the man who invented himself

Happy 2026! This blog has a reason to exist again, and pardon the delay, but I'm back on the clock (when possible). Without further ado, Jon Brion!

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, November 7, 2025

The date showed up out of nowhere, and I didn't need to be asked twice. If I recall correctly, Jon's last show took place in June 2024, but I was at Wilco's every-other-year Solid Sound Festival. You can't attend them all, but I had no idea Jon wouldn't be back for 16 months. Reminder: Go see your favorite artists whenever you can. There's no guarantee you'll get another opportunity.

Flanny of course did the introduction, showing off his Dodgers t-shirt. (No comment.) Jon looked like a professor when he made his entrance, with a soft bucket hat on his head, a loose scarf around his neck, and a leather bookbag slung over his shoulder. School was in session.

You couldn't miss the Steinway baby grand parked center stage or the numerous mics strategically positioned on and around the instrument. Jon also had a small array of guitars at his disposal, but none of the other gear that he's known for -- not even the drums. Anyone who comes to Jon's show knows to expect the unexpected, and without touching a key, he instantly checked that box.

Fom the first note, we knew we were listening to something different. It's hard enough for me to describe Jon's music, especially the instrumentals, but you'll have to bear with me. All I can say is that Jon played the piano and checked a MacBook to his left. As an audience member, I heard both the piano, but also a synth undertone and a slight dissonance behind the main notes. In his usual fashion, Jon opened with a roughly 20-minute instrumental exercise that I won't attempt to guess.

He did end the tune with some background on the bionic piano. He said playing it was like having 88 EBows on piano and credited Andrew McPherson for his innovation, which he jokingly referred to as "a bunch of magnets." He's not lying, but you can investigate for yourself on his website.

Overall, I took very few notes about the actual sound because I lack the vocabulary or the musical knowledge to do it justice. In many ways, the songs were deeper than what you'd expect from, in essence, a singular piano. At times, it sounded like a string orchestra but maybe fed through a filter.

Jon immediately asked for a request, but warned that "it's gonna come back moody." He opted for his classic "Same Thing," which is always a great start to the pop portion of the night. He continued with his own soundtrack songs. I identified one as "Strangest Times" from I Heart Huckabees, but I have to admit that I couldn't place the other one. It might've been from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, but no guarantees.

Jon next treated us to Robyn Hitchcock rock block with the sublime "Queen Elvis," followed by "The Man Who Invented Himself." For the latter, he drew from a large binder of lyrics, and to the best of my knowledge, he used no effects. He also told a story about going to a record store around the time of the album's release and the record store employee introducing him to the record -- a rite of passage that any vinyl fan can relate to.

He returned to one of his original songs (not one of my favorites, I have to admit), then what I think was "'Round Midnight," which I mostly recognize because it goes on for a long time. I'm half-kidding; I've heard Jon perform this song enough times that I can pick out an arc or two.

Jon played an extended intro as he welcomed Grant Lee Phillips to the stage. Grant, in case you've forgotten, was one of the main people who helped establish Largo on Fairfax, and he and Jon are always a must-watch combination. I've written about them at length!

Grant was in town for a show at McCabe's the next night, and the crowd at Largo greeted him warmly. To be honest, I can't remember why Jon stretched out the piano prelude. Maybe Grant was looking for a guitar? I recall that Grant briefly grabbed an acoustic, but he quickly abandoned it. In fact, it took him a little while to realize that Jon was playing one of Grant's own tunes -- the sublime "Fuzzy" from the first Grant Lee Buffalo record -- and even asked Jon to confirm the song choice. (Meanwhile, I had been squirming in my seat for several minutes as I waited for them to kick off the performance of a track I've loved for a long time.)

Make no mistake -- Jon nailed this song, but he also gave Grant enough room to improvise with pace, crescendos, and other flourishes. Grant Lee Buffalo was one of my favorites in the '90s, and the song is still a gem.

Jon next started on another favorite, Bowie's "Ashes to Ashes," and yelled at Grant to come back to the stage to handle the vocals. We'll always take more Grant!

After Grant left the stage, Jon hit a couple of soundtrack songs, but I can't tell you which. I suspect one of them was the Lady Bird theme, which has become one of Jon's recent favorites.

Jon took out the big book of lyrics again and paired his choice of a song with a Sondheim-like arrangement. The tune: "Anarchy in the UK," by the Sex Pistols. If you think about it for a minute or two, I bet you can get the gist in your brain. From there, he went into a straightforward rendition of a Cole Porter title to continue the theme.

He followed up with "Trouble" on the piano, then headed over to the guitars for the first time that night. Alas, the diversion was short-lived, as none of them were up to snuff. He returned to the piano and asked for requests, resulting in "I Believe She's Lying."

Jon closed out the encore with another two of his originals. And we still had one more night to look forward to.

Setlist
piano
Same Thing
Strangest Times
soundtrack song?
Queen Elvis
The Man Who Invented Himself
That's What People Do
Round Midnight

with Grant-Lee Phillips
Fuzzy
Ashes to Ashes

Eternal Sunshine theme
soundtrack song?
Anarchy in the UK
I Concentrate on You
Trouble
I Believe She's Lying

Encore
Ruin My Day
The Way It Went

Related shows
» top 5 Largo memories
» Take Me Home, Country Pigeon
» i'm happy, hope you're happy too

push your old numbers

I'm a creature of rules, but if you happen to be a lifelong friend visiting me from afar, I'm more than willing to bend a few of them to spend time with you. Thus, it was off to enjoy a night in the Mission District, complete with burritos and '90s indie rock heroes Kristin Hersh and Grant-Lee Phillips, in the company of my old pal Jacki.

Kristin Hersh and Grant-Lee Phillips, the Chapel, March 29, 2018

About Jacki -- we saw a lot of music together back when she lived in the Bay Area, and in fact, she was my Grant Lee Buffalo buddy for a long time, seeing their shows all over the Bay Area. I'm not sure even she understands the magnitude of the concert we saw at Slim's in 1994. It kicked my ass and opened my eyes to the power of modern American indie music. If it weren't for that gig, I'm not sure I would've found my way to Wilco, and though I think I would've discovered Largo at some point, I doubt I'd have staked my claim when I did.

Fast-forward a jillion years, and she happened to schedule a visit when Kristin Hersh and Grant-Lee Phillips were in town. Of course that meant I had to break my not at all hard rule about seeing musicians from way back in my younger days. Bonus: My friend Jenn -- whom I had met in line while waiting to buy Jeff Tweedy tickets at the Fillmore, then ran into again months later at BOTH, where we were chatting for a good 20 or 30 minutes before we realized we had already met -- was there too!

If you read this blog regularly, you know I don't do a ton of research into gigs anymore. I buy the tickets, show up, and let the music work its magic. Based on the billing, I assumed this was a co-headlining tour, but didn't give much thought to how Kristin and Grant would share the stage. As it happened, we arrived mere minutes before Grant started his set, which was obviously good for us.

I've lost track of how many times I've seen Grant over the years, but it's been a while. To be frank, Largo grew and his audience did not. In addition, I heard that he's since moved out of the state, so he's less likely to drop in and hang out as he did back in the day.

What hasn't changed is his gorgeous, clear voice and the buoyant harmonies he favors. It was easy to get right back into his songs and his familiar banter. Unsurprisingly, he referenced the current political atmosphere and the songs he wrote in reaction to the 2016 election. His commentary wasn't heavy-handed, but even if it were, I wouldn't have minded. It's impossible to avoid, and I don't think you can underplay the disaster of this administration anyway. He also revisited the work of his old band with the magnificent "Mighty Joe Moon" and "Honey Don't Think," both of which remain transcendent.

Kristin Hersh was, in fact, the headliner and enjoyed a longer set than Grant. I have to admit I didn't listen to Throwing Muses during those years, despite their prestigious slot on the 4AD roster and the fact that Mori -- my dear friend and the biggest Anglophile I know -- actually liked them, American provenance and all. I don't have an explanation why, but hey, you can't listen to everything all the time. Now, of course, it's easier to see how she matched up against the songwriters of that time, and it's no mystery how she's stuck around all these years. Simply put, she has a distinct, original worldview and the craft to match it.

