deep rivers run quiet

Hey, I remember keeping a regular blog! I'd better get in these concert reports now before the baseball season claims me again. This week, Black Rivers visited the Chapel on their short debut tour in the United States.

Black Rivers, the Chapel, March 26, 2015: I'm so out of the habit of reading music magazines that I have no idea if Doves have broken up, except that I haven't seen any notification from, say, the mailing list. I mean, I know Jimi Goodwin has a solo record, and now the two remaining members (also, brothers/twins) have Black Rivers, but the band could be taking a break, right? Also, does any band break up anymore? What reunion tour isn't around the corner? I'm too lazy to investigate, but I'm not so lazy that I won't at least go to their show and find out for myself.

It's been long enough since the last Doves show I saw that I don't mind repeating that I love them. I've traveled for them, dammit! (Granted, that doesn't necessarily mean a ton with my rock tourism habits.) In 2000, Badly Drawn Boy's The Hour of Bewilderbeast and Doves' Lost Souls were a one-two punch from moody Mancunian tunesmiths, and they ruled my MP3 player for months on end. I still listen to them all the time for emotional sustenance, not to mention they're one of the few bands in my music collection that would qualify as booty music (yes, Mancs and Canucks fill out my booty music bracket).

However, I haven't listened to either Black Rivers or Jimi Goodwin's solo work; given the choice of studio output vs. the live experience, my limited disposable income goes to the gig. Thus, I wasn't sure what to expect from the show, but never fear. Black Rivers' songs reminded me why I love Doves so much. The cinematic arrangements and atmospheric feel were intact, with maybe more of a rocking feel. Then again, that could've been my proximity to the stage and the blaring mix from the guitar monitor.



I've always wondered how the division of labor works in Doves -- who is most responsible for which touches, whether anyone leads a specific charge. Of course, each musician has a main instrument: Jimi on bass and most vocals, Jez on lead guitar, and Andy on drums, the latter two occasionally taking a turn on the mic too. Also, it's not like the lyrics are Dylanesque or mine a deep auteur's vein (not an insult). Black Rivers didn't shed much light on the question. Jez took all lead vocals, but the songs were close enough to Doves trademark material that you could probably mistake them for each other in a blind listening test.

Not helping the situation: Black Rivers did a couple of Doves songs, but not the ones with Jez or Andy on lead vocals. For example, "Jetstream" and "Here It Comes" are two of my favorite Jez and Andy vocals, but instead, they did "Rise" and "Black and White Town." "Pounding" was also on the list, but they didn't get to it. Further muddying the picture, Black Rivers used the same keyboardist they had on the last Doves tour. As you can imagine, the Doves tracks got a big reception from the crowd.

I have a confession here: The sound at the front, namely the vocals, was terrible, and I could barely make out a word of the lyrics or the banter, and it had nothing to do with the Manc accents. Like many other British bands on their first tour of the United States, Black Rivers is used to playing much bigger rooms in the United Kingdom, and the sound suffered for it. Hey, it gives you something to look forward to on the next tour -- if they will be back, so will I.



By the way, I had no idea how of the size of this tour before I got to the show. It sounds like they did only a few very small shows in California after SXSW, and San Francisco was the last stop on the road. And after the gig, I had an almost Broad City-like (apologetic, drunk pissing dude; drunk, supine, rolling woman) adventure getting home, so hats off to Black Rivers for briefly interrupting my life as a shut-in. You guys are totally worth two bus rides, transfer included!

See also:
» doubles up and comes back Mondays
» here comes the action
» seems that I've been waiting here forever
» talking trash under your breath

doubles up and comes back Mondays

According to my concert diary (a.k.a. this blog), it's been more than a year since I've seen a show at the Fillmore. Wow, I really have been out of the loop--or, more appropriately, I've been tracing a pattern on a completely different Moebius strip. For Doves, though, I'd be willing to circle in a holding pattern for some time. (You could also argue I've, in essence, done exactly that.)

