompanies that initial step known as the First Largo Visit, Usually to See Jon Brion. Who's next?

Jon Brion, Largo, March 30, 2007: There's a saying: You're only as good as your last record/book/haircut/etc. I'm not sure I believe in the statement to begin with, but it definitely doesn't hold true when it comes to Jon Brion's shows. Though Jon's Chicago shows were--in a word--stunning, you'd be a fool to assume that they held any indications of what to expect when Jon brought the show back to Los Angeles. And as it turned out, your assumption would be right.

On the heels of Flanagan's intro, Jon stumbled onstage, already sporting an acoustic guitar. Despite his choice of accessories, he was far from ready and definitely didn't have set plans, as we soon discovered. He gave it a shot anyway, with a short interlude that was half a tuning exercise and half a joke. The piano piece that followed started out just as amorphously, but it coalesced into something more tangible, with a resonant chord progression and light loops. I whispered to Evonne that it reminded me of Magnolia, while she cited I Heart Huckabees as her main touchstone.

Jon continued the piano improv until something in the music reminded him of the Charlie's Angels theme, which turned out to be the spark for one of his patented multisong medleys--you know, that stream-of-consciousness progression of tunes both classical and contemporary, frivolous and serious, interrupted by only thunderous claps of piano as Jon transitioned between selections. The parade didn't stop, but it eventually led into "Trouble." I can't imagine that I'll ever hear Jon squeeze as much pathos out of the song as he did in January, but tonight's version bore similarly withering qualities.

Jon took a little while to decide on his next direction, and even after he situated himself behind the drum kit, the song didn't take hold right away. He took his sweet old time working out the beat before leaving it alone to take the guitar. I'm pretty sure it was Jon's own song, which may or may not be called "Croatia"--I recognize it only because it always reminds me of Fleetwood Mac, then turns out not to be.

"Moonage Daydream" came in as a request and went out in Sun Records style, with tons of slapback and maybe a touch of Les Paul. Jon next build up a song I've heard at Largo before, but I can't figure out what it is. Regardless, it's turbulent, towering anthem, and it's a lot of fun.

Jon sat back down at the piano and donned a harmonica; it quickly became apparent that "Knock Yourself Out" was next, but Jon let the celeste butter up the crowd before the vocals kicked in. Because Jon was turned toward the celeste, he sang indirectly into the mic, sort of out of the side of his mouth and almost off the PA. There's something about the combination of that melody and the sound of the celeste that just screams charm. If Largo didn't keep its lights so low, we might've seen smiles all around the room.

At this point, Jon may have confessed that he had no idea what he was doing, so the requests were getting lots of play. "Here We Go" got a nice reaction out of Rob and Lauren, who recognized it from the Largo Web site; of course, it always gets a reaction out of me, but we've been through that many times already.

Jon dropped in a dozen or more Beatles riffs into "Tomorrow Never Knows," sort of like what he did with Benmont Tench and Greg Leisz back in November. As he ended the song, he confessed to visions of Cirque du Soleil's "Love" playing in his mind. He had more (negative) words about the Las Vegas production and reflected on the last 10 years he's spent creating Beatles mashups live onstage (sound familiar?).

Jon gave "Pachelbel's Canon" its due, but the next few songs were only snippets as he tested out requests. "Up the Junction" gave us the most amusing exchange. The gentleman in the back had yelled out for it more than once, but Jon wouldn't do it since he didn't know the words. Still, he played the general tune and even threw in a line or two from memory. When the requester offered to supply the words and lead the crowd, Jon batted him down more than once. Clearly, we weren't hearing the song tonight, but at least we enjoyed a good laugh.

Jon basked in a long lull filled with both good and bad requests before he gave in to the lure of "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright" on bass guitar. Strangely, he couldn't remember the lyrics, though he trots out the song often these days. "Strings That Tie to You" came next, and it should be noted that though Jon did both songs in Chicago, neither got the same treatment they did in the Midwest.

The first guest called to the stage this night was Benmont Tench, Largo's greatest team player. For their inaugural tune, Benmont humored Jon's exercise in prog; from there on, they tackled more straightfoward titles, including a very weak audience singalong on "Femme Fatale."

Next was Sara Watkins, who kicked off her contribution to the night with an old Kinks song. As I recall, Benmont's playing was especially gorgeous here--not that it's ever less than stellar. She moved to leave the stage after this song, but Jon forced her to stay, and with Benmont, they set about calling the shots. I think it was on "In Tall Buildings" when it seemed that Jon might leave the entire show to Sara and Benmont as he drank down his Guinness, but he eventually graced the song with a touch of bass guitar.

Not long after, they conscripted Sean Watkins for their merry band and a Gillian Welch cover. As they lingered over their next song selection, Flanagan took to the PA to command, "Benmont, play the shit out of that piano." Benmont picked up on the suggestion--and ran with it, slamming out "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling." Stationed in the DJ booth, Flanagan commandeered the mic again, this time adding vocals to the song. The artists onstage sort of helped out with the chorus, though it sounded a lot like that Irish drinking song game from Whose Line Is It Anyway. Decorum vaguely returned with the next few songs; the first two featured Sara on vocals before she left the stage for the evening, and Jon resumed the reigns for "Only Love Will Break Your Heart" with Benmont and Sean.

