don't give yourself away

A sweet, sweet birdie tipped us off to Jon Brion's "secret" show at Martyrs in time for us to change our travel plans with minimal hassle--though we would've just as well jumped through hoops of fire (mmmmm, blistering heat) to get to this gig.

Jon Brion, Martyrs, January 2, 2008: As you might expect of someone who keeps a blog, I like marking milestones, even especially the arbitrary ones. Last year, I was thrilled that the 2007 concert season kicked off so soon with a Stephen Malkmus show, and I relished the band's return in December. In fact, I would've loved to cap my concert-going year with Stephen and the Jicks, but alas, good gigs kept on coming.

Imagine my delight, then, at the prospect of a Jon Brion show at a small club on the second day of the brand-new year. Actually, you don't have to imagine it, since I'm ready to unload way too many words on the topic.

I already said I wasn't going to whine about the Harris Theater, and I'm not about to start now. But from the get-go, Martyrs showed all the signs of being vastly better suited to Jon's live show, in terms of size, ambiance, and most important, audience.

These hints came through as early as the opening notes, when Jon stretched his musical muscles with "I Fall in Love Too Easily," bringing in the Chamberlin and a whole mess of keyboards on the Billie Holiday standard. But it came into finer focus after "Why Do You Do This to Yourself," when he hit a wobbly guitar chord while tuning and decided to work with it, cobbling together "Tainted Love" and bringing in our voices for the evening's first singalong.

The guitar troubles lingered, as Jon provided a running narrative of his progress (or lack thereof) in tuning; ultimately, he flipped the bird at his pickups, but he soldiered on, even if he sort of apologized for abusing the Duke Ellington tune.



I should probably be thankful for the equipment troubles, as they seemed to drive him to the keys, where he entertained all manner of requests from the crowd before settling on one: "Amateur," my call. When Jon plays it live, his emotional vocals temper the song's cool, polished Bacharach-tinged arrangement. Tonight, with help from the electric piano, the song drifted further into emotive, '70s-era singer/songwriter territory. It wasn't my favorite version, but it's a risk I'm willing to take for that tune.

More requests followed; the Billy Joel suggestion flitted in and out of the set, obfuscated via vocoder for good measure. "Girl I Knew," however, drew on Jon's trademark talents, as he built it from the drums up. On its own, the song is a hearty, crowd-pleasing affair, but Jon won even more local hearts and minds when he dropped Cheap Trick's "Surrender" into the bridge's extended medley. Once again, my ignorance of '70s rock kept me quiet, but I loved hearing the room's voices belting it out.

After that bravura turn, Jon pared it back somewhat, sticking mostly to solo electric guitar. He cushioned the Smiths medley with layers of ethereal sampled vocals and bashed out his own "Further Along" with a punch of drums, but he delivered the others troubador style--except for the Doobie Brothers song. I admit that I may not have figured out the tune if Jon hadn't come clean early on; it sounded a lot like a much more accomplished version of the Country Bear Jamboree, but then again, that's somewhat appropriate, isn't it?

Jon returned to the piano for "Cathy's Clown," a request from the guy behind me. Not only was it a great choice, the guy had a gorgeous voice, hitting the harmonies perfectly. I happen to find off-key singalongs rather endearing, but it was a welcome change of pace to hear someone who'd probably feel right at home in front of a mic. And though Jon used the vocoder for the tune, it was in an entirely different spirit than with the Billy Joel song, for example.

The Everly Brothers led to Buddy Holly, which sparked a comment by Jon about the Wurlitzer's greatest hits. That, in turn, took us further down the musical path to the Zombies and, finally, the Velvet Underground. With that decade- and genre-spanning excursion, Jon sewed up the first set.

After a short break, Jon welcomed us with a resounding burst of drums, heralding "So I Fell in Love with You," a tune I haven't heard in a while. A little novelty section followed, but if nothing else, it gave us license to empty out our lungs and vocal chords.



Jon was caught short by "Daydream" when he realized he didn't know all the lyrics, but he invited a fan who seemed to know up to the stage. While he was adding on new players, he extended the invitation to Pat Sansone, from Wilco and Autumn Defense, and Ryan, the drummer for Chicago band Vee Dee and who also happens to take care of Wilco's stage lighting. Maybe it was a case of the nerves or maybe Jon happened to catch the dude at a convenient break, but the guest singer's memory banks proved to be less reliable once he got onstage. At least he was a lot more good-natured than the fools on New Year's Eve who claimed to know "Lithium."

The fellow graciously left the stage to the professionals, as Jon resumed vocal duties with the backing of Pat and Ryan. The small summer-inspired medley couldn't entirely chase away the freezing temperatures outside, but within Martyrs, it was nothing less than toasty, with record highs to come.

At both Chicago shows, Jon had been rather forgiving of the impromptu, er, talent that had rushed the stage, with mixed results. Perhaps with these train wrecks in mind, he offered a grand caveat, asking each of us to look deep within ourselves before answering the question: Who knew the bass chords to "Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey"? Dozens of hands shot up, but Jon picked out a dude in the front row, who happened to be wearing Lennon glasses.