Doves, the Fillmore, May 18, 2009: At the end of the Doves' Wiltern show, my friend turned to me and said she wished she could see the band again. I know that feeling well, and I've uttered those very same words--and I hate being in that situation. If I could've helped her escape that fate, I would have done so. Selfishly, though, I was just happy for my temporary reprieve.

On the surface, the variations between the Fillmore and Wiltern gigs are easy to report. For one, the Fillmore is smaller, so you have to recalibrate the audience response and the band interaction accordingly. However, we let the Doves know we love them (literally, in the case of one guy's proclamation to Jez), and they in turn thanked us for our early and ongoing support. Also, we got one song in San Francisco ("Compulsion") that wasn't played in Los Angeles.

Regarding the rest of their setlist, I appreciated Jimi's comment on "Kingdom of Rust," calling it a "Lancashire spaghetti western," in case we missed the other clues (the ranch footage, the Sergio Leone feel). Elsewhere, he threatened/promised some freestyling, but it didn't materialize.

For me, though, the biggest difference between the two gigs came down to proximity. In Los Angeles, my friend and I had consciously decided to forgo the pit, though we were in prime position for the Wiltern's coveted wristbands. It was the right decision at the time. At the Fillmore, however, there was only one place to be, and it offered a new perspective--in more than one sense--of the show.



The best bands tend to exceed the sum of their parts; it's not just a lyric, a melody, a guitar solo, or a drum fill. If you're lucky, it's all of the above, plus some other X factor tying them all together. This sums up the Wiltern experience, as we leaned back, relaxed, and reveled in the group's epic soundscapes.

Up close at the Fillmore, though we were still dancing and taking it all in, I got the chance to appreciate the separate ingredients. If I had to point to a single song that best brought together all these senses, it might be "Pounding," with its driving beat, percolating bass line, and glissando of guitar. (Note: I would probably say that about most Doves songs.)



Doves fascinate me because they strike me as one of the few true democracies as far as bands go. Though Jimi does much of the talking and the singing, I've yet to see him offering himself as a symbol and a focal point for the band--ingrained behavior among typical frontmen.

While it could be easy to overlook Jez and Andy's contributions, that would be a huge mistake. Jez brings those killer guitar licks, and Andy supplies the groove that anchors and distinguishes so much of the group's music. That's just the surface presentation too; few of us could know what goes on in the studio. No act bore out this equanimity better than their choice of a closer: "There Goes the Fear," which concluded with each band member on a percussion instrument. Besides, it just looked cool.



Long before I sat down to write this post, I had in mind several points I wanted to bring up: the different set of friends I had when I first started listening to the Doves nine years ago; how I tend to favor a "no production" style of production nowadays, far removed from the Doves' strengths; how most of the bands they're often compared to (U2, Coldplay) can't move me to anywhere near the extent Doves do. Basically, there's little reason I should be a Doves fan in 2009--yet I am, and all signs point to one explanation: There is no one else like them, and that is an achievement in itself.

Wild Light opened in both Los Angeles and San Francisco. They weren't afraid to deliver a full, confident sound, and it was clear that they had been playing together for a long time. It was impossible to not hear the antecedents to their sound, but oddly, the first reference that hit me wasn't the bands I grew up with, but their direct descendant: the Killers. They're not my thing, but their army of fans will likely disagree.

See also:
» seems that I've been waiting here forever

seems that I've been waiting here forever

If I were less uptight, I would take advantage of this platform to fire off odes, diatribes, and general musings about whatever band whenever the spirit hit me. Alas, I'm as buttoned-up in blogging as I am with everything else, so I confine my posts to specific events. This limited scope also means that sometimes, I really, really look forward to writing about certain bands. Such is the case with Doves, returning to the States with their first album in five years.

