it took almost seven hours to sing

I could easily spend two weekends of any given month settled in at Largo, but alas, rent must be paid, plants must be watered, and so on. It always helps, though, when mob rule (i.e., at least one other person) helps dictate these rock tourism decisions.

Rhett Miller, Largo at the Coronet, November 22, 2008: I have an unofficial roster of people I want to see at Largo, work, time, and finances permitting. Rhett Miller has been on that list for while, and finally, events conspired to bring me to one of his shows in Los Angeles.

Pre-Coronet, Rhett took Largo's move harder than many of the artists associated with the club, so there was some question as to how he'd react to the new space. I'd say the outlook is good, as he reminded us that the same people who made it all possible were still steering the ship. Obviously, I've thrown my faith in with this lot for some time now, but it was nice to get the seal of approval from someone on the other side of the stage. Clearly, we did a banner job rolling out the welcome wagon.

I've seen Rhett on his own a handful of times before, but I was curious what would differentiate his show at the Coronet from the gigs I've seen in San Francisco. To my surprise, this show didn't feel radically different from the last one I attended at the Swedish American Hall three whole years ago. In both alcohol-free clubs, the audience maintained respectful hush, though voices piped in hoots and requests now and again. To tell you the truth, I preferred this super-relaxed air to the giddy, amorous anticipation that often marks his concerts (pot, meet kettle?). This, combined with the Coronet's stately frame, somehow made Rhett's teen idol moves more palatable as well.

This debatable detail aside, Rhett apparently took the setting into consideration too, as he made an effort to include at least one song that he doesn't regularly air, and tonight that distinction went to "Holy Cross." I'm not familiar enough with Rhett's or the Old 97s' catalog to have known that myself, so I was glad he alerted us to its significance. Another point lost to my cluelessness is the new material he's written for his next solo album, which he's set to start recording in the new year. If it helps any, he may have suggested that we picture ourselves around a campfire for one of them. Filling out the bulk of the set were familiar favorites such as "Doreen" and "Murder (Or a Heart Attack)."

I love seeing frontmen (and women) away from their bread-and-butter bands to find out where the songs come from and how they develop. With Rhett's solo material, it was easy to hear the tunes' simpler roots compared to the busier final products, but my ignorance rears its head once again, as I admit that the differences were less discernible to me on the Old 97s' material. However, even I realize the band typically contributes harmonies and lead guitar. I missed both elements tonight, but at least I had a Rancheros Brothers gig still to come.

Greg Proops opened up the show with a short set, and of course, the election provided plenty of opportunity for commentary. In his snarky and studied monologue, he revealed that he was a Hillary supporter; in retrospect, that shouldn't have been a surprise, but it does explain some of his more barbed observations.

See also:
» this is what i do

part of everyone's rite of passage

You know the drill: When there's one Largo show on my schedule, it's highly likely another one lurks around the corner, even if I have to buy tickets on faith alone. As luck would have it, a while after setting down the bucks for Greg Proops's chat show, we received word of even better news: The guests for the evening would be none other than Jon Brion and Jason Schwartzman.

The Greg Proops Chat Show, Largo at the Coronet, August 30, 2008: What do you know? According to this very blog, the only other Greg Proops headlining gig I've seen at Largo (the old one, obviously) took place exactly two years ago to the day. It's official: I'm the most predictable person on the face of the earth.

True to form, I'll address the music portion of the show first. Greg rolled out a magnanimous introduction for Jon, who honored those kind words with a triumvirate of songs. We had heard two of them, "Same Thing" and "Knock Yourself Out," the night before, but you couldn't call either a carbon copy of the earlier performance. The variations included an extended chamberlin passage in "Same Thing" and the slow build of "Knock Yourself Out."

In between Jon's mini sets, Greg gave us hell and what for on a number of topics, including ABBA, the new "90210" TV series, Michael Jackson, and of course, the presidential election. For all his mockery, however, he revealed his true colors later in the interview with Jason Schwartzman, when they both admitted their fondness for ABBA. We should've seen that coming.

I really wanted to hate Jason Schwartzman. Despite the fact that he was in "Rushmore," one of my favorite movies (and movie soundtracks) of all time, the one Phantom Planet gig I saw so many years ago left a bad taste in my mouth. To this day, I can instantly call up the disdain I felt before I walked out of the show.