The ethereal Kristin Hersh at the Chapel, March 29, 2018

A post shared by pneyu (@pneyu) on Apr 6, 2018 at 2:19pm PDT

In their current incarnations, it can be hard to believe that Kristin and Grant arose from the same era and the same genre. Kristin addressed it herself in her opening remarks, where she contrasted Grant's happy, catchy songs with her heavier tracks. But listen in, and you'll hear an authentic record of modern life in their lyrics. And we're lucky to get to hear them over the years.

Seeing Kristin onstage, it hit me that she could be Gillian Welch's northern, hardscrabble cousin -- if you don't mind my mythologizing (and overlook the fact that Gillian grew up in Los Angeles with show-biz adoptive parents). I try not to fall into lazy generalizations, but again, give them a listen to their stories of lives lived away from the usual paths. You might hear it too.

Anyway, Kristin belied her sometimes unsettling songs with funny stories, including an interview she had done earlier that week with someone who she thought had clearly based their questions on her Wikipedia entry. She also shared a memory of driving away from her home in anger and encountering a man who was steering a snow tractor in circles. She concluded that he had probably done the same as her but had grabbed the other set of keys. And for those of us who like the hits, she did the peerless "Your Ghost."

Grant and Kristin concluded the show with a duet on one of her songs whose title escaped me, as well as some stories about their shared acquaintance. Their mutual friend John Doe came up in conversation, along with a mention of the days when VH1 actually showed their music videos. It's hard to believe these days, but it was all true for one glorious era.

See also:
» Take Me Home Country Pigeon
» i'm happy, hope you're happy too
» the shining hour

i want my JBTV

Last week, I slid down the YouTube rabbit hole, entranced by an old performance video of Aimee Mann on Jon Stewart's old MTV talk show. Not coincidentally, Jon Brion was in her touring band at the time. I think I watched the video a couple of dozen times in a row, and the song is still in my head. It also moved me to do something about the hours and hours of videos in my archives.

This may or may not surprise you, but I'm a bit of a collector. I once religiously taped (on VHS!) talk shows and music programs for appearances by my favorite artists. Even scarier, I cataloged them to a good extent. (Multiply that by 10, and you'll get an idea of my former bootleg collection.)

I eventually downsized and got rid of all the videotapes, though not before transferring the better segments to DVD. Fast-forward several years, and I finally figured out how to rip the clips and upload them to YouTube. Yay technology! And um, why did it take so long?!

So in lieu of a concert report and to assuage my Largo longings, I'll share three of the choicest recordings with you. Most of my clips are already on YouTube, but I found three worth checking out. Actually, I think two of them have been available (if somewhat buried in search results) for a while, but the first one may be a bona fide rarity. Enjoy! And please feel free to share them with other fans. They deserve to be seen!

Jon Brion, The Late Late Show, "Knock Yourself Out" (Oct. 29, 2004)


Grant-Lee Phillips & Jon Brion, Real Time with Bill Maher, "See America" (March 21, 2003)


Rhett Miller & Jon Brion, Late World with Zach, "Things That Disappear" (May 1, 2002)


See also:
» i'm happy, hope you're happy too
» the heart of rock 'n' roll is still beating
» tell it to the radio

last night i dreamt

These Jon Brion doubleheaders at Largo at the Coronet have eased my travel decisions in many ways, and I'll never skip one if I'm in town. Still, I can safely say the Friday shows continue to rule the roost. The house is brimming, the bar is bustling, the crowds are buzzing, and when you've been absent for four months as I have, they feel even more special.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, September 30, 2011: My free Friday in Los Angeles had already been shaping up swimmingly, clocking face time with friends and family -- then it got even better after I arrived at Largo. Pals were hugged, seats were stellar, conversation flowed, and as it happened, the music was great. Hopefully I can do it some justice in the report below.

Following Thursday's model, the opening act tonight was another comedian, Margaret Cho, in this case, a longtime friend of Largo. I won't try to recap her set, but she invoked Chris Isaak, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Yoko Ono, among others. I'll also mention she bore a large, freshly applied tattoo on her left leg, protected by a sheet of plastic wrap.

Jon and Margaret shared a huge hug during the hand-off, and already, Jon's mood was notably peppier than the night before. He kept a running count of the first four songs and joked about keeping to a schedule. Of those four tunes, I can positively identify two of them, but as always, I get lost easily when Jon doesn't sing. If you must know my wild guesses, shoot me an email, and I'll make up a couple of titles for you. But this decade-plus of shows has paid off in some ways, as I know which Scott Joplin song Jon favors. I have learned a thing or two after all these years!

The back and forth between Jon's original works and beloved standards continued with "Meaningless," followed by "It Could Happen to You." For the first build, Jon worked up a song I want to hear again and again, the world-owning "Piece of You." How much have I missed this song? I took no notes during the performance -- I just wanted to listen to the great hooks and melodies.

Jon settled back at the piano for the next track, starting with what was probably some of his film music, though I couldn't tell you the exact title. This led to "Strings That Tie to You" on mellotron and celeste, before adding the MicroKorg and piano.

Speaking of film, the video mixers entered the scene as Jon brought up clips of Leonard Bernstein, Sonny Rollins, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I'm not always clear on which contributions make it to the final mix, but the Chili Peppers' rhythm section featured most prominently on what turned out to be "That's Just What You Are."

When I first started listening to music, I assumed songs were monolithic creations, set in stone. Thankfully, I've been disabused of that notion, but sometimes I wonder how certain combinations could possibly coexist. Red Hot Chili Peppers plus Jon Brion plus Aimee Mann (the song's other writer) would ordinarily set off some red flags, but it actually worked. The original tune has its own prominent cadence; the Chili Peppers' signature funk sound, as manipulated by Jon, served to bolster that beat. Sonny Rollins popped in too, at well-chosen intervals.

Jon picked up an acoustic guitar for the next couple of tracks: first, the Smiths, trailed by his own song. Then he asked for requests. Alas, I didn't get one in this evening -- that is, I tried, but it didn't make the cut. (Come on, there's gotta be another "Boys of Summer" fan lurking in the readership!) As for Jon's final selection, I'm going on context clues because I can proudly say I've never listened to "Freebird." But after hearing the audience shout-out and Jon's fair warning at the outset of the performance (on vibes, by the way), then seeing him flip off the requester at the end of the tune, I put the pieces together.

The next choice was Jon's, as he built up "Walking Through Walls," but this wasn't any old performance -- it brought out Grant-Lee Phillips from the inky shadows! Matt Chamberlain was also called to the stage, but he didn't actually show up. I would've welcomed his appearance, but honestly, Jon and Grant bring all you need for a good time (though it never hurts if, say, Robyn Hitchcock hangs around too).

Grant's first two songs were both Bowie tracks, but only one ("Cracked Actor") was delivered in anything resembling a traditional approach. The other selection was channeled through Willie Nelson, which should be familiar to anyone who's seen Grant at Aimee Mann's Christmas shows. Grant called it Willie Stardust, aka the Thin White Red Headed Stranger, and you could barely believe your ears as he worked both characters at the same time.

The decisions were up to Grant at this point, and he chose well. I was glad to hear one Grant Lee Buffalo song in the set, and the Smiths and T. Rex were not unexpected. The big surprise for me was Grant's opting for the Decemberists. Of course, Sara Watkins has been touring with the band, so the Largo connection is there, but actually hearing a song at Largo? It was a first for me at least, even if I had to check my iPod to figure out where it placed in the Crane Wife song cycle (No. 3, for the record). As for Jon, I have no idea if he'd heard the song before this outing, but he picked up on the chords in no time at all to accompany Grant on piano.

Once more, Jon asked for requests, this time to end the set on his own. The Pixies quote was minuscule at best before Jon settled into "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes." The studio version is all about the mellotron, but Jon zeroed in on the guitar tonight and, overall, kept it spare and underplayed -- which probably conflicts with my next observation because I loved the almost gothic sound he created, with huge, eerie heights of guitar. Hail the shoegazers!

We scooted over to the Little Room, and despite the initial wave of interest, the place wasn't even half full by the time the second set started. Margaret Cho and Grant-Lee Phillips returned with lots of chatter and a couple of songs from Margaret's record. This wasn't the first time I've heard Margaret sing, but I was surprised by how good she sounded. The hilarious lyrics were a given, of course.

They brought up Benmont Tench for an Emmylou Harris favorite, then jumped genres with a major discussion about Bob Mould -- one of my heroes, as regular readers know. It turns out Margaret and Grant are two of the acts slated for a tribute to Bob, set to take place at Disney Hall in November. Other artists include Dave Grohl (Bob recently played with the Foo Fighters on Conan and guested on their new record), Best Coast, Ryan Adams, and Ben Gibbard, who brought up Bob at a show in San Francisco earlier this year. (I was there!) They punctuated their chatter with their version of an old Sugar song.