Doves, the Wiltern, May 16, 2009: It would be ridiculous for me to complain about a tour on which I saw a band in Cambridge, England, and Austin, Texas, but I have to lodge a small caveat to the Doves' last campaign through the United States. You see, they were touring at the same time as Wilco, and anyone who reads this blog knows how those conflicts typically turn out. Though I can't recall the exact details, I know I went to see Wilco at the Greek the same night Doves had a show--likely at the Wiltern. On the other hand, Wilco-related wanderlust fueled both of the aforementioned trips, so I guess you can also count those two Doves shows among the fringe benefits of my far-flung travels.

This same dilemma reared its head once more; on the very same night and in this very same city, Nels and Mike from Wilco were sharing a double bill. After much debate, I finally sided with Doves. Four years is an eternity in the rock timeline, and I didn't want to deprive myself any longer. Also, I'll see Nels and Mike plying their trade, though not in the same capacity, soon enough.

Make no mistake about it: I love Doves. I've been smitten ever since their first album, which brought me great comfort during some tough times. And though I hate to quantify artistry, they're probably my third-favorite band--not too shabby considering that the top two slots have been a lock for the past several years (just don't make me pick between them). By the same token, though, I've been fairly frank in saying that the band's live show isn't necessarily their strength.

Keeping in mind this mental asterisk, let me declare the Wiltern gig the best show I've ever seen by Doves. They sounded great, the visuals were stunning, I've never heard Jimi speak so much, and the crowd was right there with them. Who says concerts in L.A. suck? (Not me!)

To be expected, they concentrated on the new album, though they left off "Lifelines," which I had pegged as a sure anthemic closer. The big singles from Kingdom of Rust were well represented, with the excellent "Jetstream" opening the show, accompanied by footage of a jet plane's liftoff. The film supporting "Winter Hill" suggested snowfall, "Kingdom of Rust" was set among images evoking the American West, and oddly, "The Greatest Denier" played out against shots of the Chicago skyline. Further punctuating the cowboy connection in "Kingdom of Rust," Jimi dropped in a nod to the Beverly Hillbillies and attempted one of the worst Southern accents I've ever heard upon the conclusion of the song.



Jimi was as chatty as I've seen him. He singled out a couple "making out" in the balcony (I thought the Brits prefer the term "snogging"?) and took credit for bringing people together in marriage and parenthood via the band's message board. Mostly, though, I recall their gratitude for our continuing patronage, especially in a country that often shuts out even the most hyped U.K. artists.

Jimi may be pegged as the frontman, but Doves aren't complete with Jez and Andy. Jez kicked off the show, in fact, with "Jetstream" (have I mentioned how much I love that song? can I mention it again?) and "Words," while Andy switched spots with Jimi for his customary "Here It Comes," Wigan dance footage intact.



The band's singles don't really register in the United States, so as a fan in America, you become intimately familiar with their album tracks. Thus, now that Doves are on their fourth release, it's inevitable they'll leave someone's favorite song off the setlist. For example, I maintain that "Cedar Room" is one of the greatest songs ever, but I can't be bitter about its absence, especially when they're featuring unexpected titles such as "Ambition" and "Firesuite."

About "Firesuite": This version was grittier and less mannered--to awesome affect--than I recall. It also reminded me that I, for one, can't live on earnest singer-songwriters alone. Damn, that song is one slinky, silky tease of a tune, and few bands do it as well as Doves.

See also:
» i won't be denied
» here comes the action

here comes the action

Here it comes at last.

Reading in '99 was the last full-blown festival I've done. In the interim, my enthusiasm for UK music has cooled considerably, and my appreciation for American bands has grown accordingly. By coincidence, the American festival scene has blossomed over the years, due in no small part to Coachella's success, I'd say. I've resisted so far, given that most of the bands I want to see head to San Francisco sooner or later, but this year's lineup at the Austin City Limits Festival was too strong. The deal was sealed when the stages were announced, and Doves, Arcade Fire, and Wilco were set to play one after the other.

