this old nightclub stole my youth

Presenting the denouement of "More Ways to Run Yourself Ragged in SoCal, The Continuing Series"--for now!

Paul F. Tompkins, Largo, May 3, 2008: The list is long and a mountain of evidence has accumulated, but here's another example of how you know you've found your people: Although your weekend plans already include a major gig, you hatch a plot to drive to San Diego for an early concert, then book it back to Los Angeles for a later show. And no one bats an eye. This is where I belong.

I don't really have time for people bemoaning they never made it to Largo, but I'm guilty of a similar offense, having never attended any of Paul F. Tompkins's shows at the club. You know, they used to be on a Monday, then they didn't happen for a while, and I got to see him with other artists, and I live in San Francisco, and I have a job ... blah blah blah. Good thing, then, that we got in under the wire for his last show at Largo on Fairfax.

Actually, "under the wire" might be debatable as he had already revved up the revue for a packed house by the time we arrived, but we slipped in regardless to plant ourselves at his feet. Of all the vantages I've taken in a show at Largo, it was my first time in this particular spot. It wasn't particularly cozy, but aside from one small joke Paul made at our expense, we escaped otherwise unscathed--a triumph at any comedy show!

This is a concert blog, so I'll cover the music portion of the evening. Though Paul was accompanied by a three-piece band, we didn't see much of them at first because Sean and Sara Watkins hit the boards instead. They played a Dylan song, per Flanny's suggestion. Soon after, the whole gang (Jon, Benmont, Fiona, the Watkins, PFT's band) crashed the stage for Paul's rendition of an old tune from Sesame Street, "Inchworm," that apparently went down in flames, because/in spite of the crowd's attempt to sing along.

The collective, in fact, didn't have to do too much, as they settled on a composition that Fiona had written just for Largo. I'm not a fan of Fiona, but the work was, by all measures, a delight, namechecking several staffers, as well as the musicians gathered beside her, though Paul alerted us to the one glaring omission: himself! He recovered long enough to belt out the Old 97s "Niteclub" with Sean and Sara.

He closed the show with a long list of all the great things awaiting us at Largo at the Coronet, including the promise of gelato (!), but mainly the fact that all the artists were incredibly excited about the space and that enthusiasm could only make for better shows. The final song of the night was "Danny Boy," featuring Paul on vocals and Eban Schletter on piano.

Paul had called Jon Brion's gig the night before the "wake" for Largo, which made his show the "baby shower." But the finality of the night (no doubt combined with the exhaustion and hunger hitting us) felt more acute, as I realized this would be the last time I walked through those doors. Though I fall somewhat shy of the dozen-year mark of some Largo regulars, I've enjoyed an incomparable decade of shows at the old club.

See you on LaCienega.

See also:
» all is full of love
» it can't all be wedding cake

all is full of love

How often do you go into anything knowing it's the last of its kind? I attended Beulah's last show, but the way reunion tours pop up these days, I figure a second (or third or fourth or ...) chance will eventually bring the boys to the yard. Besides, I can't think of very many places that have meant as much to me as the musical anomaly in Fairfax Village known as Largo, especially those Friday night gigs with Jon Brion.

Jon Brion, Largo, May 2, 2008

Even before doors opened, there was no denying this would be a helluva night. The no-reservations line stretched farther down the block than I've seen since the days of Kanye Fever, and once inside and seated, we could clearly tell that they were planning to pack in the bodies. In addition, our exact change was refused, and our favorite table awaited.

Our imaginations had started to run wild in the days leading up to this show, as we envisioned all kinds of scenarios that could possibly unfold. We wondered which friends and collaborators would show up, Paul floated the idea of the artists inviting audience members up to the stage, and there was some speculation about where the Largo movie would fit into the schedule. These questions were partially answered by the silhouettes cast against the bar, but it was still anyone's guess--standard procedure for just about every Jon Brion show.

First up was Bobb Bruno in bunny drag, but instead of his usual mix of ambient sounds and rocking riffs, he presented a montage of recordings, culled partly from Jon's studio work and partly from Jon's Largo shows. I recall a bit of Kanye's freestyling and snippets from the Punch-Drunk Love soundtrack, along with some unreleased tracks and old favorites. The night had officially begun.

Next up was Dave "Gruber" Allen, who led a haiku slam with the help of Griffee and the musical accompaniment of a bassist [paraphrase follows] they had discovered at Paladino's in Reseda, playing with the band Big Enough Umbrella until he was kicked out for acting too much like Sting. Thus, we welcomed "JB" to the stage, and a few poems in, the brass section, in the form of Flanny, joined them. Along the way, we were regaled with the century-old history of Largo, started by Seamus Finnegan and Jellyroll Brion. And to my companions for the evening, I'd like to ask: Did I ever subject you to the 405 that weekend? That's how you know I love you.