Jon did, in fact, show up for a final song with Margaret, which I first heard a while back. Though the element of surprise didn't figure tonight, the anticipation of hearing the lyrics "I'm Margaret fucking Cho" was just as sweet.

Set 1
--Margaret Cho opener

--piano
--How Much Is That Doggie in the Window
--?
--Over Our Heads
--Maple Leaf Rag
--Meaningless
--It Could Happen to You
--Piece of You
--Strings That Tie to You
--That's Just What You Are
--Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
--Love of My Life So Far
--Freebird
--Walking Through Walls

w/ Grant-Lee Phillips
--Cracked Actor
--Ziggy Stardust
--You Just Have to Be Crazy
--Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me
--The Crane Wife 3
--Ballrooms of Mars

--Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes

Set 2
Margaret and Grant-Lee
--Eat Shit and Die
--Asian Adjacent
--Two More Bottles of Wine [with Benmont Tench]
--Favorite Thing
--Enemies [with Jon Brion]

See also:
» september gurls
» i'm happy, hope you're happy too
» if there's a star above
» scraping paper to documen
» your favorite thing
» no matter what the future brings

i'm happy, hope you're happy too

At my day job, we have a lot of fun concocting stories for April Fools' Day, but I'm less enthused when those jokes affect my areas of interest. Fortunately, the Largo show featuring Robyn Hitchcock, Grant-Lee Phillips, and Jon Brion scheduled for April 1 was as serious as a heart attack--albeit without any of the medical complications and delivering all the physiological benefits that a cardiac episode ordinarily takes away.

Robyn Hitchcock, Grant-Lee Phillips, and Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, April 1, 2011: I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but many years ago, I had the great fortune to catch a set by these three musicians at the old Largo. (Bwahahahahaha! As if I haven't trotted out that memory at every possible opportunity.) In the intervening years, Robyn, Grant, and Jon have flitted in and out of various combinations to play together at Largo and elsewhere, but if my memory serves me well, this may be the first time in a long time this particular trio has convened for a paying audience, and it could be their only co-headlining show ever.

In any case, the stage seemed set for an extravaganza; it was well stocked with a range of microphones, a full drum kit, a chair, and a good sampling of Jon Brion's gear, including the vibes and his video projectors. It should come as little surprise that much of the same crew from Robyn's show in the Little Room the night before reassembled and took their places. As for the chair, Flanny had referenced each musician's recent bout with leg/foot/knee problems. Grant, it turned out, had been recuperating from an Achilles' tendon injury, so the single seat was reserved for him.

The opened with "Queen Elvis," each musician trickling in without haste. Jon was first out, settling down at the piano, and Bill, Robyn, Grant, and Sean followed, armed with their instruments, in roughly that order. Once more, Robyn requested a violin solo of Jon--yes, on piano--and he delivered. They then thanked us and left the stage.

I guess our applause drowned out our laughter; in any case, we convinced them to return, and once again, Jon emerged first. He broke out the video projectors for a performance of "Strings That Tie to You" featuring Andres Segovia and Sonny Rollins, as he had at his own show the week before. I'm sure you could pick out a wealth of differences between the two versions if you heard them side by side, but for me, the main development were heard in Sonny's contributions, which worked better tonight than just one week previously.

Jon left the stage to make room for Grant, who caught us up on the happenings in his life in hilarious fashion. I'll paraphrase, but he reported reading up on Achilles' tendon terror blogs, streaming peak oil documentaries on Netflix, and popping an occasional Ambien, all in preparation for some online shopping. I've now succeeded in killing two grand memories from a couple of great shows, but take my word that Grant's version was delightful and laugh-out-loud funny. (Also, be prepared for more jokes to get lost in translation in the paragraphs to follow.) Anyway, Grant performed a couple of songs from his solo repertoire before vacating for Robyn.

Robyn returned with both Bill Rieflin and Sean Nelson; Jon was soon recruited as well. Robyn's first order of business was to instruct Jon to make sitar noises, and the latter happily obliged. Robyn also requested a certain harmonic convergence of Bill, while Sean was moved to the high hat. This unusual instrumentation led to "I Often Dream of Trains," one of Robyn's classics. Robyn concluded his solo spotlight with "Simple Twist of Fate," which may or may not be a new staple of his sets. Though he betrayed a minor flub on this notoriously lengthy tune, he caught himself and proceeded to the end of the countless choruses.

Finally, the entire band reconvened onstage and joked about their reunion tour. But before we could get to the music, Robyn and Jon engaged in a rambling riff about alchemy involving Guinness and Coca Cola. I report this because the final words of this exchange were "precious metals," which Grant quickly turned into a a request to play a song from that genre. (I told you I was going to butcher every funny thing they said onstage.)

Jon jumped at this suggestion and kicked off "Smoke on the Water" on the vibes, and Robyn added what I think are completely off-the-cuff lyrics. That is, I'm pretty sure it's not a real song or at least it wasn't until that night. This soon progressed to Grant providing an acoustic guitar score to Robyn's dance moves, followed by Grant's best zinger in a night filled with lots of Grant's zingers, his new nickname for the behatted Jon Brion: Henry Fonda.

For several minutes, the room roared with laughter, but the giggles and guffaws eventually died down and the music resumed, this time with Grant's "Don't Look Down," which I believe was a request from Henry Jon himself. Even better, Jon added a light dusting of vibes to this dreamy tune.

After a short meeting with Bill regarding arrangements and the like, Robyn led the band through Bowie's "Quicksand," followed by a detailed treatise on Canada and the northern border states. Bill even played electric guitar on this one ("Quicksand," that is--not the treatise)! Then the baton returned to Grant for "Strangest Thing," a request from the audience. The musical chairs continued apace, as Robyn manned the piano for this tune.

With some hesitation on Jon's part and a little prodding by the others, Jon chipped in a tune, "Same Mistakes." I suspect he was having a fine enough time in his role as a backing player, the territory he had staked out the night before at Robyn's show in the Little Room, and felt little need to grab the spotlight. However, this seeming trepidation didn't stop him from coaching the band members through the exact cadence he wanted, resulting in a much more pronounced waltz-time version of the track.

For the next song, Jon moved back to piano and Sean Nelson enjoyed a larger role than he had much of the evening for the song "Dismal City," as well he should've. As Robyn explained, the song was featured in Sean's recent film.

The reportage becomes incredibly suspect at this point because there's no way I can accurately describe what happened next. All I know is that Robyn asked the audience to yell out "bingo," and we did, but not to an overwhelming degree. The side I sat on (stage right) was assigned the "bingo" chant, while Robyn asked for a letter from the audience. A woman in the front row offered "A," and soon her section was assigned the accompanying chant, though I could almost swear she was the only one who partook. Finally, Robyn asked for a third sound, and the final section of the room shouted out "FF." We were commanded to yell out our portions in time, but it soon devolved into random noises, helmed happily by Robyn.

And somehow this led into a Doors/Who/Lennon rock block. Robyn kicked it off with Doors, and in the huge rock landscape scared up by the band, Jon and Sean snuck in a couple lines of "My Generation." Eventually, they dovetailed into Lennon's "Well Well Well" not once but twice. In between the two takes, Jon explained to Robyn how he had sung it in a certain key, then introduced him to the key that worked better with his voice. Between Jon's tutorials on "Well Well Well" and "Same Mistakes," I think we in the audience may have earned college credit in musicology!

Grant's "Heavenly" soothed the room, but Jon brought the temperature up a notch with an especially jangly "Knock Yourself Out." I heard a railroad rhythm to this arrangement, as well as hints of the Kingston Trio and Buddy Holly in its clipped pacing. The pendulum swung back to Robyn; he chose "I Feel Beautiful," though it may have also been an audience request. Robyn reminded Jon of his marxophone solo on the tune, and once again, Jon pulled it off, this time on electric guitar.

The musicians set off on a celestial-inspired two-fer, with Grant's cover of "Under the Milky Way," one of the most perfect pop singles of all time (IMHO) and Robyn's own "Full Moon in My Soul." If I remember correctly, the good folks at Largo even worked out a lovely blue lighting scheme for the stage, at the performers' request. Now that I've typed out that sentence, it occurs to me the color cues may have moved Robyn to his next choice, "Blue Suede Shoes," only done v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. Bless the band for playing along--and Jon for jumping right in with Tuvan throat singing at Robyn's behest.