It goes to show you how little I know about the mechanics of music that I never considered "Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey" anything other than an anarchic, balls-out rave-up, and I've often wondered why requests for it go unanswered. I remain clueless on its precise workings, but I have a new appreciation for it after watching Jon coach the other players on how to play the song.

The civilian (so to speak) joining the group, on top of being a friend of a friend, turned out to be one of the wiser additions at these shows. As far as I could tell, at no point did Jon teach him chords or correct him on pacing or the like. In fact, the most notable aspect of his participation was his seamless immersion in the group. He showed off a gorgeous touch on the bass for "Don't Let Me Down" and chimed in melodiously on "I Want You (She's So Heavy)." Most of all, he wore that infectious grin so common on folks, professionals or otherwise, who share the stage with Jon Brion.

Elsewhere, Ryan absorbed Jon's direction without a sweat, especially when they jumped between titles; I loved the playfulness Ryan brought to "Tomorrow Never Knows," a contrast to the heads-down intensity Jon often drives into the song. Pat too dug in, delivering harmonies, vintage Chamberlin sounds, or uncommonly twinkly piano as needed.

And of course, there was Jon in the middle of it all, leading not only the musicians but the whole freaking room in Beatlesfest '08 (Part 1). I was reminded of past shows--"Revolution" took me back to November, "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" to February two years ago--as well as my own good fortune at being able to witness so much of this magic.

As far as I'm concerned, the Beatles provide a bottomless well of good times, but just as rewarding was knowing that for a lot of people in the room, they were seeing this side of Jon for the first time. Playing despite a broken guitar string, calling out solos, that cool thing on "Tomorrow Never Knows" when he coaxes real-time bird sounds out of the guitar, and his general unbounded joy and energy at blasting it out for all of us--I don't know how you can't be moved after seeing it for yourself.



Thanks to the largesse of Martyrs' staff, Jon snuck in one more song before the clock ran out. By the time we stumbled outside, the chilly air was no less brutal, but in the gig's afterglow, we barely felt it at all (for a little while anyway).

Setlist
--I Fall in Love Too Easily
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Tainted Love
--I Got It Bad (And That Ain't Good)
--Amateur
--We Didn't Start the Fire
--Girl I Knew/7 Nation Army/James Bond theme/Peter Gunn/Secret Agent Man/Surrender/Police on My Back/Girl I Knew
--Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now/Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want
--Same Thing
--Further Along
--I'm Gonna Lock My Heart and Throw Away the Key
--Trouble
--You Say You Don't Love Me
--What a Fool Believes [Les Paul]
--Cathy's Clown
--Everyday
--She's Not There/I'm Waiting for the Man

Set 2
--So I Fell in Love with You
--Ishtar medley
--Cheers theme
--Western-style instrumental
--Daydream *
--You Didn't Have to Be So Nice *
--Summer in the City *
--Sunny Afternoon *
--Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey **
--Revolution **
--Don't Let Me Down **
--I Want You (She's So Heavy) **
--Tomorrow Never Knows **

encore
--Knock Yourself Out

* = with Pat Sansone (Wilco and Autumn Defense) and Ryan (Vee Dee)
** = with Pat Sansone (Wilco and Autumn Defense), Ryan (Vee Dee), and Packy

See also:
» look at those cavemen go
» play a song for me
» the way it went, the way it's gone

look at those cavemen go

Flight delays, driving snow, and that legendary wind chill factor--it must be Chicago in the dead of winter! But hey, if that's where Jon Brion is playing a New Year's Eve show (and, coincidentally, where a whole passel of pals live), then kick-start the Polar Express and roll over, Snow Miser, 'cos that's where I'm headed.

Jon Brion, Harris Theater, December 31, 2007: There are a lot of things I couldn't have told you when this rock tourism thing took hold, five-plus years ago. For the purposes of this post, however, let me just say that there's no way I could've guessed that I'd ring in 2008 with a dozen-plus friends at a Jon Brion show in a city other than balmy Los Angeles. And that I'd be all the happier for it.

Every Jon Brion show raises speculation about which of his friends will show up. I could care less who else is on the stage with Jon (you know what I mean), but as the promotional ads and flyers promised as such, we had to wonder. At least some of those questions were answered when, shortly before the show date, we learned that the Autumn Defense would play an opening set. Britt Daniel from Spoon, however, certainly raised eyebrows when we spied him making his way across the lobby before the concert and, in the process, igniting a whole new round of whispers and conjectures.

If you're familiar with Jon's sets at Largo, you know that the friends usually join him later in the show, but as Britt had his own New Year's Eve gig to attend, there was little time to waste. Jon emerged onstage to make the introductions before taking his place behind the baby grand and other piano-based accoutrements. Together, they went into a couple of Britt's songs. Britt's voice betrayed some signs of illness, to which Jon had alluded in his intro, but I think the scratchiness works in his favor. Toward the end of "The Underdog" (which is, of course, the track Jon produced on the latest Spoon album), Britt sort of sat back and listened to Jon mess around with the tune in a manner wholly different from what you'll hear on the album. But thankfully, no pianos were overturned in the process.