During our pre-show gawking, we had seen a couple of familiar faces by the bar, had taken stock of a couple of well-placed stools onstage, and had jumped to a conclusion or two. Our hunches were ever so correct, as next on the bill were Flight of the Conchords, whom Evonne and I had first seen at Largo a mere two years ago. Considering that the Conchords (1) had people lining up three-quarters around the block to see them at Amoeba a week ago, (2) could claim a Top 5 debut for their newly released album, and (3) were about to embark on a sold-out nationwide tour, you really had to wonder what they were doing at Largo.

Well, I'll tell you exactly what they were doing: showcasing their patented combination of charm and hilarity. They tried out two new songs, the first of which moved Bret to grab his keytar, leave the stage, and award a couple of guys at the front tables with impromptu lap dances, while he simultaneously rocked out the solo. For the second song, Jemaine manned the omnichord, and Bret took the high notes for another tale of several loves gone wrong (conveniently delivered in the form of rhyming couplets).

The roars of delight climbed ever higher as the man of the hour returned to the stage. If he felt any trepidation, he didn't show it, not that he should've. For a little while, the show proceeded like any other Jon Brion gig. He started out on the electronic toys lining the piano, poured out a heartfelt Hank Snow number, and followed it with a Gershwin tune, the last of them accompanied by Sebastian Steinberg.

I not only landed the first request of the auspicious evening, Evonne and I helped jog Jon's memory by humming the opening bars of the song. And what do you know? When Jon asked for a jazz drummer, our friend Chris took it upon himself to fill out the trio. Jon called it the "Charlie Brown version" of the song; I just know it was jazzy and fun, and it made me giggle.

Jon handled the next batch of tunes by himself. He led off with a short tease from "Eight Miles High" before plucking out "It Looks Like You" instead, packed together three disparate songs to satisfy the other requests, then went with couple of his own tunes. "Ruin My Day" betrayed a Dylanesque tone, while "Over Our Heads" remained as light as gossamer.

The next order of business was to order any [paraphrased] alphabetically monikered members of the audience to the stage; thus emerged E, from the eels, of course. The two of them chatted amiably about their friendship, Largo itself, and their lack of preparation (the topic they discussed while hanging out before the shows: turning Largo into a rock 'n' roll Branson). E was the sole performer that night who didn't talk up the new place; instead, he encouraged us to rub it in that we were at Largo on Fairfax back in the day and to boast that nothing will approach the experience. The only other point I can attempt to reproduce on this blog is E's revelation that the proprietors of a restaurant he and Jon used to frequent was convinced they were a couple. Holiday tidings and vows of love were exchanged too.

With that, they played some actual music, familiar songs from the E/Jon oeuvre. When Sebastian and Benmont Tench hopped on, E moved back to the drums, and they went into "Raspberry Beret," for which E needed no lyrical assistance at all. Jon resumed vocal duties for "Controversy," though following the lyric that asks, "Am I straight or gay," E piped up with an unsolicited aside ("you're gay"). The looming medley was slightly derailed when not a single person in the room stepped up with the lyrics to "Another One Bites the Dust," but an audience member who knew the words to "Rapper's Delight" got us back on track.

She's not exactly any audience member, but Sara Watkins was summoned to the mic by Benmont, and the two of them shared the lead for "I Want You Back." I would've liked to see her stay for the next one, but Jon grabbed the short Beatles medley, at least until Benmont threw in a couple of curveballs. I (and the rest of the room) caught "Tequila," but I couldn't begin to tell you what else he might've snuck past us.

Jon went into an old BeeGees song, which E complained he didn't know, and that in turn brought us to perhaps the most famous Brothers Gibb composition of all time. Ever mindful, Jon conferred with E for the next title, to which E gave the thumbs-up, and off we dove into the Zeppelin catalog. Yet again, Benmont took the reins and steered us through a litany of songs ranging from Gershwin to Springsteen. He settled in long enough to get us all to sing "Hang on Sloopy" with him, but then it was back to "Born to Run" and a piano solo so striking that even the musicians onstage had to stop and listen.

Though we were still winded, things were just warming up. For the next few tunes, we got a couple of Largo's favorite songbirds: first Sara, then Fiona Apple, then Sara and Fiona together. After the Buddy Holly duet, Sebastian and E vacated the stage (we wouldn't see E for the rest of the night), leaving just Jon, Benmont, and Fiona for a handful of standards.

Jon and Benmont got in one more song before the Mesmerizer (a.k.a. Ron Lynch) took over. He hypnotized Jon to do his bidding, brought up Dorris from the audience, and yelled at us a couple of times. It was impossible to not think of George Oscar Bluth during this segment, but he provided a decent break in what would turn out to be a long, momentous night.

It was back to Jon solo for a quick Scott Joplin number, then Paul F. Tompkins slogged through the audience to reach the stage. Paul, it seemed, had come to praise Largo, not to bury it, reminding us of its many demerits: the food (of course); the ridiculous requests from the back of the room, usually issued by a staffer; mistaken identities as proliferated by journalists in their annual story about Largo and Jon; and most of all, the bathroom, or lack thereof. Jon, Paul, and eventually Flanny would spend a good amount of time talking about the toilet situation, the "executive washroom" (i.e., the dumpster behind the club), and who's been pissing in Flanagan's office wastebasket. See you next Tuesday, indeed! When the laughter finally subsided, Jon and PFT did a sweet song together, though I'm not sure how PFT managed to get a breath out while hunched over the music stand.

