scraping paper to document

I always feel bad when I miss Noise Pop, partly because it's a local tradition worth supporting and partly because the festival attracts so many amazing bands, often before they catch on with the general public. In the last several years, my attendance has been spotty--often due to my goofy travel schedule--so I was glad to squeeze in one gig this year: Ben Gibbard's solo appearance at the Great American Music Hall.

Ben Gibbard, Great American Music Hall, February 28, 2011: Full disclosure--my tickets probably could've gone to a more deserving fan. I've registered my Death Cab demerits previously, but Ben Gibbard has sealed his spot in my good graces, thanks to one bulletproof association and another surprising collaboration. Besides, I'm partial to the solo frontman routine, and I know a rare outing when I see it.

Even if I wanted to, I can't tell you what songs Ben played; besides, I'm sure they're listed on a forum somewhere. He tried out a handful of songs from the forthcoming Death Cab album, but seeing as I don't know the band's old tunes, I can't tell you much about the new ones either. As an impartial listener, my main takeaway from this show was discovering Ben's gift with melody and his thoughtful, expressive lyrics.

Ben heralded one of the more memorable segments of the evening when he put away the single guitar and sat down at the baby grand piano for several songs. The big hit "Soul Meets Body" was less effective in this setting, but the Buck Owen cover was an inspired choice, even if the fans were requesting more questionable titles. Overall, the rapport between Ben and the crowd was funny, sweet, and easygoing, and it was one of the highlights of the show. Surprisingly, male voices dominated the conversation, including the flat-out declarations of love. Then again, this is San Francisco.

The absolute golden moment of the show--for me, at least--came as a complete surprise. Yes, I saw Bob Mould come in, but I figured he was merely circulating among the festival as a local resident. Wrong! Instead, Ben offered a giddy introduction, brought Bob to the stage, handed over his guitar, and dueted on "If I Can't Change Your Mind."

I've gushed and cooed extensively over Bob Mould in this blog, and I was glad to see Ben's reaction mirror those emotions. I vaguely wondered how many people in the room recognized the musical legend joining Ben, but those apprehensions evaporated as soon as the song started. I suppressed the urge to yell out for "See a Little Light" upon the conclusion of their single song, but Ben's full fanboy grin, unabashed air drumming, and unadulterated admiration said it all.

Zach Rogue opened the show, joined by Jimmy LaValle from the Album Leaf for a few songs. Clearly, I enjoy a well-chosen cover version, but Zach's selection of Buddy Holly's "Everyday" was more illuminating than most. Following that tune, it was impossible not to hear the influence on Zach's singing and songwriting--not a bad beacon at all.



See also:
» i see my light come shining
» we can be us
» between two worlds
» your favorite thing

between two worlds

I dream of this kind of concert bill: one that brings together artists who've never before been mentioned in the same breath--say, Jay Farrar and Ben Gibbard--and that won't likely be duplicated any time soon. Novelty factor aside, there's another advantage to seeing a major musician's side projects: It'll up your insufferable superfan cred in no time flat. Take it from me!

Jay Farrar and Ben Gibbard, Bimbo's 365 Club, October 24, 2009: Aside from some prominent exceptions, I try to go to shows with a blank slate, shut off from whatever gossip, PR spin, or blogger chatter might be circulating. But even by those standards, I approached this gig with nary an agenda. I hadn't heard a note of Jay and Ben's collaboration, I had no idea of what format the show would take, I couldn't guess as to whether they'd do any of their own material, and I hadn't a clue whether they'd be joined by supporting players.

Truth be told, it wasn't so difficult to maintain radio silence, considering I'm hardly a devoted Son Volt or Death Cab for Cutie fan. Don't get me wrong--I like both of them fine, and I've seen Jay and Ben (separately) in concert before, in sort of one-off appearances. However, I'm much more familiar with the people they've worked with and played beside, rather than with their main gigs. Furthermore, I've never read Jack Kerouac (admits the English major).

I don't recommend that everyone adopt this willful ignorance, but believe it or not, it keeps me sane. Besides, most of those questions were answered soon enough. Joining Jay and Ben were Mark Spencer on pedal steel, guitar, and keyboards; Jon Wurster on drums; and Nick Harmer on bass. Though I didn't keep track of vocal turns, Jay and Ben seemed about even in their share of mic time, and each took to the piano once or twice. As it turned out, they did stick to the Jack Kerouac-inspired material, so the kids in line hoping for Death Cab or Postal Service songs were out of luck. Full disclosure: My half-joking wish for "Tear-Stained Eye" didn't pan out either.

Preferences aside, there was some question in my mind about which group of fans would be more likely to stage an uprising and demand their money back before the end of the night: Son Volt followers, so often set in their musical ways, or the Death Cab for Cutie tribe, especially those who caught on after the group went mainstream. Of course, fans of splinter groups are always self-selecting; almost by definition, your interest exceeds that of the average listener. Still, my guess is it was more of a stretch for Death Cab fans, particularly with the twangier tunes. To their credit, the pitchforks and torches were kept in check, no matter who was singing.