For Britt's final number, a few more players joined them: John Stirratt and Pat Sansone from Autumn Defense (and Wilco), as well as Howard Windmiller (from concert organizer David Singer's band) on drums. They tore into "I Feel Fine," a request from Britt himself. Yes, the newly hatched five-piece sounded rather raggedy, but who doesn't love a scruffy garage band, even one playing in a state-of-the-art concert hall? Besides, I dug the sight of Britt grinning somewhat helplessly at Jon's badass guitar solo.



After a very short break, the Autumn Defense took to the stage for a handful of songs. Three or four years ago, I saw the band open for Jon at Largo, and I remember very clearly Jon joining them for a cover at the end of their set. I couldn't tell you what song that was, but it wasn't "Sentimental Lady," which is what brought Jon (and Howard) back out this time.

From there, Jon finished out the first set with a few of his own tunes, the first of which was an audience request, and it led to another soundtrack piece. As lovely as they were, I was glad he chose the always rollicking "Happy with You" as the last song before we were ordered to drink up at the open bar.



We reconvened as scheduled, and by the time Thax Douglas finished reading "Jon Brion #2," we were nearly upon the midnight hour, though not before Jon snuck in an acoustic take on "Meaningless." But soon, the countdown began and glasses were raised to 2008, while Jon provided the instrumental backing. How many lines are in "Auld Lang Syne?" I have no idea, so I stuck with the four I knew, and by the sounds of it, so did many of the people in the room. This celebratory number seeped directly into the next: "Happy Birthday" to Bret, Jon's assistant, who I saw smile for the first time ever.

"Walking Through Walls" kept our spirits up, and the minor key improv (I think) not only made use of that analog synth Jon seems to love so dearly these days, but provided a silly momentary detour. As absurd as this sequence of events sound, it turned out to be relatively firm footing compared to a good portion of the rest of the show.

The requests had been rebounding off the walls almost as soon as the show started, and Jon had handled the early ones as best as he could in a hall that size. The crowd retained some sense of decorum, as lots of hands shot up (if only our kindergarten teachers could see us now) and waited for Jon to grant the wish of a lucky concertgoer. The opportunity landed on a woman who couldn't be heard from her seat, so she stepped gingerly and drunkenly to the front of the stage and took her sweet old time voicing her request and lord knows what else. In fact, it turned out to be two requests: one for her friend, and one for herself, though Jon didn't reveal who chose Dylan and who opted for "I Believe She's Lying."

Perhaps encouraged by this breakthrough, a group of young men at the other end of our row mounted an organized campaign to hear some ELO. They were impossible to ignore, but Jon entertained the idea for only a bar or so before breaking into a ragtime-sounding instrumental of his own (?) devising. How this sparked the ensuing singalong remains a mystery, but the crowd joyously embraced "Bohemian Rhapsody." Despite having viewed Wayne's World numerous times and attending several Flaming Lips concerts, I don't know this song at all, but it was pretty fun to soak in the crowd-provided harmonies.



The precarious mix of chaos and order was already in question at this point, but things soon tumbled toward anarchy as Jon introduced a method they had devised for handling audience requests. Out came a Dry Erase board and along with it, dozens of interlopers trying to log their requests. They clogged the aisles, lifted themselves onstage, and called their friends down to join them. Civility is for suckers! Somehow, however, sanity returned, and Jon got to work on the laundry list of disparate artists, styles, and titles that awaited him.

And he got through all of them too! Jon treated some tunes, such as "Life on Mars," "Ruin My Day," and "Queen Elvis," conventionally, letting their indisputable highlights shine through. But mischief crept into "Lithium," which hosted a George Benson-inspired bossa nova rift. And I can't ignore the titles I never thought he'd do (however briefly), "Uncomplicated" and "Deathly," the former because I don't think I've ever heard Jon grant an Elvis Costello request; the latter because, well, I'm gonna have to check the liner notes, but I'm not sure Jon had much to do with "Deathly" (I'm pretty sure that intense guitar solo is credited to Michael Lockwood, for example). Then again, I'd love to be corrected. [Edit: I totally take this back, as it has only my favorite Jon Brion backup vocal EVER. What was I thinking?!?]



Ask 10 different people the most memorable portions of this request segment, and you're likely to get 100 different answers, but I'm willing to bet you'll hear a majority citing either "Cortez the Killer" or the Springsteen parody. Kris picked up on the Neil Young song in record time, and Paul checked in with his acknowledgement shortly after, even as John Stirratt, Pat Sansone, and the new drummer (the first guy who had foisted himself onstage upon hearing Jon's challenge to the room, issued right before "Lithium," I think--he was actually pretty good!) were still finding their bearings. This version of the song was, as you might guess, far different from the performance Jon and Nels Cline turned in earlier this month, but that is no slight on either rendition. Tonight, Pat Sansone dropped in gorgeous piano riffs to complement Jon's smoldering guitar solo, as well as his substitution of Bush, Rove, and Cheney in place of Cortez among the lyrics.