In an 180-degree turn, "John Wesley Harding" was as traditional as they come, complete with what sounded like Robyn's attempt at Dylan's accent. But in the back-and-forth nature of the night, they followed up with--I believe--a spontaneous composition that began with a request to the audience for a key (F sharp minor), then erupted into a heavy, cock rock anthem complete with nonsensical lyrics. I jotted down "Heavy birds got heavy features" and "suffocates my trilby," but come to think of it, they could very well come from a classic Robyn song.

Robyn's question to Grant about his favorite part of Canada resulted in "Riders on the Moose," which sounded exactly as you might imagine. Warning: It wouldn't be the last the Doors reference of the night.

On the absurdist tip, they tore into "Maxwell's Silver Hammer," only to have Robyn interrupt it because (he said) it was so bad. Grant took up the slack and prescribed a sing-along for the audience. I'll never turn down the chance to hear "Walk Away Renee" at Largo, but truth be told, the verses didn't exactly roll off the tongue for everyone in the audience. We killed it on the chorus, though! Also, for some reason, I thought for sure we'd get "Tainted Love" at that moment, but I was clearly mistaken.

Robyn's own "Saturday Groovers" gave Sean another chance to pipe up loud and clear. It also placed Jon at the piano, where he took the reins for the last song of the main set. He cued up a video of a person shushing the camera and brought in Leon Theremin. Bill soon provided a beat for them to work with, and Robyn turned it all into "Back Door Man." Somehow, Robyn and Sean made their way to "Me and Julio," Jon called up Leonard Bernstein, and Robyn may have tied it all up with "You're Gonna Need Somebody on Your Bonds." (Please note that I've never heard that last song before, but that's what my scribbles say.)

Though they fooled us once already, we welcomed them back for an encore, and I swear I was ready to request the very same song--partly because I knew they could do it--if the opportunity arose. I didn't have to since they chose "Ashes to Ashes"--my ultimate teen angst anthem--on their own accord. Grant handled the lead vocals, with plenty of help from his fellow musicians. I also loved how Jon managed to coax out the song's trademark wobbly keyboard bits from his arsenal of consoles, but they could've banged it out on mouth harp and a set of house keys and I would've still left beaming.

Setlist
--Queen Elvis °

"reunion"
--She's at It Again *
--Strings That Tie to You *
--Little Moon ^
--Susan Little ^
--I Often Dream of Trains °
--Simple Twist of Fate °
--Smoke on the Water/improv °
--Don't Look Down ^
--Quicksand °
--Strangest Thing ^
--Same Mistakes *
--Dismal City °
--My Wild Love/My Generation/Well Well Well °
--Well Well Well °
--Heavenly ^
--Knock Yourself Out *
--I Feel Beautiful °
--Under the Milky Way ^
--Full Moon in My Soul °
--Blue Suede Shoes °
--John Wesley Harding °
--improv? °
--Riders on the Moose (?) °
--Maxwell's Silver Hammer °
--Walk Away Renee ^
--Saturday Groovers °
--Back Door Man °
--Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard °

encore
--Ashes to Ashes ^

* = Jon lead vocals
^ = Grant lead vocals
° = Robyn lead vocals

See also:
» Take Me Home, Country Pigeon
» there's a band playing on the radio
» if my eyes don't deceive me
» simple twist of fate

the song went on forever

For returning readers, here's the Largo Line Watch, April Edition: Jon Brion's show for this month was very well attended, but not sold out. All comers were welcome. Now, your regularly scheduled concert recap awaits below.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, April 23, 2010: Nostalgia is kind of my kryptonite, but that doesn't preclude me from recognizing and enjoying an old-school type of night at Largo when I hear it. For starters, there was Jon's appearance at the top of the set to bring out an opener--the first I've seen for quite some time, not just at the Coronet, but even dating back to the last several years of performances at Largo's former Fairfax address.

This rare honor went to Alain Johannes, whom Jon called an old friend and one of his favorite guitarists. (For the record, Jon mentioned one other guitarist in this elite group: Nels Cline.) In this setting, Alain switched among a few guitars, most notably a cigar box model. As acoustic arrangements, his songs showed undeniable passion, but his guitar playing shined brightest. On one track, "Spiders" (no relation to that tune by my favorite band), his inspiration revealed itself early on, in the form of refined fingerpicking that brought to mind an arachnid's careful, creeping steps. In all, he played perhaps a dozen songs to impressive affect.

I have to admit that I'd never heard of Alain before he took the stage, but a quick round of Googling after the gig shed light on Flanny's off-hand comment about Them Crooked Vultures. In his remarks following Alain's performance and preceding Jon's turn, Flanny also revealed how to land an opening slot at Largo:

• Don't ask to be an opener.


• Drink up all the Stella Artois you can, especially if it's administered by Jon and Flanny himself.


• Be the nicest fucking guy in the world.

On that note, Jon's set commenced, with a modern-sounding piano piece that gave way to "Someone Else's Problem Now," followed by "She's At It Again" on electric guitar. I've been fixated on interpreting the latter in an early-'80s style, but now that I've heard it several times, I'm starting to get a better idea of its versatility and its potential retooling in any number of genres. I swear, I'm usually a much less proactive listener, but all these Jon Brion shows may have finally planted some seeds in my brain.

The next selection filled me with a slight sense of dread, as Jon's rendition of "Round Midnight" can easily extend into double-digit durations. Also, it's often a harbinger of a less than sunny show. No need to worry tonight, at least on one count--it was still an epic, one of many we'd hear, but as Jon cheerily reported, he simply wanted to test out a fuzzbox.

A couple of tunes later, Jon turned on the video mixers, layering, in progression, a Leonard Bernstein-led orchestra, Leon Theremin, and a Mexican band, then adding his own touches on Chamberlin. I should mention it's important to keep in mind the sometimes impressionistic links between the video segments and Jon's eventual song selections; that is, it's not always a chord or a melody that tie them together. It's often a more ephemeral quality.

This seemed to be the M.O. tonight. For a long stretch, I couldn't figure out where Jon was going with this segment, but he eventually landed on "Ruin My Day." I can't vouch for his motivation, but my guess is that the forlorn lyrics in the Mexican song sparked this pick and, in turn, the segue into "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want." All three songs share a doleful, self-aware tone--consider it a study in sadness times three.

From here, Jon asked for requests, starting with a couple of Zombies titles. For the first, "Time of the Season," he opted for the vibes (remarkably repaired after last month's debacle) and insisted that we sing along, which is exactly what we did, down to the syncopated exhalations that set the song's pace. As you might imagine, we weren't too shabby with the call and response either, if you didn't mind the inevitable giggles that accompanied our contributions.

Moving on from the Zombies, Jon chose, in his words, the "most unlikely" request as his next cover to "reinvent as a rock song," for his own "amusement." The drums came first, with an emphatic rhythm that brought to mind prime Attractions-era Elvis Costello and established the tune's power-pop direction. Without a doubt, "As Time Goes By" was a fantastic and bona fide Jon Brion interpretation of an old standard, but a part of me couldn't stave off the vision of a fourth-wave emo band aping the treatment when a superfluous remake of Casablanca is inevitably greenlit, starring whichever Mouseketeer has been deemed the nation's teenage idol. (Ed: Maybe you should ease up on the caffeine.)

You could chalk up "As Time Goes By" as the night's second epic, and we'd soon settle in for the third and final saga of the evening. "Here We Go" kicked off inauspiciously, but soon shaped up as a musical petri dish, which has been the pattern for at least the last few months. I recall first hearing an experimental take on this song last December and again in January. Jon expanded on this exploration, cooking up a 30-minute operation that brought in the EMS Synthi, drum loops, and tons of guitar.

The secret ingredient tonight was Alain Johannes, summoned from whatever corner of Largo in which he'd been cooling his heels. If Alain's opening set hadn't convinced you of his inherent talent, you had to believe it by the time Jon slid the guitar over his shoulders and left him to do his thing. Without hesitation, Alain stepped up--midsong, no less--and drew out some of the most evocative and poignant notes I've ever heard in "Here We Go."