Jon played his own tune while the Watkinses and Gabe Wicher gathered their instruments, and for the next few songs, he didn't do much else. For the first one, Jon stood to the side of the stage and gulped down his Guinness while the trio delivered the goods. Then for the next two songs, he left the stage entirely to watch the show from the back, the first time he'd done that in 12 years, he claimed. But his presence was hardly missing, as the Watkinses and crew (now also numbering Benmont Tench and Paul Bryan) performed "Trouble" and "Same Mistakes." This may have been the first time I've heard Benmont on "Trouble," and it was as gorgeous as you can imagine.

Earlier in the set, Jon had declared that they would play straight through, without a break, and we of course cheered the prospect. That moment seemed like a million years ago as we realized we were about to reach the final song. To no one's surprise, it turned out to be "Waterloo Sunset," suggested by Flanny but considered by Jon as well. I don't care how many times you've heard Jon do this song; it sounded unlike anything I've ever heard at the club.

Jon left the stage, and "Don't Dream It's Over" streamed out over the PA, but the cheers and standing ovation wouldn't stop. It was now well past 2 a.m., but the rules had been suspended. Jon returned and, through tears, delivered an emotional, earnest, and deeply touching speech. I can't tell you what he said, but the spirit of the message was clear: how special Largo has been all these years, and how grateful he was to be there. Of all the pure moments of pleasure, inspiration, and sentiment I've seen at the club, that has to top the list.



But wait, it's not over yet! We clapped some more, and Jon brought out Flanny, their faces still damp with tears. Jon pushed him up to the stage, told us that we would be so mad at Flanny for not having done this sooner--and tuned the guitar. In the short, somewhat anti-climatic interim, Flanny also thanked everyone in his somewhat gruff way before treating (in the truest sense of the word) us to an Icelandic lullaby, as he called it: Bjork's "All Is Full of Love." Now my heart is full.

The night was not exactly over; having crashed through last call, the club (I suppose) had nothing to lose at this point. We said hello to friends old, new, and somewhere in between. Sometime before 3 a.m., we finally tore ourselves away.

As a teenager, my rock fandom frequently took the form of games of MASH (you will have two kids with Simon LeBon, live in a hut in Grenada, and ride a Green Machine). My 20s were spent seeking any flimsy foothold in the music industry (maybe we can talk to them if we start a zine!). Well into my 30s, I can laugh at those notions, now that I realize the true impact of music in my life: that is, the profound bonds it's enabled, the amazing memories it's ushered in, and the true happiness it's brought, all of which were abundantly evident this evening.

But just to be on the safe side, I squeeze in the occasional round of MASH too.

Setlist
Bobb Bruno
--Jon's greatest hits montage

Dave "Gruber" Allen
--haiku slam (joined by Mike, Jon, and Flanny)

Flight of the Conchords
--Gonna Get Freaky Tonight
--Ex-Girlfriend Choir

--keyboards
--I Don't Hurt Anymore

with Sebastian Steinberg
--Our Love Is Here to Stay

with Sebastian Steinberg and Chris
--Pomp & Circumstance

--It Looks Like You
--Safety Dance/The End/Knock Yourself Out
--Ruin My Day
--Over Our Heads

with E
--This Guy's in Love with You
--My Beloved Monster

with E, Sebastian, and Benmont
--Raspberry Beret
--Controversy/Another One Bites the Dust/Rapper's Delight [w/ audience member]

with E, Sebastian, Benmont, and Sara Watkins
--I Want You Back

with E, Sebastian, and Benmont
--And Your Bird Can Sing
--Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey/Tequila/more
--New York Mining Disaster 1941
--Staying Alive
--Good Times, Bad Times
--Misty Mountain Hop/Jesse's Girl/Badlands/If I Only Had a Brain/Addams Family theme/Hang on Sloopy/Born to Run

with E, Sebastian, Benmont, and Sara
--Ain't Misbehavin'

with E, Sebastian, Benmont, and Fiona
--River Stay Away from My Door

with E, Sebastian, Benmont, Fiona, and Sara
--Every Day

with Benmont and Fiona
--Cry Me a River
--After You've Gone
--You Belong to Me

with Benmont
--I Don't Really Want to Know

Ron Lynch magic act [with Dorris]

--Maple Leaf Rag

with Paul F. Tompkins
--Will and Grace DVD menu
--La Marseillaise
--As Time Goes By
--I Don't Want to Spoil the Party

--Trial and Error

Sara, Sean, and Gabe Wicher [no Jon]
--Say Darling Say

Benmont, Sara, Sean, Gabe Wicher, and Paul Bryan [no Jon]
--Trouble
--Same Mistakes

--Waterloo Sunset

with Flanny
--All Is Full of Love

See also:
» i won't be denied
» i am in paradise
» it's been said many times, many ways

where they feel safe and sound

Though we knew this was no longer, in fact, Largo's Last Stand, we could hear the rumblings of the club's coda approaching. However, I'd say that those of us who've loved Largo for all these years required no attitude adjustment going into these shows; we've always known that every moment at this club, especially the Friday nights with Jon Brion, should be savored.