Paul and I got into Austin on Friday afternoon. The festival was already underway, but we had to kill some time before we picked up Kristina from the airport, so we decided to drive around downtown and get a feel for the legendary clubs. Cruising down 6th Street, we immediately confirmed that, indeed, Austin is a magical place. On the corner of 6th and Congress, we saw Chris Martin of Coldplay ambling down the avenue with an older gentleman (a manager?). Watching him walk away, I realized that Jason Lowenstein, formerly of Sebadoh, was waiting to cross the street at that same corner. And a mere two blocks later, we saw Mike of Wilco strolling by as well. Music Capital of the World? No arguments here.

By the time we fetched Kristina, checked into the hotel, and made our way to the festival grounds, it was fairly late in the day. As we reached Zilker Park, I heard Spoon playing "My Mathematical Mind," the last song of their set. They were ostensibly the one band I wanted to catch that day, but I've been far from deprived of seeing the band live, and it seems that they're coming back to San Francisco in November anyway. But we were in time for Kristina's pick for the day, John Prine. Ordinarily, he's not my kind of singer at all, but that's what festivals are for, right? During the quieter parts of his set, we could hear the Allman Brothers blasting away from way across the huge field, but John soldiered on with his patented blend of heartfelt and densely imagined songs. That was pretty much it for the first day, as we had to catch the Arcade Fire show back in town that night.

I think Keane was on that same night, and we had to hear parts of their set, though it was far away enough that it wasn't traumatic. On our way out to catch the shuttle, we heard Lyle Lovett and his Large Band. They sounded like a great time, and the newspaper reports the next day confirmed that they were a pleasant departure from the rest of the lineup.

The second day had, in my opinion, the weakest lineup, but we had bought the three-day pass, so it was stupid to not show up for at least a short while. It turned out that the one performer I wanted to see, Kathleen Edwards, couldn't make it to the festival. I don't know who her replacement was; regardless, we stuck around for half of Built to Spill's set. Unfortunately, they're one of those bands who were coming up in the scene around the same time I was obsessed with Pavement, so I never got around to really listening to them. What I heard sounded great, and the guitar work was absolutely scorching.

During the day's wanderings, we managed to bump into Scott, who was there with his wife, his parents, and many friends and who looked like he was dressed for a safari. But with the heat and humidity, he had the last laugh.

And then there was Sunday. The heat had certainly pressed down Friday and Saturday, but perhaps the only good thing to come out of Hurricane Rita was that it kept the temperatures slightly below average and had brought about some of the breezes. It all ended Sunday. The weather reports claimed that we would reach nearly record high temperatures, the one day that we anticipated standing in front of the stage for the entire stretch. Oh, the other good thing to come out of Rita paranoia: we had brought umbrellas, though we were now using them for protection from the sun, rather than the rain.

So yes, it was beyond unbearable, and for long stretches of the day, it felt like my body was one huge pore. The early hours were the toughest, when the sun was directly overhead, and we put up with the musical stylings of Eisley, a family affair out of Tyler, Texas. They were supercute and had sweet voices, but after about half an hour, I thought for sure that I was going to fall asleep on my feet. The end of their set was perhaps the highlight of my weekend, as it meant that the next three bands were on their way.

Doves, Austin City Limits Festival, September 25, 2005: I missed the Doves back in June because of *ahem* other commitments, and they're playing the Download Festival in Mountain View next month at the freaking Shoreline, my least favorite place in the Bay Area. Sure, a festival is far from a cool club experience, but at least I'd be able to see the band from a decent distance, rather than from some lame seat at the sterile local shed. Doves are easily one of my top five or so at the moment, and Some Cities is among my favorite releases of the year. The last time I saw them, I missed the train coming back from Cambridge--that's how much I dig 'em!

I admit that Doves are perhaps more of a studio band than a live band. Their music is layered and always surprising, with sonic touches that you don't hear until you're wearing your headphones at a certain hour of the day or the night. While their live experience doesn't always deliver, they sounded great in Austin. At the risk of completely contradicting myself, they know how to fill a room with music, if not stage banter. You could hear the distinctive U2-like guitar touches in parts, but they also evoked Motown and New Order, yet all the while maintaining their own sound. Jimi Goodwin referred to the deadening heat, apologizing for their lack of choreography, but to make up for it, he did one little snake/caterpillar move that will strike a chord with anyone who's watched Electric Boogaloo.