I extend my kudos to Ben Gibbard as well. This marks the second time I've watched Ben apart from his primary band, and he's won me over on both occasions. Back in October 2007, I got to see him in a rare, unadorned light, but at Bimbo's, he took the opposite tack with a rootsier, more rocking sound. Clearly, Ben is willing to step outside of his comfort zone, to impressive effect.

Ben and Jay showed nothing but respect and consideration for each other, but if I had to choose, I'd say Jay emerged as the leader of the group. For example, Jay split the lead guitar duties with Mark Spencer, and more prominently, the rest of the band ceded the stage to Jay and Mark for two songs. In terms of the music, the project aligns more closely with the sound that Jay's known for than what we'd previously heard from Ben.

Ultimately, Jay's voice sounded amazing (as usual), his gratifyingly world-weary tone complementing the subject matter--especially those images of empty spaces and indifferent towns--beautifully. Moreover, Jay looked like he was having fun, peeking out of his notoriously closed shell more than you might expect. There was, for example, the matter of his capo flying off the guitar after the band's first song and incidentally landing directly in front of us. He accepted its return with a wide grin, an expression he wore for much of the night.



Jay revealed they'd been a group for all of a week, and he had plenty of kind words for San Francisco in general. I have only one other show to compare it to, so I'll leave it to longtime Jay watchers to confirm or deny whether this is typical behavior on his part. But it sure makes me want to hit Son Volt's show at the Fillmore in December.

As of this writing, the tour is done, and it's anyone's guess as to whether Jay and Ben will reconvene for more shows. Thus, you can disregard this small aside to a night of overall cool tunes, but I'll lodge the observation anyway: For all their cooperation and deference to one another, I didn't get the feeling that Jay and Ben were a band, as opposed to a couple of guys who happened to work together. It's a minor issue, and I'd love to stand corrected, but that was the view from stage right.

John Roderick of the Long Winters opened the show. I'd seen his band once before, many moons ago; if I'm not mistaken, they played with the Decemberists at the Great American Music Hall. I'm happy to report that his goofy energy remained intact, as evidenced by the pitcher of hot water he brought onstage. It was soon enriched with a shot of Theraflu provided by an audience member whom I like to think was a well-stocked fan and not merely a plant. Regardless, his work here was done, and the medication allowed John to try out a bunch of songs, including a tune about not moving to Portland.

See also:
» i see my light come shining
» we can be us
» worn-out wood and familiar songs

we can be us

Sign No. 4,877 You've Found Your People: After (originally) two friends agree to fly across the country to hang out for a weekend, see a free festival, and generally have fun, they easily acquiesce to a less-than-24-hour detour that takes them to another city, where another traveling pal is waiting. No sweat.

Jon Brion, Largo, October 6, 2007: For the past few months, my Wilco and Jon Brion schedules have complemented each other beautifully, allowing me to scurry away to see one party at a time. Jon took July, while Wilco gave me lots to look forward to in June and August. Technically, they both crowded May and September, but I wasn't exactly complaining. The October surprise threw me for a small loop, but I think we hit a happy medium.

Opening tonight was Todd Carlin, sometimes known as the Naked Trucker or even as David "Gruber" Allen, his real name. Calling himself a "warm-up artist," he expounded on some of the same topics he covered the last time I saw him, but he added a hilarious new section of haikus. I won't try to get across any of them, except to say that "jump on the 405" became our catchphrase for the next 24 hours.

Jon launched with "Take Five," which I believe was inspired by a reference to Dave Brubeck in Todd Carlin's act. Jon, however, sort of threw everything but the kitchen sink at it, a motif that carried through to his next number, "Same Thing." Oddly, this normally resilient song sounded a bit discordant, and not in a good way. I think there were one too many elements at play during this outing; when Jon subtracted one of the numerous rhythm tracks he had piled on, the tune finally sounded right again.

He stayed at the piano for the Eternal Sunshine theme, then switched to electric guitar for "Meaningless," a request from an audience member who turned out to be quite persistent, though highly predictable. I believe this same audience member supplied the call for "Didn't Think It Would Turn Out Bad." Jon built it through layers and was applying a variety of guitar styles (starting with big power chords, then wending his way to fuzzy distortion) when his strap broke before he could finish out the song.

Switching gears, he went into one of his most straightforward numbers, "Excuse to Cry." "Oh Susanna" served as a prelude to "Knock Yourself Out," thus satisfying yet another title thrown out by the loud requester (who had now grown annoying). Then again, some people also believe that given an infinite number of monkeys typing away, one is bound to produce Hamlet.

At this point, Jon definitely started asking for requests. Of all the improbable numbers thrown at him, he took up one of the least likely: the Star Trek theme, complete with lyrics (who knew there were any?!?). Armed with only the tiny Korg and his vocoder, he launched right into that familiar theme, and though the vocoder obscured most of the lyrics, he clearly knew the lines, even if we couldn't tell exactly what they were.