The Springsteen song started out sounding like "Born to Run," which already had the crowd in a froth, but upon further reflection (full disclosure: hours later, on our part), it turned out to be a deviously clever off-the-cuff ditty that made use of all the ingrained Boss motifs: Jersey, cars, girls, and so on. Though we were slower on the uptake, I think John Stirratt at least cracked the code early on, when he sort of stood to the side and laughed at Jon's unironic emoting. Later in the song, Jon commanded Pat to unload on the celeste. Because that's what every Springsteen juggernaut needs.



Finally, we were left with just Jon once more as 2008 continued to unwind. He went back to the collective well for the final song of the second set, urging us to sing along as best as we could. I loved the layers of harmonies, and the oft-cited church/concert analogy hit me more emphatically than ever before. We sounded great. But the show wasn't officially over, as our cheers brought him back to the stage for one final song: "Maple Leaf Rag" in at least double time.

I'm actually glad I've had some time to let the show marinate in my brain because my knee-jerk reaction was less than pleased. I could have easily bored you with talk of the chattering crowd, the inappropriate requests, and the general cluelessness, but it's too early in the year to grouse about trivial details. The show was far from perfect, but it remains a unique outing in the annal of Jon Brion shows. And I can't stay mad when I've joined in with hundreds of other voices singing alternating harmonies on "God Only Knows" in the earliest hours of 2008.

Setlist
with Britt Daniel
--Everything Hits at Once
--The Underdog
--I Feel Fine [with John Stirratt, Pat Sansone, and Howard Windmiller]

with Autumn Defense
--Sentimental Lady

Jon's mini-set
--Row
--Eternal Sunshine Theme
--Happy with You

Set 2
--Thax Douglas poem
--Meaningless
--Auld Lang Syne
--Happy Birthday [to Brett]
--Walking Through Walls
--minor key improv
--Just Like a Woman
--I Believe She's Lying
--ELO request
--ragtime instrumental
--Bohemian Rhapsody
--Sail Away/Knock Yourself Out
--Life on Mars
--Ruin My Day
--Words of Love/Lithium/Uncomplicated/Deathly
--Cortez the Killer [with John Stirratt and Pat Sansone]
--fake Springsteen song [with John Stirratt and Pat Sansone]
--Queen Elvis
--God Only Knows

encore
--Maple Leaf Rag

See also:
» don't give yourself away
» the men stood straight and strong

like a dream in the night

From my earliest visits to Chicago, the Hideout has been pegged as the spot for live music (after the demise of Lounge Ax, of course), where secret shows, rock star visits, and general good times are common occurrences--magic words to the rock tourist. To no one's surprise, it also turned out to be the ideal venue for Jon Brion.

Jon Brion, the Hideout, March 11, 2007: Jon's Steppenwolf performance was nothing less than exhilarating, but our expectations ran high for his show at the Hideout, the perfect analog to Largo. Steppenwolf may have the beautiful, comfortable room, but I'll take my live music up-close and personal any day of the week.

Jon got a bona fide Chicago-style welcome from Tim Tuten, who, in turn, introduced Thax Douglas, armed with one of his signature, free-form poems written especially for the show. Jon was so smitten with Chicago's indie rock poet laureate that he requested "more Thax." As the poet shuffled through his papers before locating the perfect composition, Jon furnished the soundtrack, playing around with the Hideout's upright piano (which looked like it could tell even more stories than its Largo equivalent), as well as his own celeste and keyboards. Thax didn't stay on for much longer, leaving Jon to himself. The tune sounded familiar, but Jon let the instrumental preamble linger before he picked up on the vocals on the Billie Holiday classic.

Jon asked for requests almost immediately, and the crowd wasn't shy with their responses. In this small room, it was a lot easier to hear them, too, so Jon strung together snippets of four different songs, all submitted by the audience. I can't tell you which one I liked best, but those opening notes of "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" sure are hard to resist in any form.

Jon built "Girl I Knew" in the usual manner, starting with a visceral, emphatic turn on the drums. A broken guitar strap momentarily derailed the song, leading Jon to fill the time on the chamberlain and other keyboards while Sami patched up the instrument. When it was fully repaired, Jon picked it up again for a small tribute to Illinois's favorite sons in the form of a rocking segue into "Everything Works Out if You Let It."

For the next selection, Jon returned to the piano and slowly built up the required loops. He tweaked at the piano's guts and picked out a few ethereal layers before unveiling the finished product: "Strings That Tie to You" from the Eternal Sunshine soundtrack. (Sorry, friends, for the confusion with "Stop the World" on Friday!)