However, Jason was all charm, which is probably even more notable as he and Greg had just met earlier that day. They nattered on about Venice, French coffee presses, lots of cool films and music, and much more, unselfishly offering each other turns at the mic and engaging in what sounded like real discourse. They were adorable, and I wanted to rush home and rent "The Darjeeling Limited."



At the conclusion of their conversation, Jon returned with Jason's (by all measures) absurd-looking double-neck Hofner guitar, which he promptly draped over the actor's shoulders. Also making an appearance was Benmont Tench, newly arrived from a show in Houston with that other band, and the three of them shuffled into "I'm Only Sleeping," which made ample use of Jason's toy.

Setlist
--Happy with You
--Same Thing
--Knock Yourself Out

with Jason Schwartzman and Benmont Tench
--I'm Only Sleeping

See also:
» sometimes when this place gets kinda empty
» used to be one of the rotten ones

she's lived it 10 times or more

For Jon Brion's last Largo show of 2007, we caught a sweet break, in which our slightly abbreviated party was not, in fact, banished to Glendale but instead landed at the very table we had hoped for. I can't vouch for Santa Claus, but I surely believe in Largo's magical minions!

Jon Brion, Largo, December 22, 2007: The first time was instantly the charm, the second time exceeded already high expectations, and now I'm just being greedy. Strap on the bib, loosen your belt, and dig in--this feast is far from over.

Jon appeared onstage to make the introductions for someone he called one of his favorite performers and people in the world. In our pre-show game of I Spy, we had already scoped out the individual in question, but we nonetheless welcomed Greg Proops with a hearty round of applause, even when he eviscerated us for the sympathies we supposedly harbored for Owen Wilson and the Police. That's all I'm going to say about his monologue, except that I also loved the Evel Knievel bit.

Thanks to Scott in the soundbooth, we weren't quite finished with Greg, even when it came time for Jon to take the bench. Scott weaved several Proopisms into Jon's abstract instrumentation, but ultimately, Jon brought Greg's declarations full circle. After tickling out hints of "Jingle Bells," Jon constructed a droning wall of sound to which he added the vocoder-treated vocals for--wait for it--"Roxanne." The Largo soundbooth, ever resourceful, was happy to lend a hand by, you guessed it, turning on the red light. At the end, Jon generously shared the blame credit by counting the song as a Proops/Fritz/Brion/Sumner composition.

The call for requests followed immediately, and I was more than ready this time. Granted, I didn't actually expect Jon to tackle "Do They Know It's Christmas," so the single bar he churned out was enough to put a disproportionately huge grin on my face. I don't know if the person who requested "The Underdog" felt the same way when Jon decided it meant the Underdog theme, but I suspect they took it pretty well.

With those two ringers out of the way, Jon got down to the business of a real request: "Life on Mars" on piano, in that simultaneously exultant yet weary tone so prevalent in Bowie's early work. Sigh.

After an equally unvarnished "Someone Else's Problem Now," Jon set the next chain of events in motion, first coaxing out various notes and melodies on the mellotron, then adding the analog synth and a murmur of drums. Topping it off were the piano and the guitar for "You Don't Know What Love Is." Twenty-odd wrenching minutes on, it was clear we weren't tuned into the Bing Crosby Holiday Special.

We weren't about to say it, so it's a good thing Jon cleared the air first by announcing that the show was ready for a turnaround and, thus, threw in a few reliable pick-me-ups. The streak stayed strong with "Girl I Knew," as well as Jon's charming Christmas song. But it really kicked up a notch with the arrival of Benmont Tench and David Garza.

While David made himself comfortable behind the drums, Benmont took his time unpacking the CVS bag he brought with him. The gifts turned out to be an electronic guitar and piano, intended as children's toys, but in Benmont's hands, they were good enough to rock a solo. More satisfying than any axe fest, however, was seeing the unadulterated glee on Benmont's face whenever the guitar or the piano hit a particularly inspired passage.

The instruments momentarily exhausted, Benmont took his rightful place at the piano, and the three of them rolled out the hit parade. David was the first to pipe up, contributing vocals to "Winter Wonderland," while Jon held the mic for him until the technical details were ironed out in the soundbooth. From there, it became a Benmont bonanza as he led the others through an extended series of segues and transitions. I gave up taking notes during this section because there was just so much stuff zooming by. I halfway expected the Flying Wallendas to fly out at some point!