Jon, meanwhile, warmed up the video mixers again, cuing up footage of Jacques Brel, '40s-era women singers, Eric Clapton, Buddy Guy, Leonard Bernstein, a Cajun fiddler, Louie Bellson, and a ballerina; though most of those clips felt like slapdash selections, the Cajun fiddler complemented the song beautifully. Jon also supplied a touch of Chamberlin, and at the end, he controlled the pedals while Alain remained on guitar. He returned for a quick encore of "Knock Yourself Out," then it was onto the Little Room for the second set.

I understand why people can't always make it to the second set: babysitters, exhaustion, overload, hot dates. I guess I'm also thankful the crowd thins out, but I still think they're missing out big time. If nothing else, those who mourn the old Fairfax space will love the Little Room, which is an even more intimate arena, if you can believe it.

In the wake of that big, booming set in the main theater, this intimacy came into sharp focus during Jon's second show. For his part, instead of obfuscating his role, as has been his wont for the past several months, Jon settled in at the piano and simply played. It took me about 36 hours to figure out the opening instrumental (jazz era + me - lyrics = fail), but I had less success identifying a couple of other songs. The second instrumental sounded like one of Jon's soundtrack pieces, though I'm not sure which, and the third might be a new original--or my Googling could use some work.

I haven't heard "I Believe She's Lying" on acoustic guitar in--well, maybe ever. I think the same goes for "Girl I Knew." I'd hold up the entirety of the show up to this point as a perfect encapsulation of Jon's range, from the heroic to the hushed, and I probably could've gone home happy after just this batch of songs--but there was more to come.

Kicking it old school once more, Jon invited to the stage Grant-Lee Phillips, who's been missing from Largo for far too long, and the two quickly fell into their trademark goofy energy. Jon urged Grant into a downtempo take on one of the Beatles' more frenetic numbers, and while Jon grabbed lead singer duties on "Elenore," something in the song's backing vocals led Grant to "How Deep Is Your Love," delivered in the style of the Barry Gibb Talk Show:



"Oh Yoko" became a partial comedy too, when Grant ad-libbed some lyrics ("In the middle of a text") and the two of them faked a harmonica solo without a harmonica.

With the addition of Benmont Tench and a sartorial save by Griffee, the trio became Men With Hats, and their first order of business was not "Safety Dance," but rather "Visions of Johanna"--flat-out fabulous with Grant's vocals wrapped around all 17 verses. These three pros finished out the set with a few more classics, concluding with "Lady Stardust" and its deliciously appropriate lyrics.

Set 1
--Alain Johannes opener
--piano
--Someone Else's Problem Now
--She's At It Again
--Round Midnight
--Happy with You
--Please Stay Away from Me
--Ruin My Day/Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want
--Time of the Season
--This Will Be Our Year
--As Time Goes By
--Here We Go

encore
--Knock Yourself Out

Set 2
--I Got It Bad (And That Ain't Good)
--instrumental
--new song?
--I Believe She's Lying
--Same Mistakes
--Girl I Knew

with Grant-Lee Phillips
--Nightbirds
--Help
--Elenore
--How Deep Is Your Love
--Sunday Morning
--Oh Yoko

with Grant-Lee Phillips and Benmont Tench
--Visions of Johanna
--Benmont boogie
--Judy Blue Eyes
--Lady Stardust

See also:
» manifestation of desire
» everybody's gotta learn sometimes
» it's the end of the things you know
» no matter what the future brings

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

mercy sakes alive

The vague intention to attend Paul F. Tompkins's show at Largo became a set plan after we learned the significance of this gig, Paul's last--for a while--at Largo.

The Paul F. Tompkins Show, Largo at the Coronet, September 9, 2008: Generally, I'm not big on sentimentality; I try to live by the idea that no matter what grand times have transpired, there's so much good stuff waiting to be discovered or cultivated that you're doing yourself a disservice when you chain yourself to the past. But that tenet is severely tested by events such as this one, when it seems all but impossible to not grow wistful over shared memories.

Of course, Largo has undergone one rather major change this year, and it was in those last days on Fairfax that I saw my one other official Paul F. Tompkins Show, though he's been a welcome presence on several occasions at gigs by other artists. In fact, he may have even stolen the spotlight from Aimee Mann earlier this summer...

Aimee couldn't make it for this show (something about a tour), but a host of other Largo-centric musical talent dropped in for Paul's farewell party. Sara Watkins joined Paul's usual backing band, headed by Eban Schletter, for the opening number, the Arcade Fire song "Keep the Car Running," crooned by Paul himself. Later in the show, Grant-Lee Phillips tested out two new tracks, and at the end, they all reconvened for a couple of travel-related songs to send Paul on his way: a mashup of "Convoy" and "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." In addition to handling most of the vocal duties, Paul and Grant treated us to a dash of do-si-do till they went dizzy (to understandably comical effect). Unfortunately, they didn't reprise their ode to Shark Week, one of the more recent Largo memories that I'm forever chasing, so I'm left nursing that recollection in my mind instead.

As the capper, Paul stuck to his trademark tune, "Danny Boy," though with a nod to Billy Joel thrown in at the end. Tonight, it was easy to discern the palpable pathos in his voice and delivery--no joke.

Though the Greg Proops Chat Show is still fresh in my memory, I know it would be dumb to compare the two comics. Instead, I prefer to share the opinion of another funny guy in regard to tonight's headliner. Take it away, John Hodgman, as quoted in GQ:

Paul F. Tompkins, by contrast, owns his own comedy tuxedo. He tells the kind of well-tailored luxuriously subtle jokes that I wish my brain could produce. (He also speaks with perfect diction, which we all know is hilarious.)

Tonight's comedy couture covered such topics as his landlord, sweatshops, bikers, and the New York housing market, to name a few. That's sort of all I can tell you because the beauty of Paul F. Tompkins's comedy is that there's never really a punchline; you just get swept up in the absurdity of his stories, and you love it. And his diction, it goes without saying.

Perhaps the biggest irony of Paul's move is that he was one of the biggest boosters of Largo at the Coronet, back when doubts and predictions of doom reigned. Largo's loss is Best Week Ever's gain, and Paul halfway shot down any ideas about L.A. shows for the foreseeable future. Then again, he didn't rule them out completely either. Like many others, I hope that this won't be the last we'll see of him on the West Coast, but I also realize he left us with words to live by:

So keep the bugs off yer glass
An' the bears off yer tail
We gonna catch ya on the flip-flop

Over and out, good buddy.

See also:
» this old nightclub stole my youth
» probably more like hanging around
» hidden hand
» part of everyone's rite of passage

the shining hour

I missed Grant-Lee Phillips's gig in San Francisco--that city where I live--a couple of weeks ago. So much for supporting touring musicians. But on the other hand, once you go Largo, you might as well issue an embargo...on other venues. (Groan.) Errrr, I'll leave the pithy catchphrases to those who know how to craft them and stick with overlong concert narrations instead. See below.

Grant-Lee Phillips and Friends, Largo at the Coronet, June 28, 2008: These days, I'm always on the lookout for shows to append to my Friday night plans, but once upon a time, you were more likely to find me at Largo on Saturdays to take in the gorgeous vocal (and 12-string) stylings of Grant-Lee Phillips. However, I've droned on far too often about my Largo Journey of Discovery, so let's skip the history lecture.

Anyhoo, with that pattern established, is it any wonder that my Largo at Coronet plans would soon be augmented with other shows? Of course not! Look out, Little Room! (Eventually.)

Opening for Grant was a clutch of Largo regulars: Sara and Sean Watkins, Luke Bolla, and Greg Leisz. They tried out old and new songs, and announced an as-yet unnamed new project they were working on with four other musicians, many of them staples of the Largo stage and luminaries in their own right. A few of the tunes had a stronger bluegrass feel than the more straightforward folk songs they seem to favor at Largo, but considering there were two fiddles and one pedal steel present, you had to expect as much.

Once they dispersed, it was time for the headliner. As a solo artist, Grant has enjoyed a good deal of freedom, sometimes performing entirely on his own, other times with backing players. In the new room, it made sense to have support, and lending their talents to Grant's songs tonight were Jamie Edwards, more often seen accompanying Aimee Mann on piano, and a few songs in, Eric Gorfain of the Section Quartet as well. Together, they formed yet another of Largo's one-night-only trios, in a configuration that was new to me, a longtime Grant watcher.