Jon Brion, Largo, April 26, 2008: Jon started off per normal, slamming down on the keys-based implements before punching out a moody piano piece that eventually led to "Trouble" (the song, of course, not the situation). His second song, though, offered the first glimpse of the closure we were all seeking; leave it to Ray Davies to have penned the words so fitting for the situation.

From there, he mixed up his own songs with covers before asking for requests. "Casanova" jumped off my tongue before I realized, and Jon hit a couple of lines before abandoning it for an "extremely edited" track off the same album (Roxy Music's Country Life, in case you're wondering). Taking us from Bryan to Brian, Brion rounded out the rock block with some Eno, thus heading off the inevitable showdown between Roxy Music purists.

For "I Believe She's Lying," he pulled off one of those WTF Jon Brion feats, playing guitar and piano at the same time. And for Nilsson's "One," he asked us to supply the vocals, which we did grandly, though maybe our harmonies fell somewhat short of the dreamy mix that characterizes the original composition.

For me, the next major moment in the set came when, after another sequence of his own songs and a cover or two, Jon built up "Happy with You." We noted the Les Paul-style fingerpicking on the bridge, as well as the bird he flipped at the guitar pickups, but there was also Jon's comment on taking his time with the song, as it would probably be the last night he did it at this particular Largo. I can't wait to see the new place, but it's still a bit jarring to hear about The End from the performers themselves.

Jon closed with "Waterloo Sunset," a song he's done often, but it took on a different light in the shadow of Largo's impending move. It remained, however, as gorgeous as always.

The second set began with Cole Porter in what may have been another parting shot to the old space before Benmont Tench and Fiona Apple were called to the stage. They weaved through a set of familiar standards; of those titles, Flanny's request for "Blue Skies" was probably the highlight, as it inspired a magical run by Benmont. Jon himself yelled, "More!" at Largo's favorite piano player.

Sebastian Steinberg joined them for a Bill Withers song, which turned out to be an absolutely essential segment of the set if only for the exchange between Jon and the audience that led to a fan's response to the question of whether Bill is still alive: "He's still With-Ers." Har har har.

Back on the musical side, however, Fiona and Ben ended up taking the first and second verses, respectively, of the song. Benmont came to the rescue once again a couple of songs later, though this time with an effervescent piano solo, on "Do Nothing Till You Hear from Me."

Sara and Sean Watkins had now arrived, and there was more pow to be wowed as they mentally rifled through their repertoire. They landed on a gem: Gillian Welch's "I Want to Sing That Rock 'n' Roll," featuring the two ladies. I'm not always a fan of female singers, but there was no denying that Fiona and Sara are a formidable team when sharing a microphone.

Fiona disappeared for the next several songs, which comprised tracks from the Watkinses' usual grab bag and some surprises too. Jon, in fact, had to ask them the title of one tune, though he had just played along to it. Fiona, however, returned to lend her voice to the last couple of numbers, bringing us one step closer to the Last Friday (For Real This Time!) at Largo.

Set 1
--synth/MicroKorg/piano
--Trouble
--This Is Where I Belong
--It Looks Like You
--Round Midnight
--Walking Through Walls
--Please Stay Away from Me
--Casanova
--A Really Good Time
--Some of Them Are Old
--I Believe She's Lying
--Stop the World
--One
--I Fall in Love Too Easily
--Same Mistakes
--Knock Yourself Out
--Eternal Sunshine theme
--piano
--Happy with You
--Waterloo Sunset

Set 2
--Every Time We Say Goodbye
--You Belong to Me [Fiona] *
--I'm Beginning to See the Light [Fiona] *
--Don't Get Around Much Anymore [Fiona] *
--Blue Skies [Fiona] *
--Ain't No Sunshine [Fiona and Benmont] **
--Crazy [Fiona] **
--Everyday [Fiona] **
--Do Nothing Till You Hear from Me [Fiona] **
--I Want to Sing That Rock 'n' Roll [Fiona and Sara] ***
--I Want You Back [Sara] ****
--I Go to Sleep [Sara] ****
--Too Much Beer and Wine (?) [Sean] ****
--Rock Hard to Break (?) [Sara] ****
--My Baby Left Me ****
--Jeepster ****
--Walking After Midnight [Fiona and Sara] ***
--Tonight You Belong to Me [Fiona and Sara] ***

brackets indicate singer
* = with Fiona Apple and Benmont Tench
** = with Fiona Apple, Benmont Tench, and Sebastian Steinberg
*** = with Fiona Apple, Benmont Tench, Sebastian Steinberg, and Sara and Sean Watkins
**** = with Benmont Tench, Sebastian Steinberg, and Sara and Sean Watkins

See also:
» Night One: i go for it every time

i go for it every time

Let the record show that between these dates and my last visit to Largo, Jon Brion played four--four!--shows that I didn't attend. And yes, there will be write-up of the Real Final Jon Brion Show at Largo on Fairfax, but it's going to have to take a number and get in line, just like all the other gigs I attend.