Their escapade took a small turn when Jon started intoning, "E-L-F," and "I wrap more presents than you've ever seen," and David approached the front of the stage. The elements (the instantly identifiable bass beat, the smattering of piano) started lining up, and David and Jon broke into "Under Pressure", assuming the roles of Freddie Mercury and David Bowie, respectively. And when that was done, we got another Led Zeppelin doubleheader. Because they can.

Jon whispered something to Benmont, who tore into the Ramones, and it moved me to request Feist in the lull that followed, just because I knew that Benmont launched into it last month. I wasn't alone in this recollection, as Jon looked instantly to Benmont and said, "You know the words." Ben claimed that his knowledge covered only four lines, but they jumped on it anyway. Ben certainly knew more than four lines, but at the same time, he had no problem improvising the lyrics when his memory failed him. Then again, I think I know the exact same four lines that Benmont does.

The trio played a couple more rounds of musical chairs, with David and Jon at first swapping roles, then David and Benmont switching up, leaving Benmont on the guitar. David's choice of "Come Dancing" was deliciously fitting, even if the audience didn't quite deliver on the singalong. Benmont, meanwhile, appeared less assured on a real guitar than he did on the toy, but no need to worry--he nailed both songs.

Jon thanked his friends, then closed out the show by himself with his own songs. Ordinarily, I'd be happy to see off the year with pure Jon Brion ringing in my eardrums, but I don't have to. Check back later for the New Year's Eve report.

Setlist
--Greg Proops opener
--piano noodling/Jingle Bells/Roxanne
--Do They Know It's Christmas
--Underdog theme
--Life on Mars
--Someone Else's Problem Now
--You Don't Know What Love Is
--If I Only Had a Brain
--Funkytown
--The Entertainer
--Girl I Knew/Peter Gunn/Sunshine of Your Love/Everything Works If You Let It/I'll Never Fall in Love Again
--Jon's Christmas song
--Winter Wonderland/lots of segues/Happy Together/Bad to the Bone/Under Pressure/Immigrant Song/Kashmir * [vox = David and Jon, intermittently]
--I Wanna Be Sedated * [vox = Benmont]
--1 2 3 4/Sunny Afternoon * [vox = Benmont and Jon, respectively]
--Come Dancing * [vox = David]
--Mood Indigo * [vox = David]
--??? * [vox = David]
--It Had to Be You * [vox = David]
--Mr. Sandman * [vox = David]
--Knock Yourself Out
--Strings That Tie to You
--Same Mistakes
--Over Our Heads
--Meaningless

* = with Benmont Tench and David Garza

See also:
» it's been said many times, many ways
» i'm offering this simple phrase
» let your heart be light

just for one day

It's always kinda funny when rock tourism trips piggyback each other. Less than a week after visiting the Appalachians and the Eastern Continental Divide, we were on the other edge of the country. There are worse fates in life.

Jeff Gauthier Goatette, LACMA, October 27, 2006: How convenient that Nels Cline was playing a free show on the Miracle Mile on the same night we had a reservation for Largo! We slipped into our seats not long before the music started. We had warned the poor man of our attendance the week before, but he still seemed surprised to see us in the audience.

I believe the Goatette comprised the same people who played at Yoshi's back in May, and they hit at least one of the same songs: "Solflicka," which elicited a similar response from Heidi as it had from me when I first heard it. Sadly, Alex Cline didn't play the gong this time, but we got a couple other wonderful Jeff Gauthier compositions--namely, "Clea's Bounce" and "Enfant."

We took off for Largo during the first intermission but only after delivering the Andrew Hill football shirt I had long intended to get to Nels. He claimed it wasn't goofy, and I thank him for accepting it so gracefully.

Jon Brion, Largo, October 27, 2006: Before we left the LACMA, Nels mentioned that he planned to drop in at Largo that night to say hello to his old friend, Jon Brion. I don't know if our constant reminders had anything to do with it, but it was great news to our ears. And in fact, we saw Nels's familiar profile in the back of the room before the show began. He and Jon seemed to share a short chat and a heartfelt hug before Jon took the stage--charm all around.

But first off, Greg Proops opened the show. His monologue covered some familiar territory, but he managed to make them sound new. He seemed to think that he was bombing and turned it back on us, but he seemed to be doing OK from where I was sitting. His best line of the night came from a riff on the McCartney-Mills divorce, but that's the last thing I can say about him. Just see him yourself.

Back to the show: There's been no official proclamation (as if there ever is one), but it seems that Jon's tendinitis is currently at bay. Of course, a couple of weeks ago, he played a big part in what may be my favorite Largo show ever, and he even entertained at Largo the Friday before.