Sooz got her request for Bowie with the next song, "Life on Mars," a grand singalong that needed only a little encouragement from Jon himself. "Pipeline" (with a tiny injection of Les Paul, maybe?) also came from the audience, but "Why Do You Do This to Yourself" was Jon's own choice.

Back in July, "I Believe She's Lying" got Jon so riled up that he kicked over the electric piano. The song got the same sweeping treatment tonight, but I guess it worked out fine. The only antics we saw were the musical variety, as Jon built up the song to an orchestral, multilayered bridge, followed by a shredding guitar solo that not only sounded more aggressive than usual but also resulted in yet another broken guitar strap.

The piano hosted the next few songs, including the one tune I really wanted to hear: "More Than This." He prefaced it cryptically with a short comment about realizing not long ago that he wasn't as clever as he had thought, and for whatever reason, this was the song that came out of that epiphany.

Last month, I claimed that the song was "almost folksy" in Jon and Benmont's able hands. I take it back; as long as Jon emulates Bryan Ferry's yearning, searching vocals, folk won't be the focus. At the Hideout, Jon threw one more non-traditional element--the vocoder--into the inspired hybrid of exquisite piano and longing melodies. I've been struggling to come up with a succint summation of the overall effect, and the only description I can come up with is that it sounded a bit like solo Lennon, with a touch of Cher thrown in. Kinda.

Another thing I can't explain is why I totally lost it during this song, to a degree I couldn't have predicted. I mean, I love the song, but it's actually the third or fourth time I've heard Jon do it, and quite honestly, last month's version might've been my favorite. I suspect, however, that the song's impact had everything to do with the fact that I was sharing it with a great group of friends.

A couple of audience members joined Jon onstage for the epic "Not Ready Yet," though not before he told a nice story about his cowriter, E from the eels. He also happily pointed out how easy the song is to learn (not for the first time) and unleashed the fanboys on the low end. Meanwhile, he went to town on the guitar, roaring into its pickups and breaking multiple strings as the song progressed.

A Bee Gees request inspired Jon to inform us of the incongruous lyrics ("We can try to understand the New York Times' effect on man") in "Staying Alive" and to embark on a fairly straightforward medley of the band's hits. It wasn't the staggering prog tutorial we got back in December 2005, but then again, we didn't get to sing along to that one.

Eno requests had been flying willy-nilly at both shows this weekend, and Jon finally acknowledged them as he closed the night's main set. But instead of going with the "hits" ("Baby's on Fire," "Burning Airlines Give You So Much More," or "Needles in the Camel's Eye," for example), he embarked on a medley of the entire second side of Here Come the Warm Jets. Well, so I hear--I picked up most of the songs, but a few escaped me. If this strikes you as indulgent, I won't argue, but hey, where else are you going to hear this stuff?

We weren't going to let Jon go so soon, and he returned to the stage amid our applause. For the encore, Jon finally picked up on Kris's request for "Day Tripper" on acoustic guitar with our strong (to quote Maudie) vocals behind him. He also related a friend's half-joking suggestion to mess with the song's time signature, then proceeded to turn it into "country prog"--to hilarious effect--right in front of us.

Now that we were firmly ensconced in "Coversville," Jon took his pick of the ditties thrown his way. The Leonard Cohen song required Jon to disappear behind the chamberlain for a bit as he tweaked the piano and keyboard loops to his liking. The request for "Tusk" led to "Albatross," but it soon gave way to an early Fleetwood Mac song. "Need Your Love So Bad" was slow, slinky, bluesy, and heavy--that is, the last things you'd associate with the band in its most famous incarnation--and it came with the highest of recommendations from Jon.

"Here We Go" has been strangely absent from Jon's recent shows, so I was glad he played it tonight, especially for the newbies in attendance. I don't know how anyone can resist that song.

Three-plus hours after he had initially taken the stage, Jon decided it was time to close the show, and he did so by harnessing the crowd's energy for a singalong of "Boys Are Back in Town." He played ukulele and took lead vocals, while we threw in harmonies, which brought more than a passing grin to his face.

Setlist
--Thax Douglas poem
--Thax & Jon
--Fooling Myself
--The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly/Tell Me Why/The Way It Went/Girl
--Girl I Knew/Everything Works Out if You Let It
--Strings That Tie to You
--Life on Mars
--Pipeline
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--I Believe She's Lying
--Maple Leaf Rag
--The Way It Went
--More Than This
--Dayton, Ohio
--Love of My Life
--Jazz Odyssey Like We Did Last Summer
--Not Ready Yet
--To Love Somebody/New York Mining Disaster 1941/How Deep Is Your Love
--Dead Finks Don't Talk/Some of Them Are Old/Here Come the Warm Jets/Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me

encore
--Day Tripper
--Famous Blue Raincoat
--Albatross
--Need Your Love So Bad
--Here We Go
--Boys Are Back in Town

See also:
» always counted us as lucky
» the power of suggestion, the element of chance
» nothing lasts forever
» her little heart it could explode
» let your heart be light

always counted us as lucky

Places I do not live: Los Angeles or Chicago, despite ample evidence to the contrary. Fortunately for me, though, both feel a lot like home, thanks to some of the kindest, warmest people I've had the pleasure to have met. Still, the Chicago (and Madison! and New York!) peeps went above and beyond when they humored me, Heidi, and our Jon Brion, errrrr, appreciation this weekend.