This very un-rock trio took on Grant's catalog, from the folksy to the glam to the rocking, emphasizing the soul in Grant's already emotive songs. Grant initially led the way, but he quickly opened up the floor to audience requests. I usually come to Largo with a request in mind, and Grant makes it especially easy, as I have several strong preferences and sentimental favorites among his recordings. Thus, I got in the first suggestion for "Stars 'n' Stripes," my most beloved Grant Lee Buffalo song. Ordinarily, I wouldn't delve so deep into the catalog early on, but Grant himself had broken out a few gems from Fuzzy anyway, including the eponymous track and "The Hook." My desert-island disc Mighty Joe Moon got a helluva workout too, but the audience also called for tons of solo selections, such as "Heavenly" and "Fountain of Youth," both of which Grant took up.

I was particularly interested in seeing how Jamie would fare under these conditions. I love Aimee Mann's music, but her live show, even at Largo, isn't known for its spontaneity; in comparison, Grant's impromptu approach could be daunting. No sweat, apparently--though he consulted a loose-leaf notebook filled with sheet music for much of the show, Jamie also freestyled from time to time, especially on the unplanned audience requests. I wish I could remember on which song Grant subtly encouraged him to stretch out--I'm pretty sure it was an older title--but Jamie obliged, gracing the tune with a light, charming stroke.

Eric was less of a question mark, as anyone who knows his work with the Section Quartet can tell you. Also, there's the matter of his having guested on a couple of Grant's albums and his long association with several of Largo's best-known talents. Eric's spotlight blazed during "The Shining Hour," when Sara and Luke reappeared. Each violinist turned in a distinctive solo spin on the old Grant Lee Buffalo song, but I can assure you that Eric's interpretation was the most rawk of the three.

When Largo's move to the Coronet was announced, we show-goers fretted about procedures, prices, general ambiance, and a million more details. Frankly, it never occurred to me that the artists too would have to plan accordingly. My guess is that Grant had taken it into consideration.

Of course, he started by bringing on Jamie and Eric, who were later joined by Greg Leisz, then Bill Bonk from GLB's later years, and eventually Sara and Luke, as mentioned above. Sean Watkins hopped on toward the end too, and fashionably late, Benmont Tench was the final guest, arriving in time for a couple of songs. This nine-piece hootenanny launched into Grant's own "Truly Truly," then closed it out with the traditional stomper "Hop High My Lulu Girl." Though I've seen Grant as part of some major supergroups at Largo, his own shows have usually been mellower affairs, so it was great to see him tap some of the talent that the Largo family has to offer--certainly he's been there for many of them as well.

See also:
» a change might be a thing to try
» Take Me Home, Country Pigeon
» it's not going to stop

a change might be a thing to try

The toughest part of coping with Largo at the Coronet hits at the end of the work week, when I finally let myself admit that I can't make it to the Jon Brion show, some 400 miles away, that evening. What is this--2005?!! I'm steeling myself for the inevitability of being MIA when some musician or another--OK, David Rawlings--pops in for visit, but I also know it's an exercise in denial. TGIF, my ass!

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, June 27, 2008: Reality, however, couldn't impinge on this weekend's plans, as I made my latest trip to Largo this month. Honestly, I have some limits, though. I mean, I didn't drop in last weekend for the Largo film premiere. See? Total self-control!

I've been pretty sanguine about Largo's move from Fairfax to the Coronet. After all, if you've followed any musician's career over the years, you've seen (when plans proceed accordingly) said artist graduate from supporting slots to headlining gigs, from bars to clubs to theaters and so on. Of course, it's entirely your choice whether to follow this trajectory, and lord knows the vast majority of musicians lose me before they even make it to the Fillmore. For the ones I really like, though, I've battled unrelenting wind chill, barometer-busting heat, and small-town America, all for the service of a gig. In comparison, Largo's move to a 300-capacity theater is small potatoes.

Not that I necessarily felt that way a few weeks ago at Jon's first show in the new room. I mean, I wasn't prepping the obituary, but the show's hits and misses gave me pause. It wasn't the ideal debut, but it'd take more than one wonky night to drive me away. In fact, it would probably take a whole string of busts, police intervention, and a plague of locusts to shut me out.

As it turned out, I had absolutely nothing to fear. Though the show itself started on familiar footing with lots of piano improv, Jon just sounded better than those few weeks before. Additionally, he exuded bonhomie, despite also downing coffee like, well, Guinness. Thus, he giggled at himself for sneaking in the Space Odyssey theme, borrowed from the "Ashes to Ashes" mold for "Over Our Heads," inserted a Supertramp-like (can I even name two Supertramp songs?!) piano breakdown on the keys-and-harmonica-based "Roll with You," and rung in the summer with "O Christmas Tree" on solo electric guitar.

He took a couple of requests for his own tunes, and just as "Walking Through Walls" got under way with that huge helping of drums, it hit me that the new digs were going to work out after all. Again, he sounded amazing and dug in doggedly, and you could feel it through the whole room.

The next instrumental round-robin encompassed "Here We Go," preceded by what sounded like an old standard; the bass-and-harmonica-driven "That's Just What You Are," which Jon also adorned with some falsetto trills toward the end; and "irrational rocking" in the form of his own "Get Over Yourself."

There was definitely a mischievous air to the show, further amplified when Jon took a couple of animal-shaped items off the celeste and wound them up. Not just cute toys or, perhaps, beloved companions, they were music boxes that spun to the tune of "On Top of the World," leading Jon to take it up on piano and vocoder for a line or two. This, in turn, triggered a long deconstruction of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," which Jon simultaneously reveled in ("that was fun") and reprimanded himself for ("oh no, it's me!") after the workout. The piano remained the focus for much of the rest of the set, as Jon dispatched three more of his own songs at the bench.

For the near-finale, he requested a familiar element (a sing-along), but in a manner I hadn't seen at the old place. He explained that at the Coronet, they could, ironically, do things that made the room feel more intimate than they ever achieved at the old spot. And to illustrate his point, he picked up an acoustic guitar, perched on a monitor at the front of the stage, and went completely unplugged, letting us fill in the melodies, harmonies, and all the magical bits of a couple of Beatles songs. The vocal fills were indeed gorgeous on "Here, There and Everywhere," and though less subtle, "I'll Be Back" was no slouch either. I was already feeling the love much earlier in the show, but this double play sealed it. Extending our reverie, Jon closed out with "random harmonium" before the break.

The second set opened with a couple of Jon's numbers, including my suggestion for "Nothing Between Us," this time accompanied by the music boxes. Requests for Jon's work had been strong all night, but "Strings That Tie to You" marked the last of his originals we'd hear for the evening.

The first two covers of the set couldn't be more divergent in style, from the short, bemused take on "Sgt. Pepper's" to the jeremiad known as "You Don't Know What Love Is." We tried our hardest to harness the power of our voices once again for "Good Vibrations," but it paled (though still delighted) in comparison to the Beatles rock block earlier that evening.

Jon delivered his own harangue on Guns 'n' Roses when the request for "Welcome to the Jungle" popped up, though he gave it quick whirl on the banjo anyway. Despite what sounded like a protest of doing "a lot of fucking Beatles tonight," he obliged the "Sexy Sadie" request as well.

I think it was around this point that Jon called out a bunch of familiar names, most of whom weren't around, but one turned up: Sebastian Steinberg. They recruited a young, lanky drummer from the audience and tore into a selection of Hendrix songs, even if Jon skimmed over some of the lyrics to "Wind Cries Mary." A different drummer from the audience beat Tom Biller (I think) to the stage for the T. Rex tune, but no substitutions would be allowed for the next guest: Grant-Lee Phillips, who clambered up midsong to lend it a little piano and backing vocals.

As soon as he got the chance, Jon removed the guitar from his frame and draped it over Grant's shoulders, while he moved back to the drums and sort of commanded Grant to come up with something. I'm not sure if Grant's next move was an original song or a cover, but it was a jangly tune that sounded great.

The next act was slightly more theatrical, as all eyes went to the back of the room, we craned our necks, and the spotlight followed: Benmont Tench had arrived, after Jon had inquired several times. Exhibiting that semi-swagger that's become his norm lately, Benmont took over the mic for a bluesy turn before planting himself at the piano for his better-known abilities. The floor was all his, as even the performers onstage settled into the background to listen in. Following Benmont's showcase, the four-piece carried off "Benny and the Jets," then brought Sean Watkins in to join them.