Jon Brion, Largo, April 25, 2008: For the last few months and for various reasons, I've somewhat struggled to fill my Largo reservations. The details usually work themselves out in one way or another, but there has been some finagling along the way. Not so this month, when a familiar cast of characters made the trek to Los Angeles for what we assumed were Jon's last shows before the move to the Coronet. Actually, I suspected that May 2 date would eventually loosen up, but we were kept guessing until shortly before Friday's show.

Flanny's announcement to the rest of the audience cut through the tension somewhat, but the air of finality managed to work its way into several numbers, though not immediately so. Per usual, Jon alternated a couple of instrumental piano pieces with more familiar compositions, in this case "Someone Else's Problem Now" and "Here We Go."

The "public soundcheck" concluded, he moved to the guitar for "Love of My Life" with a noisy ending and declared he was "ready to play." Rounding out the onstage loop, he went to the drums to build "Girl I Knew," but a broken string somewhat held back the song. Jon's emphasis on his own material carried through the next half-dozen songs, including an instrumental ragtime version of "That's Just What You Are." Somewhere in this sequence, he opined, "I hate guitars," but it was only a matter of time before he returned to them.

Jon had already started calling for requests, and from them he chose his first cover of the night. He asked for duct tape, with which he pinned down some hammers inside the piano, and beat out a rhythm from the same surface. I thought we might hear one of his old songs, but it turned out to be "Just What I Needed" à la "Same Thing." The Queen cover was beautifully straightforward, a contrast to the version he recorded for the tribute album a few years back, but the Replacements song might've been the biggest and most charming surprise.

I believe it was someone from the table next to ours who requested "the first song you did at Largo." Someone who was actually at that first show will have to verify if Jon made good on the suggestion, but his choice of "I'll Take You Anyday" seems like a reasonable response. Following that, Jon voiced a need to rock, but I'm not sure his languid, moody Ellington build qualified. More memorable (at least for me) was the way he seized on the "Personal Jesus" request and twisted it into "People Are People" in the style of Les Paul. That's not something I would've guessed I'd ever hear when listening to the band in 7th grade!

The second set started off with more technical problems, but Jon used it anyway to create the foundational drone upon which he eventually built "Tomorrow Never Knows." From there, he went the more direct route for requests with a straightforward command, "Call it." Heidi got the first one off the bat (T. Rex), and I think I got the second one ("Love Is the Drug"), for which he invited Sebastian Steinberg onstage. Unfortunately, two things interfered with the performance: the D key on the piano gave out, and Jon couldn't quite remember it, though we got the whisper of a couple of verses. What the hell, I won't say no.

Largo's own Griffy stepped onstage to do his best MacGyver impression; with nothing but a cocktail straw and his Spidey sense, he jimmied the errant key in place and was asked to supply the musical accompaniment to "Cinnamon Girl." Fortunately, a replacement in the form of Benmont Tench (who must've zipped over from the Mudcrutch show at the Troubador) relieved him of his duties.

Benmont made his presence known in the next several songs as well. For "Time of the Season," he supplied the backing vocals (as did we, it should be noted), along with the syncopated handclaps. Meanwhile, his piano skills were as prominent as ever, as he worked his way from deliberately ham-fisted maneuvers to twinkly, dainty notes.

Jon asked us to drum on our tabletops for the next song, which turned out to be "For Your Love." I don't know if we held up our end of the deal, but Jon and Benmont certainly did.

From there, it was the chamber pop stylings of Sex Pistols, in what I usually characterize as a "Penny Lane" pace. Benmont furnished a clue to part of the inspiration when he dropped "Candy Man" on the celeste into the mix.

With David Garza jumping into the action, they first went into the audience request for "Raspberry Beret," featuring Jon and David on alternating vocals. The third verse once again flummoxed the crew, but tonight, Heidi and I (mostly Heidi) helped fill in the blanks until they regained their footing in time for the lyrical payoff.

David explained that the next song was something he always wanted to dedicate to Jon, and this was finally his opportunity to do so, and they tore into "Johnny B. Goode," followed by the apropos "Save the Last Dance for Me." After Jon's turn at the mic for "To Know Him Is to Love Him," David took the reins for a song he did last month, though in a slightly different style. Benmont mostly sat out the Stray Cats song, perhaps due to that faulty piano key, but he returned to the action by directly playing the piano hammers instead.

Jon often demurs on the requests for "Let's Get It On," but the quartet gave it a try tonight. While David retreated to the drums, Jon at first picked up vocal duties, but he somehow transferred them mid-song to Sebastian instead. Sebastian, for his part, had the kind of deep voice suited to after-hours entertainment, but he forgot most of the lyrics and started ad-libbing them instead (to hilarious effect). Jon, meanwhile, supplied harmonies -- when Benmont's solo wasn't transporting him. They then closed the night with two instrumental tracks of the slinky, seductive variety.

Stay tuned for part two.