Jon Brion, Steppenwolf Theatre, March 9, 2007: I'm not sure if it says more about the show's star or its promoters, but it seems notable that two of the city's cultural institutions had to come together to bring Jon Brion back to Chicago: the Steppenwolf Theatre Company and the Intonation Festival. Based on the beautiful weather that welcomed us this weekend, I wonder if Mother Nature wasn't in collusion as well.

Heidi and I traded in lawn chairs at Union Park for front-left seats at Steppenwolf's very proper downstairs theater, while our friends gathered in a nice clump in the center rows. As for Jon, he temporarily upgraded from Largo's patch of a stage for the vast expanse of a professional performance space. We still had the clear blue sky, though, if only in the form of a painted backdrop this evening.

David Singer from the Intonation Festival introduced Jon, who emerged from the shadows in a trim seersucker suit, still sporting the beard I had first seen at Largo last month. He immediately started in on "Me, Myself, and I" on the acoustic guitar, and it almost felt like I had never left the Pacific time zone. The acoustic guitar remained in the spotlight for both "Meaningless" and "Same Mistakes," then it was over to the piano for the unmistakable improvised percussion of "Same Thing." Tonight, Jon took advantage of the gorgeous baby grand onstage, though he seemed to pluck at its shiny innards and bang on its pristine keys as indelicately as he does with Largo's weathered Starck. By the end of "Same Thing," he had punched away at and looped every keyboard-based implement around (a celeste, a chamberlain, and a little synthesizer) to create an orchestra of sorts. For me, this was nothing unusual, but I hope the first-timers were inching toward an epiphany at this point.

The theme to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind floated us back to earth, but the equilibrium was short-lived. After Jon had set down the drums, piano, and bass tracks for "Happy with You," the guitar amp decided to go mute. The ever resourceful Samy rushed to the rescue, but no amount of prodding and pumping could coax the sound out, so Jon did what he does best: he cheerfully, nonchalantly took it in stride. He sang anyway, while Samy worked his magic, and a verse or two later, all was good again. Perhaps to celebrate, Jon turned in a bluesy take, initially of the melody, then on some other musical element that I can't even begin to guess at.

The requests had started in early as the second song of the show, but now Jon asked for the next guinea pig to be subjected to the suspect amp. The lab rat turned out to be my request for "That's Just What You Are," and I can certainly say that it was the most garage-y version of the song I've heard. Still, it's gonna take a lot more than a fuzzy amp to mar its pop perfection.

During the opening notes of the next song, Heidi and I threw in our predictions. She said Dylan, I said Nirvana, and we were both right, as Jon did one of his signature mashups: "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright" sung to the tune of "Lithium." It took Jon cursing at us before the audience really kicked in with the chorus, but after the giggles subsided, there was no doubt that the room had really come together.

"Waterloo Sunset" is almost a staple these days, but when you hear Jon's loving explanation of its appeal, you can guess why.

Jon returned to the piano, and as he sat down at the bench, he finally took notice of the indoor sky. He requested that the lighting person switch up the lights while he played some music in the background. He sampled his own nonsensical vocals and flitted about the keys, commenting that he was leading his "master class" on how soundtracks are made. When that diversion petered out, he segued into the always lovely "Ruin My Day," adorned with the tiniest of ad-libs that completely rejuvenated the song for me.

The next tune was requested by a group of fans from St. Louis that Jon had met on the street that day, but he warned them that it wouldn't sound like a standard. Rather, he planned to give it the White Album treatment. Armed with that information, I finally noticed that the song's slow, tortured build resembled "Sexy Sadie" from last month, but the vocals had to kick in before I realized it was "You Don't Know What Love Is."

What sounded like a request for Train was (thankfully!) a fan asking for "Trial and Error," one of Jon's most singer/songwriter-y tunes. The next selection took a completely different tack, however. Jon explicitly asked for an '80s rock song, but the musical school had been predetermined, thanks to Heidi's call--which is how we got "Back in Black" in the style of Fats Waller. Really. Then Jon finished out the main set with two of his own compositions: a song build of "I'm Further On," followed by "Knock Yourself Out" in its customary acoustic form.

Jon doesn't really do encores at Largo, so it was a bit odd to see him come back to the stage in response to the roar of the audience. All night, he had been cordial and animated, and it was perhaps the room's good cheer that helped him take on the late Elliott Smith's "Happiness." I haven't dared dream of hearing that song, but Jon himself tossed out an aside that enough time had elapsed. On the piano and the celeste, he served up a moving reminder of Elliott's formidable ear for melody and lyrics. It may be my favorite part of the entire show.