For this portion of the evening, Jon made some adjustments, ensuring everyone had an acoustic guitar and setting up the old-fashioned microphone for them to gather around. This was, in a way, an extension of the acoustic set we heard earlier. Jon kicked it off with "Positively 4th Street," then invited Sean to take up "Write Myself a Letter," complete with a solo opportunity for each musician.

As requests rolled in, the woman who asked for "'Train Bound for Glory' into 'Monster Mash'" may not have lucked out if Benmont hadn't picked up on it. However, the execution fell to Grant, and I'm going to have to leave it at that because I can't hope to describe it, except to say it was hilarious and spot-on.

The room had fully dispensed of reverence now, so while "Mother's Little Helper" was pretty traditional, "Suspicious Minds" may have gone overboard in that direction, with Grant aping Elvis's delivery to a T--then carrying over the same vocal style to "Night Moves," which sent both Jon and Benmont into spasms of laughter mixed with groans of horror. Benmont composed himself enough to guide them over to "Crimson and Clover," which Jon and Grant welcomed with various techniques for re-creating that wobbling, doppler-esque effect for the backing vocals (fanning the air, thumping their chests, pinching their throats, for example).

The next tune might've been Bowie's "Andy Warhol," but don't quote me on that. I'm, however, confident in reporting the rest of the set, which comprised all '80s synth pop. The Men Without Hats/Dexy's Midnight Runners medley was a mere appetizer as they delved into Human League with vocals provided by Mike, Largo's favorite enforcer, switching off with all the girls in the room, as the song required. (Also, I got a secret thrill from remembering that I requested it some months ago). The final song, Jon admitted, was "cheating," but that didn't stop anyone from joining in anyway.

I had halfway prepared a carefully worded assessment of the room's progress, but no need--it's on! The good folks on La Cienega have done their homework and created yet another magical venue. To borrow a certain phrase we've been hearing a lot of lately, this is a change we can believe in.

Set 1
--noodling/Thus Spake Zarathustra/more noodling
--Over Our Heads
--I'm on a Roll with You
--O Christmas Tree
--Knock Yourself Out
--Walking Through Walls
--Here We Go
--That's Just What You Are
--Get Over Yourself
--On Top of the World/Somewhere Over the Rainbow
--Ruin My Day
--Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way
--Stop the World
--Here There and Everywhere
--I'll Be Back
--"random harmonium"

Set 2
--Dead to the World
--Nothing Between Us
--You Don't Know What Love Is
--Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
--Strings That Tie to You
--Good Vibrations
--Welcome to the Jungle
--Sexy Sadie

with Sebastian Steinberg and Noah from the audience
--Happy Birthday
--Foxy Lady
--The Wind Cries Mary

with Grant-Lee Phillips, Sebastian Steinberg, and John from the audience
--Telegram Sam

with Grant-Lee Phillips and Sebastian Steinberg
--? [Grant]

with Benmont Tench, Grant-Lee Phillips, and Sebastian Steinberg
--?? [Benmont]
--Benmont piano extravaganza
--Benny and the Jets [Grant]

with Sean Watkins, Benmont Tench, Grant-Lee Phillips, and Sebastian Steinberg
--Positively 4th Street
--Write Myself a Letter [Sean]
--This Train Is Bound for Glory/Monster Mash
--Mother's Little Helper/Suspicious Minds/Night Moves [Benmont/Grant/Grant]
--Crimson and Clover [Benmont]
--?? [Grant]
--Safety Dance/Come On Eileen [Grant]
--Don't You Want Me [Mike + audience]
--Always Something There to Remind Me [Jon + audience]

See also:
» no one will be a stranger
» i remember standing by the wall
» i'm younger than that now

hidden hand

Going to a lot of shows tends to make me want to see more shows, even by artists I'm not stalking. Thus, it makes complete sense that in the midst of a sizable rock tourism jag, I'd try to shoehorn one or two more into the schedule. After all, Largo was a short drive up LaCienaga from LAX to Evonne's anyway--might as well stop in for Grant-Lee Phillips' show.

Grant-Lee Phillips, Largo, August 25, 2007: I'll skip the usual preamble about my longtime interest in Grant, except to say that the last show I attended left me a little disheartened. I'm usually the first person to say you should move on if an artist no longer interests you, but I realize that for music nerds such as myself, this medium and our associations with it can complicate matters. Quite simply, it makes me sad to think that maybe I can't get anything else from Grant's artistry, which led me down at least a few promising musical tracks through the ages.

Before that question could be answered, we were required to satisfy Largo's minimum order requirement, and we took the opportunity to gawk at Aimee Mann at the back of the room. We made out a couple of other familiar figures, though no one could decide if Michael Penn was with her; we eventually decided he wasn't.

One of the barflies turned out to be the night's opener: Paul F. Tompkins, whom I adore. He opened with a joke seemingly aimed directly at our table, pitting the residents of Los Angeles vs. those of San Francisco and New York. I can't comment on his characterization of New Yorkers, but he hit the nail on the head regarding the typical San Franciscan's disdain for our southern neighbors. Let it be known, though, that I may be the staunchest defender of the Southland that I know (as well I should, at this point).

He closed with his pie-vs.-cake debate, which I've heard before, but it's a question that deserves to be posed often. If I didn't hate typical comedy clubs so much, I'd see Paul's shows more often, but for now, I'll settle for occasional visits to Largo or the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater.

Time came for Grant to hit the stage, where he was joined by Paul Bryan and Jay Bellerose from his last touring incarnation. Their set comprised a fair sampling of much of Grant's work over the years, with a slight emphasis on Strangelet, the most recent release. For example, we heard "Fountain of Youth" featuring Jamie from Aimee's band on piano, and on "Calamity Jane," Grant wrung out a gorgeous sustain on electric guitar that I don't remember in the original version.

We also got a batch of wonderful Grant Lee Buffalo tunes, some by request ("Jupiter and Teardrop"), while others came more spontaneously. The aforementioned Jamie stuck around for "Truly Truly," but Grant took the lead on "Lady Godiva and Me" on electric guitar in a rendition and style that kept me guessing for longer than usual (I usually recognize the song immediately). Grant even turned out one new song that didn't yet have a title.

The showcase of the evening had to be the Grant-Paul F. Tompkins duet. Grant set the scene, asking for a summery vibe from Paul Bryan and reminiscing over the season's celebrations. He then called up Paul F. Tompkins, and the two revealed their tradition of getting together for Shark Week. Meanwhile, the beat had started to pick up behind them, and before we knew it, they were singing an original song about the Discovery Channel's popular series to the tune of "Mack the Knife." Grant and Paul dispensed all manner of shark facts and anecdotes, including mentions of hammerheads, "cartilaginous skeletons" (taken verbatim from the song!), and their multiple rows of teeth, while simultaneously outvamping the Rat Pack. If this reminds you in the least of their collaboration for Aimee Mann's Christmas show, you're on the right track.

Aimee, alas, remained in the shadows for the whole show and didn't grace the stage, which is somewhat understandable, given her recent three-night stand at the club. She hung out, however, to bolster her friends and colleagues.

The show definitely added at least a few more years to my Grant-Lee appreciation. Thanks, Largo, for reminding me of what he can deliver.

See also:
» Take Me Home, Country Pigeon
» it's all in good spirits
» it's not going to stop

wouldn't have it any other way

It's impossible to say whether Jon Brion's Friday residencies at Largo will ever return, either sooner or later, so it's more crucial than ever to see them when you can. At least, that's what I've been telling myself for the last year-plus when booking flights down south.

Jon Brion, Largo, July 20, 2007: Following Flanagan's opening invitation, Jon greeted us with a more familiar take on the Largo proprietor's introduction ("get your knickers in a twist") and jumped into a song directly inspired by the man's words. I love the idea of Jon doing "Let's Get It On," and it's requested often, but I have yet to hear him offer a straight take on it. Tonight was no different, as Jon went with the vocoder--and got plenty of laughs in the process. He stayed on the piano for "Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way," a relative rarity among his self-penned tracks, followed by a somber instrumental.

I guess Thursday night's technical problems had been resolved because upon asking for requests, Jon moved to the guitars, first rocking out on Gershwin, then an exquisite "Strings That Tie to You" (and making use of the loopers that had been absent Thursday). "Further Along" began on a Les Paul-like note before settling into heavier, more distorted territory, and I probably wouldn't have figured out the "short 'Rhapsody in Blue' with fuzz" if Jon hadn't cited it himself.