In retrospect, the clues were out there right from the beginning. When the crowd responded fairly positively to his top-of-the-show greeting, he commented that at least some people had enjoyed a good week; his tone clearly indicated that he didn't align himself with the cheery folk.

For his opening noodle (thanks Heidi!), he embarked on his trademark long-form piano improv, but this week's exercise sounded more ominous than usual. At the end, he said something about it being a "pro-suicide anthem," though he also joked that those chords would later become "Stairway to Heaven." Much later, Heidi noted that she suspected it was an opaque spin on "You Don't Know What Love Is," and I wouldn't argue with her.

I think it was at this point that Jon mentioned he had missed soundcheck but not by his own design. Rather, he had been stuck in a hotel elevator. Though he was only a couple of floors off the ground, the hotel had given him free drink tickets to placate any potentially litigious urges.

For the next selection, he mentioned a conversation he had with a friend about drug-influenced music from the '70s and said that he didn't want to do too many covers that night. Neither point stopped him from what was a debut for me: a song build of "Boys Keep Swinging." Jon read most of the lyrics from the songbook I-Ching, but he took care of all the instrumentation himself.

He stayed on electric guitar for two of his own songs: "Why Do You Do This to Yourself" and--more surprising--"Trouble." I hadn't heard the latter in a while, and it was a treat.

Jon sat down at the piano for "If I Only Had a Brain." He plays it as incidental music quite often, but he actually sang a couple of verses this time, and with a small grin on his face, at that. The song morphed into "Same Mistakes," still on the piano.

Around this time, the requests started flooding in from the audience, but the downbeat titles weren't working for him, and he said he needed to rock out. Thus, we got "Happy with You," which definitely lifted the mood.

The effect was temporary, as the next song build turned into an extended instrumental that resembled a coalescing storm. Throughout the night, Jon had technical difficulties, and the mechanical shortcomings reared their head prominently on this composition. We suspect that he was trying to take it one way but that it didn't work out. Instead, we got "Walking Through Walls" with a murky backing track instead of the roaring syncopation and the clean pacing that usually accompanies the song.

It was back to basics for "Knock Yourself Out," followed by a long song build that took forever for me to figure out. When I finally put the pieces together, I wanted to jump out of my chair in anticipation of what is perhaps the greatest guitar solo ever. It was "Heroes," which I haven't heard at Largo for far too long. Jon's singular twists on the song included a gorgeous little piano trill and a country-and-western-style guitar bridge sprinkled gingerly throughout.

Jon asked Nels to come up to the stage, but alas, we'll never know what they might've concocted, as Nels had left by then. Instead, Jon chose to close out the set with a singalong. He asked us for requests and took a long time considering our suggestions. Upon hearing "Dancing Queen" bandied about, he opined that most of us didn't really know that or many other popular songs and dared us to come up with the second verse. Oddly, he didn't give us a chance to prove or disprove his theory; after he agreed to "Daydream Believer," he did all of the verses himself anyway. I'm happy to say we didn't let him down on the choruses.

The true closer was the Cheers theme, another first for me. And it was very appropriate, as everyone really does know Jon's name at Largo. It'd be foolish to think Jon escaped the cloud hanging over his head during the course of his show, but bless him for putting on a show anyway.

The setlist:
--Greg Proops opener

--Casio + piano + celeste noodling
--Boys Keep Swinging [song build]
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself [electric guitar]
--Trouble [electric guitar]
--If I Only Had a Brain [piano]
--Same Mistakes [piano]
--Happy with You [song build]
--stormy instrumental
--Walking through Walls [song build]
--Knock Yourself Out [acoustic guitar + harmonica]
--Heroes [song build]
--Daydream Believer [piano]
--Cheers theme [piano]

See also:
» mask
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
» don't want to hurt no pandas

sometimes when this place gets kinda empty

Just as I promised, Brianne's first non-Jon Brion Largo show turned out to be a very mellow affair, and I didn't even have to apologize to Mike at the door for hogging up a four-party reservation with only three warm bodies. As always, it's a delight when Evonne joins us.

The Greg Proops Chat Show, Largo, August 30, 2006: Three Largo-related events in five days--that may be a record for me. It would've been my fourth outing in the same amount of time if I had managed to get tickets to the Zach Galifianakis show at the Fillmore, but alas, I've been slipping for some time now.