Somewhere in the center seats, Sooz's call for Prince rung out. There are certain artists that Jon can cover until the cows come home, without a single syllable of complaint from me. The Beatles and Prince may top that list, and for good reason, as tonight's Prince medley was a veritable tour de force. I've seen Jon do "Pop Life" before, and again, I was reminded of what he brings to the table for that song: lots of gorgeous, soulful piano in place of Prince's harsh, detached reading. I'll admit that both "Little Red Corvette" and "Sexy MF" were teases, but "Controversy" and "Kiss" got his full attention and our full approval.

The night concluded with one of Jon's own songs, "Stop the World," which I mistakenly told my friends was on the Eternal Sunshine soundtrack. It's actually unreleased, but it's not that hard to track down (nudgenudgewinkwink). Jon asked for two people--preferably anyone who's never played the piano before--from the audience to help out. He picked two young dudes to man the baby grand and the celeste, then advised them to hit the black keys. (He also joked that he was the weak link in the band because of his drinking and propensity for talking.) Jon himself took the acoustic guitar, and together, the three of them made some seriously beautiful music. However, Heidi later pointed out that the young man on piano clearly was not a novice, and even I noticed that the piano sounds were suspiciously polished. It's hard to complain, though, when his deception worked in our favor.

Jon offered one last token of appreciation. He explained that tickets had gone on sale before they could lower the price to his liking, so in return, copies of Meaningless were available for free in the lobby. Not a single disc remained by the time we made it out of the theater, so I'll take it as a good sign.

Another good sign: my buddies were buzzing about Jon as we left the theater, on our way to celebrate Kris's birthday with late-night Chinese food. The Chicago conquest was well underway!

Setlist
--Me, Myself, and I
--Meaningless
--Same Mistakes
--Same Thing
--Eternal Sunshine Theme
--Happy with You
--That's Just What You Are
--Don't Think Twice, It's Alright/Lithium
--Waterloo Sunset
--Ruin My Day
--Trouble
--You Don't Know What Love Is
--Trial and Error
--Back in Black
--I'm Further On
--Knock Yourself Out

encore
--Happiness
--Pop Life/Controversy/Little Red Corvette/Sexy MF/Kiss
--Stop the World

See also:
» the power of suggestion, the element of chance
» nothing lasts forever

the power of suggestion, the element of chance

Is it too nerdy to admit how long I've been waiting to write up this particular Jon Brion concert review? Is my cred shot? Bwahahahaha.

Jon Brion, Intonation Festival, June 25, 2006: It was the moment of truth, the date that had been circled in triplicate in red and surrounded by little gold stars and rainbow signs on my calendar since the beginning of time--Jon Brion's return to the stage, in the midst of his unexpected bout of tendinitis. I can't even remember when Heidi got the tickets for us, but the only thing that mattered was that we were here now and that Jon Brion was playing. Even better, Brianne, Chandler, Gina, Paul, Sam, and Sooz deigned our histrionics reasonable enough to endure.

As it was a festival, the set changes took place in front of our eyes, and we ate up every second that Jon was present, regardless of whether he was playing actual music. We worried for Sami, who--sporting a summertime Mohawk--faced the unenviable task of setting up the equipment in a mere 40 minutes instead of the leisurely pace of a typical Friday night set at Largo. Along the way, Jon joined him onstage (looking uncharacteristically pulled together in a lovely light gray pinstriped suit), accompanied by the always welcome Benmont Tench. Well, I guess that was one surprise out of the bag.

Together, Jon, Sami, and various local crew members tried out the loops, pedals, and mics, though seemingly not to full satisfaction. In between testing out his guitars, Jon turned his eyes and ears to Blue Cheer on the other stage, smiling approvingly at various points. The festival had started out late but had somewhat caught up over the course of the day; Jon must've set them back another 15 or 20 minutes in all. He definitely didn't start out on time.

We were spared the "comedy" routines that had preceded every other performer that day. Instead, one of the Intonation bigwigs took the self-proclaimed honor of introducing Jon. To his credit, the same guy stood at the back of the stage through Jon's set and seemed visibly moved by the music. I think there's been a lot of speculation on why Jon accepted an invitation to this festival, a far cry from Largo; this guy's earnest appreciation may give us a hint.

At the very start, during Jon's extended hello to the crowd, those of us in front could see him wringing, massaging, and stretching his stricken hand--not a good sign. It was perhaps just as telling that the set didn't begin with the piano noodling that normally opens his Largo shows. Instead, he took up the guitar and stayed on it for most of this performance.

In no surprise to me, he opened with "Same Thing," which I always love to hear. Sure, we didn't get the hammer/piano treatment I adore, but the outro is my favorite part anyway. Somewhere in there, he threw in different guitar licks, but that's as much as I can say and not feel like a complete fraud. He remained on guitar for the next song, "Just Fooling Myself," bringing Billie Holiday to the festival masses in grand style.