They did an abridged version of their standard setlist, mostly stuff from the second and third albums, with "Here It Comes," featuring Andy Williams on lead vocals, and (of course) "Cedar Room" from my favorite Lost Souls. They had no technical difficulties either, from what I could tell, which is something you can never predict with them. Best of all, the sun dipped behind the stage around the end of their set, so the worst weather-related misery was over.

I saw a lot of enthusiastic listeners around me, though I was probably the designated dorky fan in the front who knew all the lyrics. I doubt that Doves will ever become a huge band in the States, but at least they stand a good chance of sustaining the numbers and continuing to come back to our shores. They had a signing session at the Waterloo tent immediately after their set, but I was already scheduled to dig my heels in for the current indie darlings.

Arcade Fire, Austin City Limits Festival, September 25, 2005: How much more can you say about the Arcade Fire that hasn't already been printed, analyzed, rebuked, and reprinted some more? Hell, I feel like an idiot writing anything now, but that's hardly stopped me before.

Let's see, the crowd noticeably thickened after Doves, but the fairly well-behaved audience didn't push or jostle too much (at least not where we stood). Arcade Fire's set drew the most photographers of the day at our stage; the media pit between the stage and the audience must've held dozens of 'em. Oh, and the Martin-Paltrow clan (Chris Martin, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Apple Martin, with huge headphones on her adorable head) watched from the side of the stage. From all reports, Arcade Fire made quite an impression on Chris, and he couldn't stop raving about them during Coldplay's headlining set on the other side of the park.

On to the music: the band played up every aspect that the public has grown to love. Opening with "Wake Up," they stuck with the more spirited songs from their oeuvre, so no, say, "Crown of Love," but they belted out "Five Years." As for antics, Win abused his mic stand, this time nearly assaulting the poor camera guy with it and breaking at least two stands during the course of the show. Will and Richard were up to their goofiness, and the kids around us loved every second of it, becoming instant fans. The band also threw out bottles of water to the heated audience, though they commanded the recipients to drink them immediately, lest they show up on eBay.

I'm an admitted venue snob, but oddly enough, this was my favorite of the recent Arcade Fire shows I saw. They don't exactly compare to the shows from last winter, but I don't recall so many people singing along earlier this year, and it's hard to deny the passion spewing out of the audience. Festivals aren't my favorites, but every now and then, they deliver.

Wilco, Austin City Limits Festival, September 25, 2005: Am I an idiot for bothering to see my favorite band with tens of thousands of people, in a ridiculously hot, dusty field three states over immediately following a couple of incredible smaller performances? Well, yeah, but so what? At least I'll keep this report short.

The set was very standard, but they favored the more upbeat songs, on the whole. They even did the new one, "Walken." Jeff was in a fantastic mood, chatting with the crowd and getting us to clap and sing along. The voices around me were loud and clear, and I hope they loved the set. Jeff messed up a verse of "Always in Love" and sheepishly grinned at us in acknowledgement of his boo-boo. Nels was less goofy than he had been at the previous two shows, but his intensity never wavered. I actually got to see more of Glenn this time, for the first time in a while, and make no mistake, he is as fascinating a drummer as ever. At the very end, Nels even spoke into the microphone, pointing at the AMD stage and uttering exactly one word: "Tortoise." I would've loved to heed his recommendation, but my tired, dirty, and hungry body implored me to hop on the shuttle instead. Thank you, ACL, even if we never meet again.

Gawker alert: We saw Luke Wilson and members of Doves crew watching the band from the side of the stage--take that, Gwyneth!