As this is primarily a concert blog, I'll address the tunage first. Sadly, we couldn't make Greg's last appearance, nor did the junior minions go in our stead, but tonight, we saw a Largo regular other than Jon Brion take up the musical slack: Grant Lee Phillips. He did three songs total, the first of which I didn't recognize, but at the end of the set, he came back for his own "Mockingbirds" and a cover of the Church's "Under the Milky Way Tonight," which you can hear on his recently released album, nineteeneighties.

For the closer, Grant Lee was accompanied by Margaret Cho doing a hilarious burlesque routine. I had my doubts when she described her fascination with this retro form of entertainment, but leave it to Margaret to turn it into a goofy, unique exercise that I doubt you'll see anywhere else. Pussycat Dolls, eat your skinny, no-talent hearts out!

Almost as funny as Margaret's routine were the confused and somewhat concerned faces Grant pulled as she hovered near him. Still, I felt a little weird at the end when I realized we were staring at a nearly naked Margaret Cho, wearing only clear plastic platform boots, panties, two big ostrich-feather fans, and three pairs of pasties on her body.

True to the billing, Greg Proops did indeed conduct a talk show of sorts. After Grant kicked off the proceedings, Greg took the stage for one of his patented long-form rants/observations/schpiels covering, um, a lot of things, most of which weren't included in his rant/observation/schpiel opening for Jon Brion last month. His first guest was Ngaio Bealum, an advocate for safe access to medicinal marijuana. He made a convincing argument, and I liked the "I smoked weed with Ngaio" t-shirts he was hawking.

The next guest was "Lindsay Lohan," if she were trapped in the body of a 40something white guy best known for a TV show celebrating the Ohio lifestyle. Yup, we got Drew Carey sort of pretending to be Lindsay and not doing a very good job of it. Where's a hoedown when you need one??

Margaret and Greg, however, got on like a house on fire, and it was fun sitting in the dark and listening to the two of them just yakking away about every subject under the sun. Greg asked about Margaret's upcoming TV roles, Margaret compared Greg to Marcello Mastroianni, and they both voiced their disdain about being an actor--except they were a lot funnier than I could ever encapsulate.

See also:
» have you tasted the finest of trout
» "My name is Jon, I'm from Connecticut"
» top 5 Largo memories

"My name is Jon, I'm from Connecticut"

"It's just like riding a bike...only more pedals."--Jon Brion

Jon Brion, Largo, July 13, 2006: Jon traded in the sartorial savvy he exhibited at the Intonation Festival for a look that was, in parts, much more familiar (oversize madras shirt, postal worker-stripe pants, orange socks) but with an element (stubble) not usually seen on the Largo stage. The shoes, to our relief, remained the same. Oh, there was another public debut too, but that'll come out in due time.

Jon made the introductions for Greg Proops, who opened with a typically far-ranging and hilarious 30-minute set that encompassed, among other topics, the World Cup, Syd Barrett, and Angelenos vs. the rest of the country. He also pimped his upcoming Largo show on Tuesday and mentioned that his special guests would be Wayne Brady and Jon Brion. Though I have all the time in the world these days, I'm still sane enough to realize that I can't attend every Largo show. I just hope Annie and Dance make it and report back.

Flanagan handled the intro for Jon, and he kept it to a minimum. I agree with him--life is short, and I can think of few better options than to fill it with as many (Jon Brion) shows as possible.

If you've had the chance to see a Jon Brion show in the last few years, you should thank your lucky stars for Sami, Jon's ever attentive assistant. So it was with great pleasure that we jumped on Jon's request for us to sing "Happy Birthday," and it was a brilliant excuse to kick off the show proper.

From there, Jon went into a "live soundcheck," and as he pounced on the drums, I thought I heard a distinctive beat. I whispered my suspicions to Heidi, and for once, my instincts were correct, as it turned out to be a song build of the Beatles' "The End"--to begin the show.

Jon fooled around with the guitar for a bit but landed on the piano for as deliciously delicate a version of Steely Dan's "Any Major Dude" (with a little help from a lyric book he carried onstage) that you could hope to hear. I know that the piano most sorely tests Jon's arm these days, but man, it was good to have him back at the keys. As it turned out, he stayed there for a stretch, first with "Take the A Train," complete with stomping rhythm accompaniment courtesy of those snazzy shoes, then "Here We Go" (insert gale-force sigh here).