Back at the piano, Jon picked up on the twin requests for Kanye West and, depending on whom you ask, either Tom Waits or Randy Newman for a version of "Gold Digger," the likes of which I doubt we'll ever hear again. Following a straightforward "Itchycoo Park," Jon fanned out some so-called Cliff Notes for the next two songs, both midtempo numbers. The first he built up, and the second was solo piano. I can't find any info on either tune, which leads me to suspect they're originals. Though they didn't necessarily sound like unpopular pop, there was a wryness to the lyrics that could indicate Jon's touch. Rounding out this unindentifiable threesome was a great, rocking song that I've now heard at least three times, though its provenance continues to elude me.

"Here We Go" came through on the organ, which lent the song a grave and sobering air, in the process casting Jon's dulcet tones in greater relief. I definitely prefer the piano for this song; the organ doesn't do justice to the tune's trademark trill, but I won't say no to Jon's attempt at a reinterpretation.

Jon returned to the drums for a song build, and a verse or so in, his co-writer joined him. It was Grant-Lee Phillips, who actually needed lyrics printed off the Internet to help him remember the words. I think he even messed up a verse! In Grant's defense, it's probably been almost 10 years since he and Jon wrote this song. They shared vocals, guitar duties, and a mic on "Knock Yourself Out" (Grant again using lyrics procured from the Web), then switched to the piano (Grant) and organ (Jon) for two Grant Lee Buffalo numbers. The "cozy" fit, as noted by Grant, didn't seem to impede either artist, as both selections sounded great.

Jon next called on his top onstage collaborator of late, catching Benmont in the middle of a couple of libations. In addition to manning the keys, Benmont added backing vocals to "Pale Blue Eyes," though "Benny and the Jets" was all Grant--especially when he changed the chorus to "Benmont and the Jon." Speaking of, Jon took the mic for "Moonage Daydream," even appending a bar or so of "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" to the outro.

With Grant still on lead vocals, they recruited Gabe Wicher for a couple of Neil Young songs, drawing to a close Grant's contributions for the evening. Taking his place was Fiona Apple for her standard set of covers. I dunno--she still reminds me of an Olsen twin, albeit one with a voice. Besides, my eyes and ears zeroed in on Benmont as he nearly turned "Everyday" into a duet and played as gorgeous a piano solo as you can imagine during "Don't Get Around Much Anymore" and "Blue Skies." Gabe and Jon, however, were no slouches, particularly on their respective solos for "Walking After Midnight."

After Fiona left the stage, Gabe stuck around for a few more songs, if you count their rendition of "If I Only Had a Brain" (it's debatable). After much conferencing, they settled on a song that Gabe could sing: "Ruin My Day." Gabe claimed he didn't know all the lyrics, but he ended up asking for help from Jon only once, preceding the second verse. Through the rest of the song, it was all Gabe, gracing it with a touch of twang and a warm, homespun feel. Paul and I both found it weird to watch Jon play his own song while someone else sang it, but judging by the smile on Jon's face during Gabe's performance, the songwriter didn't seem to have a problem with the setup.

Gabe went back to the drums, and Jon and Benmont stuck to the keys for the final song, which turned out to be one of those classic tunes strongly associated with the Hammond: "Whiter Shade of Pale." David had requested half of it the night before, but I don't think he objected to hearing the full treatment tonight.

Setlist
--Let's Get It On
--Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way
--piano noodling
--Nice Work if You Can Get It
--Strings That Tie to You
--Further Along
--"short 'Rhapsody in Blue' with fuzz"
--Baby's in Black
--Gold Digger [in the style of Randy Newman]
--Itchycoo Park
--? [chorus: "Get over yourself"]
--? [lyrics: "Another trying day when you don't get your way..."]
--? [lyrics: "Happiness is overdue"]
--Here We Go

w/ Grant
--Walking Through Walls [vocals = Jon and Grant]
--Knock Yourself Out [vocals = Jon and Grant]
--Fuzzy [vocals = Grant]
--Happiness [GLB version; vocals = Grant]

w/ Grant and Benmont
--Pale Blue Eyes [vocals = Grant]
--Benmont and the Jon, a.k.a. Benny and the Jets [vocals = Grant]
--Moonage Daydream

w/ Grant, Benmont, and Gabe
--Cinnamon Girl [vocals = Grant]
--Ohio [vocals = Grant]

w/ Benmont and Fiona
--Everyday
--Don't Get Around Much Anymore
--Do Nothing Till You Hear from Me
--Walking after Midnight
--Blue Skies

w/ Benmont and Gabe
--If I Only Had a Brain
--Ruin My Day [vocals = Gabe]
--Whiter Shade of Pale

See also:
» Night 1: maybe i'm learning
» Night 3: i can come to my senses

it's all in good spirits

In my pre-rock tourist days, I was as crazy about Grant Lee Buffalo as a person could be, short of--errrr, doing what I do now when I'm crazy about a group or an artist. It was this impact that moved me to investigate Grant-Lee Phillips's solo work when the band broke up, and it continues to bring me back to his newest releases today.

Grant-Lee Phillips, Great American Music Hall, April 24, 2007: When I first saw this date on the Great American's calendar, I assumed that Grant was back in town for another round of promotion behind nineteeneighties, his collection of covers released last year. Little did I know that he had a new album of original material coming out! Thankfully, I was disabused of the notion in time, and this month's freelancing has been fruitful enough that I could afford a ticket to the show.

Last time I saw Grant, he was spreading holiday cheer as part of Aimee Mann's stable of merry elves. Of course, Christmas comes but once a year, and the vestiges of the season were gone, but he brought back at least one element of last December's shows to San Francisco: Paul Bryan, Aimee's longtime bassist, had joined Grant's crew. Rounding out the trio was Jay Bellerose, who apparently also has ties to Largo, Boston, and the talented artists who've put both on the musical map. This left Grant with lead guitar duties, and I was glad to see that he brought along the electric this time.

Together, they hit a good chunk of the new album Strangelet, including "Hidden Hand," "Raise the Spirit," "Johnny Guitar," and "Fountain of Youth." Since he was playing with a new band, Grant didn't have as much leeway to break out the audience requests, but he credited Paul and Jay with providing the impetus to unearth "Wish You Well" from the first Grant Lee Buffalo record. I wouldn't have guessed that we'd hear "The Shining Hour" and "Lone Star Song" either, though both "Mockingbirds" and "Truly Truly" were welcome staples. Inevitably, he reached for the acoustic for a significant segment of the set that included "Honey Don't Think," "See America," and "Don't Look Down," among others.

A complaint commonly lodged against my favorite band (you know which one) is that they don't rock anymore. I usually dismiss the accusation, and if pushed, I'll counter with the argument that they aren't the same band these days--apples, oranges, and such. Which is why I hate what I'm going to type next. I miss rockin' Grant, and I was hoping that Grant would use the electric to transform the songs on the new album, Strangelet, into something more dynamic than the studio versions.

To Grant's credit, he's clearly trying to change up his sound from album to album, and Strangelet shows off his glam influences more than anything I've heard from him before. Several tracks sound like unabashed homages to T. Rex, though the lyrics are certainly Grant's own. My beef, then, is that the album is oddly prim--as if it was recorded with residential decibel limits in mind. Grant has written some awesome songs for this album, but their full potential feels unrealized. Still, that left me with plenty of hope for the live show, which is where the magic happens anyway.

The gig fell short of those expectations, though Grant was in sweet, joking form and both Paul and Jay were able players; I especially liked Paul's smooth basslines and backing vocals. Despite Grant's solo turns on the guitar, the songs that stood out the most to me were from the Grant Lee Buffalo days. For example, "The Shining Hour" and "Lone Star Song" sounded amazing, whereas the new songs didn't quite pop.

Grant-Lee Phillips has always been a one-off for me. Grant Lee Buffalo was both rootsier than the indie bands, yet more rocking than the singer-songwriters I gravitated toward at the time. As a solo performer, he remains hard to pigeonhole, which may be his ultimate charm. I know this won't be the last I'll see of him.

Patrick Park opened the show. A few years ago, he seemed to be the opener of choice up here, drawing vague comparisons to Elliott Smith with his melancholy, melodic tunes. I recognized a few songs from the last round, and he introduced a handful of new titles as well. Though he's not my cup of tea, he's a talented, likable performer who deserves to find an audience.

See also:
» have you tasted the finest of trout
» it's not going to stop
» top 5 Largo memories

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