Full disclosure: I spied Badly Drawn Boy across the street from Largo before the show, and we saw him get seated. But Damon being Damon, there was no guarantee he'd get off his ass and take to the stage. My vanity, however, wanted to believe that the short chat I had with him in Chicago might've jogged his memory or, at least, made him pick up the phone to talk to his old friend. Thus, my ego got a tiny massage when Jon convinced Damon to join them, but the feeling was nothing compared to the euphoria of watching one of my Largo fantasies play out.

I sort of feel like the girl who cried wolf; I've seen so many "dream" shows at Largo (with Neil Finn, Glenn Kotche, Nels Cline, Michel Gondry, Kanye West, to name a few) that it might seem like I'm far too easily impressed. I won't deny that charge, but in my defense, I'll say that the odds happen to work in my favor. Considering that many musicians I love have connections to Largo, it would be more puzzling if they didn't show up from time to time.

Anyway, enough rationalization, more Badly Drawn Boy: I thought I had a decent grasp on Damon's stage persona. I've seen him cocky, sweet, sentimental, insulted, bratty, and genuinely flattered. Tonight, though, he displayed another facet altogether. Granted, he was incredibly drunk, but he was also wickedly hilarious.

After he finally acquiesced to Jon's invitation, Damon strapped on the acoustic guitar and almost immediately managed to insult everyone onstage. For example, though he and Jon hugged warmly, Damon confessed to a lie. Damon had told someone outside that he had played with Jon 10 times or more, but in truth, it was more like 2 times--it just felt like 10 because Jon went on for so long. Later, when Damon started on a song that he hadn't revealed to anyone (though it was readily apparent he was building up to "Donna and Blitzen"), he ordered Benmont to keep up with him. The story behind "Donna and Blitzen" was hilarious as well; I can't do it justice, but I'll mention that it involved a conversation with Santa and Damon on the first Christmas Eve ever in 1969. On at least one occasion, Damon referred to Santa as the "fat fuck in the red suit," while Santa preferred to use Damon's nickname ("Damo") when they were together.

In the end, the song featured Damon and Sean on acoustic guitar, Benmont on piano, and Jon on drums, after which Damon left the stage--to have another drink, if Jon was to be believed. For the last song of the night, Jon made an executive decision and logged his own request: barrelhouse piano from Benmont.

The maestro went to town, and his energy proved hard to resist. After watching on, Jon had a change of heart. He sidled up next to Benmont, cleared some space for himself on the bench, and threw himself at the keys. The two of them pummeled the piano, taking to their feet and bobbing their heads when they couldn't sit still anymore. Benmont momentarily ducked out and ceded the bench to Jon, only to swoop back in on the other side. Not only had Jon and Benmont done it again--that is, completely confound and astound us--they had done so in a way I've never witnessed before.

Only at Largo. Only at Largo.

Setlist:
--Smoke on the Water
--piano noodling
--piano megamedley (Charlie's Angels theme/Keystone Cops theme/Electric Avenue/Incense & Peppermint/Rhapsody in Blue/etc.)
--Trouble
--Croatia
--Moonage Daydream
--??? ["It's high time...with you/What I been through.../When you left me"]
--Knock Yourself Out
--Here We Go
--Tomorrow Never Knows [w/ numerous more Beatles riffs]
--Pachelbel's Canon
--lull [Love Will Keep Us Together, Up the Junction, Somewhere Over the Rainbow]
--Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
--Strings That Tie to You
--Chris Squire prog exercise*
--You Better Go Now* [title?]
--Walk On By*
--Femme Fatale*
--I Go to Sleep**
--In Tall Buildings**
--And Your Bird Can Sing**
--Caleb Meyer***
--When Irish Eyes Are Smiling*** [Flanagan lead vocals]
--Tennessee Waltz*** [Sara lead vocals]
--Why Can't He Be You*** [Sara lead vocals]
--Only Love Can Break Your Heart*** [Jon lead vocals]
--Donna and Blitzen ****
--Benmont (and Jon) barrelhouse piano

* = with Benmont Tench
** = with Sara Watkins and Benmont
*** = with Sara and Sean Watkins and Benmont
**** = with Damon Gough, Sean, and Benmont

See also:
» like a dream in the night
» we could steal time, just for one day
» i remember finding out about you
» come see what we all talk about

come see what we all talk about

If you were to ask for my opinion of Badly Drawn Boy, I wouldn't hesitate to tell you that I'm utterly enamored of the guy and his music. But at the same time, I'll admit that he may not be your cup of tea, which is exactly how I presented this show to the gang in Chicago. Bless their hearts for taking up the offer, despite the caveats.