See also:
» you change all the lead sleeping in my head
» i won't be denied

i won't be denied

I need to do this before I fall asleep, but maybe it's a good thing that I'm staying awake--to regulate the jet lag and all. Perhaps. So let's get this thing rolling, in chronological order.

Jeff Tweedy, Vic Theater, March 4 and 5, 2005: Heidi waited for me at Midway, and we made the trek to the S'n'S. On our cab ride from the El, I saw the remnants of a bunny rabbit costume (Flaming Lips style) in the doorjam of a building, right there on North. Mind you, this was about 11:30 p.m., on a cold Chicago night. I said to Heidi, "Look, a bunny!" She scoffed at me until she saw that I meant a bunny costume and not a living, breathing creature. It looked so sad, that big rabbit head and the tattered body. When we told Sam about it after we arrived, she wanted to go get it, but alas, we didn't want to venture outside again, and it was gone by the morning. :( Boo hoo.

To no one's surprise, we got there bright and early the next morning, to find a couple from Indianapolis at the front of the line and Brianne and Gina right behind them. Kevin and Amy arrived shortly after us, and before you knew it, we were celebrating the day! I admit that the line thing is very silly to anyone who's never done it, but I swear, we enjoy each other's company. Besides, if we weren't in line, I think we'd be too consumed by worries of being in the front that we couldn't enjoy alternative activities. As it stood, I got to eat at delicious Sinbad's, where Paul and I made very loose plans for the Great Wall's European invasion.

Once inside, I took my place at the barrier between Amy and Heidi, with a comfy cushion of tons of our buddies nearby. The Vic is a cool theater for Wilco, but it looked rather big for Jeff solo, and when he arrived, it looked even bigger. It was very strange for me to see him alone onstage at such a venue, though I knew it wasn't his first time there. The other solo shows I've seen have been at much more intimate clubs, so I had to wonder how this experience would differ. Well, he didn't seem that comfortable early on, but he warmed up considerably after he could hear us singing right back at him. The setlist was delicious and obviously based in large part on the list we originally submitted for the private show. Later, we found out that our own Dr. J was responsible for the song selection. Heck, I was just happy to hear "Blasting Fonda" again, as well as "ELT" in its entirety.

We didn't do much that night, but after we secured our spots in line, we headed over to Kristina's for brunch the next day to welcome Judy, Jerod, and Miles. I brought over cookies, but they already had a full setup going of all kinds of goodies. This was likely the highlight of my weekend--just hanging out with my friends, eating yummy food, playing with the beautiful baby, and coming together for a big old singalong! Miles is a lovely, adorable baby, and his parents are the cutest pair, as well. That Mart is every bit as talented as I had suspected, and he warmed up our vocal chords nicely.

Which is a good thing because sing we did on Saturday night, nearly from the beginning. Saturday saw a bunch of Golden Smog tunes and just a generally relaxed air. For the final encore, in a not very surprising (but very welcome) move, the other members of Wilco minus Nels joined Jeff onstage. Jeff and Glenn kicked off with "Laminated Cat," and when the rest of the band came on, Mike was sitting right at the front, in a new position for him. I finally got my chance to hear "John Wesley Harding" with the full band, and I hope they do that one more often because it sounded great. I missed Nels in many parts, but it was the corker to a great weekend.

Doves, Cambridge Corn Exchange, March 12, 2005: I ended up shopping in London for longer than planned, so I didn't get to Cambridge until after 6 p.m., as many parts of the town were shutting down. But I took a quick swing around the area and got to the venue about 15 minutes before doors opened. Oh my, a young girl at the front of the line had written "I heart Doves" on her forehead with black marker. I'm not exactly one to speak, but it didn't strike me as being the smartest thing to do.

The Corn Exchange is a decent-size room, with huge stone walls in the main area. The stage had been set up with at least a dozen lights for a major light show, which is not that different from what the band had brought to the States on the last go-around, but at least it looked more appropriate in the bigger rooms. I felt a little bit of trepidation about the show. Obviously, I love the band and the new record, but I still had that nagging voice in my head that told me they weren't great live. Also, the people around me seemed to be such amateurs. Over here, it takes a little bit more effort to find bands such as Doves, whereas they are chart-toppers back in the UK, so of course, people are going to be more blase about them. Still, I was trying not to get offended by the fact that some of the people around me barely knew any of the songs. Argh!