The stage was no Largo, but Sami and company had set up the drums and a small electric piano, and it wasn't long before Jon took advantage of them, jumping to the drums for a song build of the infectious "Happy with You." From there, he layered the piano, followed by, of course, guitar. At this point, I was just happy that Jon was going for an uptempo set, not one of those brooding meditations we sometimes endure in Los Angeles.

Next, Jon brought the preternaturally unflappable Benmont onstage, and the two greeted each other warmly. While Jon tuned his guitar, Benmont improvised a charming piano tune. Jon was so taken by it that he pretty much turned the stage over to Benmont and supported him. With the ice thoroughly broken (not so much between them but with the audience), they went into "Why Do You Do This to Yourself." At Largo, Benmont tends to join in on the second set, so we usually hear him on odd covers, not on Jon's own songs--score another one for Intonation. Jon also announced his appreciation of Benmont, saying that playing with Benmont was like getting to see a concert for himself.

From the Vice stage, Robert Pollard's band could be heard soundchecking, and Jon incorporated the drum beat into a couple lines of "Tell Her No" by the Zombies. But that gave way to a build of "The Girl I Knew," another unreleased gem.

A voice from the audience requested "Knock Yourself Out," to which Jon nodded, but it looked to me that he already had his acoustic guitar in hand anyway. He donned the harmonica headset as well and checked with the sound guy on a couple of points. When it seemed that he wasn't happy with the first question, he opted for the second option--it turned out to be a sexy, understated, and gasp-inducing "Don't Think Twice It's Alright." I think I spent the first half of the song staring at Sooz and Heidi in disbelief. Fortunately, I had somewhat returned to earth by the time he seamlessly segued into "Knock Yourself Out," which saw Benmont's return and a respectable audience sing-along.

The easy hook for pimping Jon Brion is to tell the prospective fan of all the amazing musicians who've worked with Jon in the studio or joined him onstage at Largo. But those of us who've braved workplace obfuscation, transcontinental flights, and Largo "cuisine" know that Jon needs no hook. Still, the guests are a treat, especially when that guest turns out to be the drummer in your other favorite band. We had been speculating and whispering of the prospect among ourselves, but seeing Glenn Kotche of Wilco join Jon at Intonation was beyond a thrill. And once again, I'll pointedly gloat of having had the honor of witnessing this commingling of talents before. Neener neener neener.

Benmont and Glenn accompanied Jon for two consecutive covers: "This Will Be Our Year" and "Baby You're a Rich Man." The latter brought out a robust sing-along from the audience and Jon's exhultations of "More!" to his cohorts. If that weren't emphatic enough, he set his attention solely on Glenn and coaxed a lengthy, wild drum solo from him. It was no "Star Spangled Banner," but we loved watching Glenn unleashed in a manner that we don't usually get to see with Wilco or at his solo shows.

Jon closed with a build of his own "I Believe She's Lying," a song rife with possibilities, especially during the guitar outro. Throughout the show, Jon seemed to be in high spirits, even with the occasionally faulty equipment. His energy took another turn during this song, culminating in his kicking over the electric piano. The keyboard went flying--we went agog.

Though Jon had far exceeded his allotment, the aforementioned promoter/fan boy took a cue from our wild cheers and brought Jon back for one last song, joined again by Benmont and Glenn. From the moment I saw Benmont onstage, I had my suspicions, and this one came true too, as the trio crafted a dreamy, otherworldly "Waterloo Sunset." By coincidence, the sun was waning, and you could see Jon look to the western sky.

As for Jon's hand, it looks like problems persist, and the piano may be the more vexing instrument, as he barely touched it. Sure, "Here We Go" would've been a treat, but then again, my friends probably wouldn't have wanted to pick me up off the lawn after the set.

I'd be lying if I said it was enough, but the set was just right--for now. In the meantime, we'll keep checking Largo's schedule for Jon's eventual (we hope) return.

Oh yeah, the rest of the festival. We took it easy on Saturday but managed to catch part or all of the Stills, Roky Erickson, the Boredoms, and Ghostface Killah. I'll single out the last one for a song equating women with ice cream--which I've defanged to a criminal extent with that description. Sunday, we were glued to the Virtue stage, where we saw excellent sets by Bill Dolan and the Constantines, as well as endured Annie and the Sword--at the least, the latter was a lot more interesting. Oh, Neil Hamburger turned up too!

The setlist:
Same Thing
Fooling Myself
Happy with You [song build]
Benmont's piano improv while Jon tuned
Why Do You Do This to Yourself *
Tell Her No [snippet]
The Girl I Knew [song build]
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright/Knock Yourself Out *
This Will Be Our Year **
Baby You're a Rich Man **
I Believe She's Lying [song build]

encore
Waterloo Sunset **

* = with Benmont Tench
** = with Benmont Tench and Glenn Kotche

If you've read this far, you certainly deserve to check out a video from the festival (thanks to Ariel for the clip):



See also:
» As long as I gaze on Union Park sunset
» how can I deny what's inside
» i'll be out on the town
» public service announcement
» top 5 Largo memories