Set 1
--piano
--Someone Else's Problem Now
--piano
--Here We Go
--Love of My Life So Far
--Girl I Knew
--Over Our Heads
--Knock Yourself Out
--Hook Line and Sinker
--That's Just What You Are
--Croatia
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Just What I Needed
--Making Plans for Nigel
--Play the Game/Life on Mars
--Unsatisfied
--I'll Take You Anyday
--I Got It Bad (and That Ain't Good)
--People Are People [Les Paul style]

Set 2
--Tomorrow Never Knows
--Life's a Gas
--Love Is the Drug *
--Cinnamon Girl **
--Time of the Season ***
--For Your Love ***
--Anarchy in the UK ***
--Raspberry Beret [Jon and David] ****
--Johnny B. Goode/Save the Last Dance for Me [David] ****
--To Know Him Is to Love Him ****
--Stray Cat Strut [David] ****
--Let's Get It On [Jon & Sebastian] ****
--Sleepwalk ****
--Albatross ****

brackets indicate singer
* = with Sebastian Steinberg
** = with Sebastian Steinberg, Griffy, and Benmont Tench
*** = with Sebastian Steinberg and Benmont Tench
**** = with Sebastian Steinberg, Benmont Tench, and David Garza

See also:
» the world will revolve
» it's been said many times, many ways
» the end is near
» Night Two: where they feel safe and sound

good friends also find a way

You very rarely have to ask me twice to join you at Largo, but in some instances, you don't even have to finish the sentence before the word "yes" pops out of my mouth. Largo on Fairfax's last stand would easily qualify as one of those situations, and I required no time at all to confirm my place on Heidi's reservation for the Watkins Family Hour.

Watkins Family Hour, Largo, April 24, 2008: Officially, this is the third Watkins Family Hour show I've attended, but they've popped up at so many other Largo gigs that their appearances tend to blur together. They're a very good example, however, of the Largo model at its ideal, highlighting both the artist(s) in the solo spotlight and a collaborative setting. They beg the question: Did the Watkinses take to Largo so well because of an inherent affinity for this setup, or did this setup make the Watkins Family Hour possible?

Perhaps someone else can answer definitively. All I know is that it works, and the Watkins Family Hour is another event that I'd easily recommend to anyone interested in the Largo experience.

Tonight, an entourage of familiar faces joined Sara and Sean onstage: Benmont Tench, Paul Bryan, and Greg Leisz. Later, Mike Wicher (on dobro), Gabe Wicher (on fiddle), and David Garza stepped up as well. I haven't been to enough Watkins Family Hour shows to know how many songs they repeat from week to week, but the tunes this night weren't the ones I'm used to hearing. As I recall, they presented a handful of songs either on or considered for Sara's solo album, Sean and Gabe's so-called hit "More Pretty Girls Than One," Jon Brion's "Trouble" (though Jon was not at the show that night), Sean and Paul on the Louvin Brothers' "I Like the Christian Life," and more.

The guest players made themselves known at the show as well. As always, the band members enjoyed generous soloing opportunities for each song, but they could be heard in more ways than one. Paul Bryan, for example, took the lead vocals on Gene Clark's "Why Not Your Baby" (my favorite song of the night), while Benmont was, well, all over the place. He sang and played piano, accompanied by Sara, on a ballad for someone on Valentine's Day, but unfortunately, we didn't hear his song about Leslie Feist. Apart from the rather somber tune as well as his always meticulous playing, Benmont was downright giddy, commenting on Sean's raspy voice and generally baiting Sara. He also played bass on a couple of songs. He clearly needs to tour with Mudcrutch more often!

They took some time trying to figure out how to end the night, spurning more common requests such as "Tall Buildings" and "Short People." They came to a consensus on "Cherokee Stomp," which allowed all the players to let their hair down, while simultaneously raising the roof. Yee-haw!

the world will revolve

I did, in fact, make it to both Jon Brion shows over Easter weekend (though I'm sitting out this weekend's shows--someone else will have to holler back about them), but work got in the way of filing this report earlier. Also, I'm trying to stretch out these dispatches, as the next two weeks will be a ghost town around these parts. But never fear--the Coachella overflow is due to arrive at the end of April, preceded by the usual flights of rock tourism. In other words, stay tuned!

Jon Brion, Largo, March 22, 2008: Our Largo expedition tonight carried more than one goal. In addition to the usual agenda, there was also the matter of a shark to be loaned back to the office. In case any Cousteau Society members are reading, I'd like to report that Sharkie reached safe harbor.



These days, summoning the Largo reservation mojo hasn't been an issue, but filling those seats has, what with many of my normal concert companions less likely to travel and/or simply being predisposed. And maybe I'm just greedy. Though I'm usually game for picking people out of the no-reservations line, they can be oddly reluctant to accompany a couple of complete strangers into a dark club, even when it saves them the trouble of standing another four-plus hours (if they're lucky). Thus was the case this evening, but thanks to a little advance warning the night before, we slid into our seats next to a friendly, familiar face. I assume our four-top went to a good cause.