My fears were gone as soon as they started with "Pounding," which filled every nook and corner of the club, and it made sense to me that this was how they were supposed to be heard and felt and experienced. They played a pretty good mix of all the albums, though I was surprised there wasn't more of an emphasis on the new one. As I recall, they didn't do "Some Cities," which happens to be my favorite track, but they hit "Ambition," a song that might be passed over by fans. As always "Cedar Room" rocked my world, and they even had a new intro.

The concert ended a little before 11, but unfortunately, I got totally lost in the windy streets of Cambridge and missed the last train back to London. Fortunately, I'm not a panicky girl, so I found a cheap room at a B&B and stayed there for the night. I caught the first train back to London and onto...

Wilco, Nottingham Rock City, March 13, 2005: Fortunately, I had little problem finding Paul this time, though I killed a couple of hours at the hotel waiting for the group to return from Ye Olde Road to Jerusalem. Then again, I've already been there, and they needed to see the place more than I did.

Paul and I stoppped by Wagamama for dinner before the show, and we noticed that the Concert Hall across the street was hosting Tony Hadley vs. Martin Fry at the end of the month. Eeek! We thoroughly enjoyed our dinner and even picked up a copy of the Wagamama cookbook for our favorite improv guitarist genius dude.

Back at Rock City, the club's steps were already overtaken by the city's disaffected youth, who were destroying copies of such classics as the Bachelors records and other hits from the '50s. The club itself is a little dumpy but very cool; it reminded me of the Paradise in Boston. We were very much pinning our hopes on these tiny venues, so we weren't disappointed. The main set was fine, but the encores really made it for me. I finally got to hear "Outtasite" again after all these years! We bestowed our gift to the tall guy and in return got to hear a long tirade about Iron Chef Flay, among other things. I was also able to clear up some info about my name. Best of all, after the show, the Hilton's lovely beds awaited us. I didn't want to get up the next morning.

Wilco, Carling Apollo, March 14, 2005: As this was a seated show, we had plenty of time that day to get down to London and even to wander around a bit before the gig. We made it to the Wolseley (recommended in Gourmet) for afternoon tea, and it was a divine affair. The desserts were delicious, the scones were adorable, and the clotted cream was dreamy.

Back at the show, we saw Martha Wainwright's opening set again. I don't recall how many times I've seen her, but it would certainly include a series of shows with Rufus. The title track from her EP, Bloody Motherfucking Asshole, is a great Dylan-esque number with one of the most memorable choruses in a while. I like her, but I prefer her folksier stuff, as opposed to the whispery numbers. It's good to see her get some attention, and the London crowd was very respectful of her.

The Carling Apollo is not a small club; by my estimates, it probably holds around 2,500 seated. We had decent seats on Nels's side, but they didn't help a whole lot, as the crowd stayed in their chairs for the entirety of the main set. Then again, Wilco's set was based heavily on the last two albums, so there weren't too many surprises. I wanted to jump around during "Shot in the Arm," but Paul made me sit down. Grrr!

Hands down, the highlight of the show was the last song, where Jeff cited Bill Fay, who was in the audience that night. It's rare to see your rock idol meet his rock idol, and Jeff was obviously very moved by the opportunity. I was glad that I was there to hear it for myself.

Wilco, Elysee Montmartre, March 16, 2005: We had a travel day and a day to hang around Paris, and we used our time wisely. We ate, drank, and saw a number of monuments. I really dug strolling down the Champs-Elysees on such a fine morning.