Badly Drawn Boy, the Metro, March 10, 2007: By all measures, we shouldn't have made this gig. We didn't know when doors opened, we left the house late, we didn't buy tickets ahead of time, and--most important--we didn't know the show was sold out! Despite these odds, we managed to locate the exact number of tickets needed and buy them at face value or, in Kris's case, for free. The only sacrifice: we missed a couple of songs in Damon's set before we were comfortably situated.

Still, I was nervous about this gig. When I last saw Damon in San Francisco back in October, he put on a less than satisfactory show, and recent reports indicate that he's not exactly turning that frown upside-down. As a longtime fan, I expect his antics, but it's not something I hope for when I'm making the case for Damon with BDB newbies.

My fears turned out to be unfounded--Damon and his band turned in a wonderful, lively show. He betrayed no signs of petulance or self-pitying, as he had in San Francisco. Instead, he seemed surprised by the crowd's genuine enthusiasm; hell, I was too! At one point, he confessed that it was the first time in the tour that he had enjoyed every minute of the performance.

As you might guess, Damon and co. favored the most recent album, Born in the UK, though he apologetically used lyric sheets for the new titles. I don't think anyone minded, especially since he was so earnest and open with a lot of the song explanations. Also, he didn't seem to need any help with the back catalog, even the b-sides.

Ordinarily, my favorite part of the night would be Damon's solo acoustic turn in the middle of the show, especially when it includes the eternally sublime "The Shining." But this evening, the crowd's energy demanded the participation of the whole band, and though I'd never call them tight, they add a solid presence to Damon's deceptively slamming tunes.

"Like a Virgin" was not a surprise for me, but I'll take anything that leads into "Silent Sigh." Instead, the twist came in Damon's response to the Metro's 10:15 curfew. Damon, who's been known to play for three hours, claimed that the band had another 10 songs they wanted to get to. As a consolation, he offered a tune that he said they had never done before: a completely unironic "Don't Stop Believing" that had fists pumping, voices raised, and heads bobbing all over the room. As the song played, Damon worked the front row, shaking hands and making friends with fans and staff alike--always a man of the people.

After the show, we went out for dinner down the street, and on our way back to the car, we peeked into the Gingerman (the bar next door to the Metro), where Kris had seen Damon and a band member before the gig. Lo and behold, the afterparty was starting to take off in the room. We squeezed in just long enough for me to ask Damon if he planned to drop in on Jon Brion's show the next day. Alas, their reunion will have to wait a little while longer, since Damon and the band were scheduled to play Minneapolis the next day, but like many other people in Chicago this particular weekend, he seemed truly regretful to have missed Jon.

See also:
» a strong heart will prevail

a strong heart will prevail

Whoa, I didn't intend to take so long with this concert report, but the last entry deserved some more time on the marquee anyway.

Badly Drawn Boy, Great American Music Hall, October 16, 2006: Quite simply, I love Badly Drawn Boy. His show at Bimbo's in 2000 on his first tour of the United States remains one of my favorites of all time, and I go back to The Hour of Bewilderbeast repeatedly. Between then and now, there've been a few other funny stories regarding Damon, and of course, the collaboration with Jon Brion helped cement both of their reputations in my book. Finally, I get to blog about him.

Before the show began, I overheard a few people around me discussing the last Badly Drawn Boy gig in San Francisco, the details of which I'd totally forgotten. That time, he had broken up the show into two sections: one half for the new stuff, one half for the hits, with a break in between. As I recall, he had a couple of string players, and his manager handed out "pretty girl passes" to (surprise surprise) pretty girls in the audience. These are among the reasons I love him, though friends haven't been found him as charming.

Well, we certainly saw his pricklier side at the show. Near the beginning, he told the chatterers to shut up, and as the show progressed, he took out some of his frustrations on a harmonica holder that didn't quite fit. His mood reached its nadir when he called a short intermission, lamenting his latest single's low debut on the U.K. charts. Over here, we're inured from those concerns, though I can see how his former (?) cockiness might take a beating from the diminishing commercial returns. Sure, he's not Coldplay, but like many of his U.S. fans, I'm just glad that he's back in the States doing what he does best. I should say, though, that his occasional surliness isn't a surprise, but as it was happening, I wasn't sure we'd see the playfulness that endeared him to me in the first place.

But that's not to say it was all gloom and doom. I loved the addition of a small xylophone to the band's repertoire. Since I was standing nearly exactly in front of it, I could hear it quite well, but I'm not sure it came through to the rest of the crowd. And once Damon's mood lifted, we saw some of the goofiness return. After coming back to the stage, Damon and the guitarist did a gorgeous, spare song that he claimed had never been done onstage (I can't remember it now). Later, Damon took the mic off the stand to serenade and greet the audience. I'm glad to report that Julie's was the first hand he kissed!

As much as I love him, I have to admit he seemed to run hot and cold at this show. Will I be back? Of course I will, but for maybe the first time, I can admit that maybe my naysaying friends have a point.