On Friday, our table directly bordered the stage, which always simultaneously thrills and unnerves me. It's amazing how much of the banter and discussions between the musicians you're privy to at this post, but there's a price for this proximity; in certain lighting, you feel like you're part of the show. Anyway, Largo and its PA being what it is, the conversation was not as audible this evening. All I know is that Flanny told us to put our knickers on, there were more murmurs by the stage, Jon issued one of his hearty laughs, and what I thought would be an amorphous piano piece suddenly sounded stately and familiar. I also picked out a bit of Dylan, but I wouldn't be surprised if a dozen other songs snuck in as well.

Jon kicked off with a bunch of originals and/or collaborations, as well as a couple of completely off-the-cuff improvs. He circulated around the stage, starting out on the keys, then paying two separate visits to the guitar for two completely different improvs (one at first feeling jaunty and Western before morphing into a heavy distorted stream; the other all fuzz pedal, all the time), with a stop at the drums for a song build in between. The semi-abridged version: "Someone Else's Song" needed no embellishment; "Over Our Heads" began and ended with the pitter-patter of the analog synth and relied less on the vocoder than typical; Jon pulled out all stops for "Further Along"; and he doubled back on "Excuse to Cry," revisiting the main melody in the song's bridge.

Jon invited the requests, and the audience obliged. Prince provided the launchpad, as "Controversy" oozed out, all whispery, minimal, and funky. Scott in the soundbooth added an enticing beat, and Jon went on a tear, plucking out Queen, the Jackson 5, Portishead, and Cream. The Portishead selection put a big grin on my face, as their impending Coachella appearance and new album have made them a topic of conversation among friends recently. Also, it won out for the "who'd have thunk Jon knew it" factor.

Jon's instincts took over for the rest of the set, first with a song build of "Girl I Knew" that flirted briefly with "Peter Gunn," then on to an all-instrumental rendition of what turned out to be "You Don't Know What Love Is." Someone with ears sharper than my own could probably pick it out earlier, but I never know whether he's going to play this or "Someone to Watch Over Me" until well into the song--often when the vocals start.

The breezy "Knock Yourself Out" gave way to "I Believe She's Lying," for which Jon called on the 12-string guitar, the analog synth, the piano, and of course the drums to build it in all its sprawling glory. With this, he bade the first set adieu.

The second set got off to a promising start when Jon picked up some vibe from the reverb feedback and mentioned that it sounded like Pink Floyd. That was pretty much all the direction he needed to fashion the prog atmospherics. Toward the end, he asked the stage lights be dimmed so that he could create his own light show. He did so by turning the little light attached to the piano on and off--not exactly a college planetarium on any given Saturday night, but you get the idea.

I think Jon asked for requests again, and bounding across the room came a hearty call for "Tom Waits doing Van Halen," which Jon dispatched jauntily, though his comments might've led you to believe it wreaked some karmic damage along the way. That same voice tried to get in another tune, yelling out for "Van Halen doing Tom Waits," but it was back in Jon's hands by then as Tom Waits, plain and simple, won out.

Jon struck a familiar pose, poised at the mic with the guitar hung over his frame, and asked for requests. But rather than steadfastly waiting for the exact song that lit his fire or taking note of the titles bandied about so that he could create a mega-medley of all of them, Jon took a new tack: He truly went into human jukebox mode and served up a snippet of just about every challenge presented to him.

I believe Evonne's appeal for "California Man" kicked off the proceedings, but soon we were careening through a laundry list of great tunes. I make no claims about logging them all, but I know we heard the Zombies, the Hollies, the Kinks, the Nazz, Bowie, and Adam and the Ants, among others. I finally managed to get out my request for "Our Lips Are Sealed," and I loved it when he did Aztec Camera too. Ahh, the '80s!

Apart from the awesome cavalcade of titles, what Jon chose to do with the songs was the real show. For some, he would do nothing more than play a familiar riff; for others, he might drop in a line. Evonne mentioned that she thought I might've broken through, as he sang a verse and the chorus of my request, but alas, that's where it ended. "Oblivious," too, sounded like it might have cracked the code, but he cut that one short as well.

Jon had started a glam-inflected guitar riff when he decided to bring Tom Biller to the stage to play some T. Rex-style drums. After some consultation, the two ripped into "The Slider."

After that, it was all Jon again, as he hunkered down for a lengthy keys-based improv that brought to mind Rube Goldberg but gave way, to all things, Chicago's "Saturday in the Park," followed by Pink Floyd and "Over the Rainbow."

Then for his final number, he promised something from a "moody fucker" and set the scene with Fleetwood Mac's sultry and languid "Albatross." Normally, I'd be at a loss with this instrumental tune, but fortunately, I recognized it from an earlier performance, and it beautifully capped off this night as well.