We recognized "Girl I Knew" just about right away, but Jon kicked around every other part of it, with a slightly different melody in the middle and heavy guitar licks toward the outro. At the end, he sang a bit of Cheap Trick over the cacophony.

"I Don't Know How to Love Him" wasn't sung and served more as a (failed) tuning exercise, but it was a lovely excursion all the same. Jon launched into an off-kilter "Knock Yourself Out" anyway, finishing with a slowed-down outro.

Jon puttered about for a bit and pulled out a gorgeous old guitar that had the name "Pat" tastefully emblazoned in sequins across the front. As bedazzled as we were by those three letters, it was no match for the brilliance to follow onstage, in the form of Benmont Tench. In my opinion, Benmont was a major factor in Jon's acclaimed Intonation appearance, but Largo is a much better venue for his subtle, sparkling touch, and he took center stage a number of times, encouraged in no small part by Jon himself.

I love it when the two of them play whatever song they happen to be feeling, but Benmont's most notable contributions come when he turns an old chestnut on its ear. That's what we got with both "Why Do You Do This to Yourself" and "Waterloo Sunset." You can expect to hear Jon do either song on any given night, but when Benmont joins in, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. Our table was shrouded in awed silence for both songs, as we strained to hear every little note Benmont imparted, and in neither case were we disappointed.

Best of all, we got a robust singalong for "Time of the Season." Yay!

Benmont left the stage after a warm embrace, then Jon sat down by himself at the piano for "Ruin My Day," followed by the closer, a song build that he said would take a while to get to. I was completely in the dark, but both Evonne and her friend Eric recognized it in record time: "Shine On, You Crazy Diamond," a little poke at one of Greg's jokes from earlier in the night.

On a typical Friday, we would've taken a breather before the second set, but tonight's circumstances dictated otherwise. Instead, we got an encore that would still put most other performers to shame. Jon seemed happy to begin with a couple of downers (which he also recently played on Sound Opinions), but the last tune was all for Sami, who parked himself at the floor right by our table to take in his birthday present.

I'm proud to say that I was there for what may have been the beginnings of Jon's Roxy Music resurgence, so I had no problems recognizing "Same Old Scene" this time. Tonight, the song sounded like less of a joke--which is not to say it wasn't without humor. In the end, Jon delivered on the promised Eurodisco elements, but I could hear touches that wouldn't have been out of place at a modern dance club--completely in the spirit of Bryan Ferry's history of radically reworking tunes by Cole Porter, Billie Holiday, and Bob Dylan.

Jon dragged the song every which way but continually returned to the driving disco rhythm. In fact, it became "White Lines" for a little while, then Scott in the soundbooth brought out Greg's rendition of "Through the Fire" back to the fore. From all indications, the song could've gone on for a while longer, and Jon seemed to be breaking out in another direction entirely--when he appeared to hit the wrong knob and turned off all the loops when he meant to switch off only one. With a sheepish grin, he backed away from the keyboards and called it a night.

There's still no official word on when the Friday gigs will resume, but at a few points during the show, Jon could be seen stretching, rubbing, and massaging his hand. Heidi noted that he altered his piano playing to accomodate his injury--for example, for "Here We Go," he played the notes closer together, with fewer arpeggios (thanks Heidi!)--so the question continues to loom. I'm the last person who should be saying this, but don't wait around for that next fix. Enjoy life--see live music more often!

The setlist:
Happy Birthday
The End [song build]
Sweet Georgia Brown [guitar]
Any Major Dude [piano]
How Much Is That Doggie in the Window/Take the A Train/another song [piano]
Here We Go [piano]
Girl I Knew/Everything Works if You Let It [song build]
I Don't Know How to Love Him [acoustic guitar]
Knock Yourself Out [acoustic guitar + harmonica]
Why Do You Do This to Yourself *
You Didn't Have to Be So Nice *
boogie-woogie vamping *
Time of the Season *
This Will Be Our Year *
Roundabout *
Waterloo Sunset *
Ruin My Day [piano + harmonica]
Shine On You Crazy Diamond [song build]

encore
The Way It Went [piano]
Eternal Sunshine theme [piano]
Same Old Scene/White Lines/Through the Fire [song build]

* = with Benmont Tench

As if we weren't lucky enough to catch this show, a kindly soul even taped the gig and made it available to share. Download the MP3s, and let me know what you think.
» Jon Brion, Largo, 7-13-06

See also:
» the power of suggestion, the element of chance
» public service announcement
» there was no way of knowing
» top 5 Largo memories