The next trio of songs were (I think) all unreleased tracks from Jon's catalog. "The Way It Went" might be the only one with a confirmed title, but the first song was one he's done several times now, and it's an epic, with an amazing build. It's hard to characterize, except to say it might take a cue from Bowie's late-'70s output. The last song made its debut only a few months ago, I believe. At the time, I thought it might be a Todd Rungren number, as it bore some resemblance to the spate of Todd's tunes Jon had done the night before. At this point, though, I'd be surprised if it turned out to be anything other than his own.

When Jon introduced the night's guest appearance, he actually managed to answer the other question running through our minds: What was John Krasinski doing at Largo? He was accompanying his good friend Ben Gibbard, of course, who hopped to the stage to join Jon.

I've never been a fan of Death Cab for Cutie, but I found Ben to be a charming addition to the Largo stable. Oddly, though I don't particularly care for his band, I have to admit that Ben has some great tastes in music, an idea that first occurred to me when I heard the band cover Julian Cope. The streak continued with Jon and Ben's first cover of the evening, a song that I always associate with Tracey Ullman (remember how Paul McCartney was in the video?!) but that Ben rightfully credited to its writer: the late, great Kirsty MacColl. For the Everly Brothers tune, Jon turned the piano mic to the front of the stage, picked up the celeste, planted it on his lap, and facing the audience, served up harmonies to Ben's lead. Finally, they went with one of Ben's own, which he was supposed to record to Jon at some point, though those plans fell far by the wayside.

With Ben gone, Jon asked for more requests and tore into one of my favorite covers, "Heroes." The reemergence of this tune in Jon's shows has been one of my favorite developments of the last year or so. I didn't bother trying to clock it, but even if that instrumental build had gone on for an hour, I don't think I'd mind. I recall that in previous performances, Jon's been playing out the song on piano on keyboard, but he let the guitar do the talking tonight, all the way to the very end.

For the last song of the first set, Jon asked for covers once again and readied his guitar for the Les Paul-style treatment. As he started playing and working through the foundation of the song, my mind latched on to something about the tune that sounded intensely familiar, though I couldn't quite place it. Heidi, however, was grinning uncontrollably. By the time Mike cruised by to fill us in on the title of the mystery tune, Heidi had already spilled the beans, and I was singing along to the chorus. It turned out to be "Nowhere Man"--my request, which Jon had greeted with a slight guffaw when I had shouted it out. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I would've figured it out without my friends, so I'm glad I was able to enjoy in full something I always wanted, even if not in exactly the style I've always envisioned.

The second set started off with two discrete piano pieces: one in the ragtime style, the other a cooler, more abstract treatment. (This is where a youth misspent on British haircut bands really bites me on the ass.) Jon credited Ellington for the latter, but beats me exactly what song it might've been.

"Flight of the Bumblebee" popped up as a request, and since it seemed to go over so well earlier, Jon used nothing more than the vocoder to--literally--sing the tune. I think he threw in part of the Lone Ranger theme, as well.

Jon treated the next sequence of songs in a fairly traditional manner, except for "After the Gold Rush," which he didn't do quite in full, though he tried out the couple of passages he remembered, in a Neil Young-worthy pitch, no less. He bestowed a particularly lengthy instrumental intro to "Lock My Heart and Throw Away the Key," so much so that I thought he was just vamping, but nope, it eventually found a lovely form.

When our requests failed to inspire him, Jon asked for some assistance from Scott in the soundbooth, who pumped out a hard, cold beat, eventually leading Jon to "Wild Thing," but sounding more like Tone Loc than anyone else. Jon followed this muse down a couple of avenues, at times reminding me of old-school favorites such as "Planet Rock" and "Egyptian Lover." Then again, there was definitely a quote from Scott Joplin in there, so I could be miles off base. At the end, Jon called it a "Duke Ellington soundtrack from Ishtar"--odd bedfellows.

I'm pretty sure someone asked for "Star Spangled Banner," which Jon broke down into different time signatures on the guitar, though there was no mistaking the tune itself. "That's Just What You Are," which I always love, required piano and harmonica this night. And for the final number, he stripped "Same Old Scene" of the Eurodisco elements in which he had previously draped the song and went with only piano and celeste, showing off, once again, Bryan Ferry's songwriting chops.

See you in November.

Set 1
--Todd Carlin opener

--Take 5
--Same Thing
--Eternal Sunshine theme
--Meaningless
--Didn't Think It Would Turn Out Bad
--Excuse to Cry
--Knock Yourself Out
--Star Trek theme
--Better You Than Me [new song]
--The Way It Went
--Please Stay Away from Me [new song]
--They Don't Know *
--All I Have to Do Is Dream *
--One Fast Move or I'm Gone *
--Heroes
--Nowhere Man [Les Paul style]

Set 2
--ragtime piano
--Duke Ellington piano instrumental
--Flight of the Bumblebee
--This Is Where I Belong
--After the Gold Rush
--Hook Line and Sinker
--Lock My Heart and Throw Away the Key
--Wild Thing [sort of]
--Star Spangled Banner
--That's Just What You Are
--Same Old Scene

* = with Ben Gibbard

See also:
» her little heart it could explode