The day before, we had passed by the Elysee Montmartre to see a small line of people waiting to get into the sold-out Mars Volta show. However, this didn't worry us, as we figured it wouldn't be the same for Wilco. So we showed up not too long before doors opened and met Andrew from the UK. He's a dead ringer for Stephen Colbert, even if he has no idea what I'm talking about. Inside, the Elysee Montmartre is not unlike the Fillmore and about a million other clubs I can think of--that is, it's a great place to see a band. And this turned out to be my favorite of the shows. As with the rest of our trip, there were tons of Americans in the audience, but for whatever reason, the band and the fans really clicked this time, and the energy level was awesome. On the downside, there were more obnoxious people at the show, but we managed to not let them affect us too much.

After the show, we hung out, and I got a chance to say good-bye to everyone before I headed home. I think I got a great pic of the Valet and his esteemed Master in a man-kiss, and we designated a couple of honorary Great Wall peeps for photographic purposes. I also admitted that my rock tourism wasn't quite at an end yet. In return, we got to hear about the meeting with Bill Fay. Ahhh, it was a night to remember.

Jon Brion, Largo, March 18, 2005: I always have this fear that I'll show up at Largo and be told that there's no record of my reservation. I gotta work on that, as it hasn't happened yet. Here's the setlist, as far as I can recall:

1. Same Thing
2. I Thought About You (jazz standard)
3. Maybe You're a Different Girl
4. bluegrass song ("It's a long way to heaven")
5. Here We Go
6. Get Your Freak On
7. Over Our Heads
8. Who Loves the Sun
9. The Love of My Life So Far
10. Same Mistakes
11. rocking song ("So I fell in love with you/So what/Big deal")
12. I'm on a Roll with You
13. Moonage Daydream/Sexy Sadie/New York Mining Disaster 1941/Nothing Between Us

Set 2
14. theme from The Sting/long piano interlude/Ashes to Ashes
15. Someone Else's Problem
16. Jeopardy theme
17. Walking through Walls
18. ???
19. I Was Happy with You
20. Voices
21. Pop Life (w/ Kanye West dropping in for a freestyling stretch)

Overall, it was a great show, with lots of energy and a good amount of crowd participation, though Jon seemed to have strong ideas of where he wanted to go. He said that his fingers weren't doing what he wanted them to, but my companions (including two first-timers) were stunned by his ability to simultaneously play the guitar and tune it for the next segue. It was nice to see Jon do a lot of his own songs, old, new, and so far unreleased.

I love that Jon continues to play "Same Thing" yet tries different approaches to it every time, especially in creating the rhythm that kicks off the song. But more surprising and delightful was "Nothing Between Us," which I haven't heard him play for ages. "Here We Go" had a different intro, which Annie's friend says was music from Eternal Sunshine. I can't remember the score enough, but I recall that the piano instrumentals sounded familiar, even if I couldn't place them. "Voices" was relatively brief, compared to Jon's previous renditions, when he used the wind-up music boxes as instrumental accompaniment (one of my favorite memories ever). Then again, maybe he knew that he had to keep it short and bring on Kanye before we hit 2 a.m.

Truthfully, "Get Your Freak On" lasted only 20 seconds or so, but it was a fun attempt. The highlight for me was probably the Bowie/Beatles/Bee Gees/Grays medley, and the normally comforting sounds of the tack piano took on a spacey, distant air for "Ashes to Ashes," but Kanye's appearance brought the house down. I've heard Jon cover "Pop Life" before, but tonight's version was a deeper, more soulful take, complete with fuller drums and warm piano backing, unlike Prince's cold, hard critique of '80s lifestyles. In the middle of the song, Jon grabbed Kanye from a dark corner of the room and brought him onstage. No introductions--just a bit of a Vanna-style flourish. Kanye started rapping over Jon's tracks, namechecking his host, himself, and Jay-Z in the process. Again, my friends were flabbergasted, as was I. And for the full starfucker rundown, my friends told me that Kanye was rolling with John Legend at the show.

See also:
» my cousin's account of the evening
» top 5 Largo memories
» get a load of the lengths I go to