Set 1
--Le Marseillaise
--Positively 4th Street/piano improv
--Someone Else's Problem Now
--Over Our Heads
--guitar improv
--Further Along
--Excuse to Cry
--fuzz guitar exercise
--Controversy/Another One Bites the Dust/I Want You Back/Nobody Loves Me/Strange Brew
--Girl I Knew
--You Don't Know What Love Is [instrumental]
--Knock Yourself Out
--I Believe She's Lying

Set 2
--Pink Floyd experience
--Running with the Devil [Tom Waits style]
--In the Neighborhood
--California Man/She's Not There/Our Lips Are Sealed/Oblivious/Bus Stop/Sorry Suzanne/Open My Eyes/Waterloo Sunset/Moonage Daydream/Fuck the Police + many others!
--The Slider *
--Saturday in the Park/Bike/Over the Rainbow
--Albatross

* = with Tom Biller

See also:
» the end is near
» like a dream in the night

the end is near

My current consuming crush on all things English and nautical has pushed just about every other musical concern to the back of my mind. But my loyalties run deep, and it's always a pleasure to be reminded why.

Jon Brion, Largo, March 21, 2008: There was no question whether I'd make this weekend's Jon Brion shows. But at the same time, my brain has jumped ahead to May plans, so the points in between haven't carried their normal weight. Perhaps that's why for the first time in a while, I had no requests ready for the show.

Not that Jon called for them too quickly. He started out with a good chunk of his own songs, including the perennial favorite "Here We Go." I wish I could talk about the phrasings he used, but trust me--though subtle, they were hugely effective in changing the tenor of the song and making you question the narrator's acceptance and account. In between, we got a number of extended instrumental patches, both improvisational and more composed. For example, Jon played a drawn-out guitar preamble before making his way to "Not Long for This World," and once within the song, he inserted another lengthy, aggressive guitar attack. He even commented on it at the end of the tune, saying he had "enough '90s guitar noise."

This is when the requests started, first with "She Said, She Said" delivered over the vocoder (and with a snippet from the Beastie Boys thrown in for good measure), then over to Evonne's suggestion for "End of the Line." It was initially hard to tell whether Jon would take it up, as he remarked he'd do it when the rest of Roxy Music showed up. But he warmed up to the challenge, finding his way around the lyrics and the melody--and making Evonne a very happy woman in the process. He appended the song with a convincing argument to pick up Siren, urging us to look past the usual critical darlings in Roxy Music's discography. (I already have all the albums, so no worries there.)

The next song may have been my favorite treatment of the night. It started slowly, with Jon building up a minimal beat, then matching it with appropriately understated turns on piano and celeste. By then, I knew it was "Creep" by Radiohead, a song that Jon used to cover fairly regularly but that I hadn't heard in a while. And in fact, the last time I recall hearing it, Jon put a relatively traditional spin on it. That is, he used guitars, a much more identifiable Radiohead trademark.

Everything about this song elated me, including seeing Jon tipped back and balanced precariously on the piano bench as he sprinkled just the right helping of keys into the build. By the time he introduced the mellotron to the mix, I was delighted to hear it paired with anything Radiohead at all. I was hoping Jon would keep it all instrumental, but late in the game, he added vocals, though not so prominently that they overtook the musical bauble.

Once the requests started up again, an audience member's call for "Alone Again Or" turned into "Alone Again Naturally" by the time it hit the stage, but the room returned to that somewhat awkward situation when our requests just weren't taking hold with Jon. In fact, if there's anything I need to note about this show, it's that the music comprised a smaller portion of the set than records might indicate. When he wasn't drawing out the intros and codas, Jon talked quite a bit, reacting to our exchanges and simply wearing the lecturer's hat from time to time.

Anyway, I think it was during this section when he first mentioned Largo's impending move and how he had tackled so many of the suggestions before. This provided the springboard for the Paula Abdul request, which in turn opened the door to the cheese factor. Silliness isn't necessarily a bad thing at Largo, though I have to commend Jon for resisting most of the shitty songs bombarding the stage.

Jon at first jocularly demurred from the Paul Anka request, telling a story about seeing a show by Lester Bowie, who took such "insipid" songs as "My Way" and "The Greatest Love of All" and made them into amazing compositions. Maybe this recollection inspired him because Jon dug into "My Way," first turning out a jazzy abstraction, then adding drums for what I'd call his White Album-style treatment (see also: "You Don't Know What Love Is" and "Someone to Watch Over Me"). To cap it off, he informed us of David Bowie's role in writing the song, including co-opting the chord changes for "Life on Mars."

Jon liked the request for the Velvet Underground but wanted a style to go with it. Out popped my idea for Giorgio Moroder (thanks, American Gigolo!) and off we went. After hearing this musical bastard child, I'm not sure the two were meant to come together, though it was fun listening to Jon pull the big bag of beats out of the MicroKORG.

"The Final Countdown" was helped along by Michael's recollection of that keyboard melody, then it was back to square one as the requests again hit an impasse. Jon commented that he wanted to hear us sing, which prompted the snappy retort, "What do you want to hear?" from a girl near me. Finally, the tables were turned, as Jon struggled (he admitted as much) to figure out a song we could do for him!

To no one's surprise, he settled on the Beatles, but our initial attempt was abysmal. I have to admit that though I love "You Won't See Me," I didn't recognize it at first. After recovering from his disbelief at our ignorance, Jon charitably fed us the first line--but what else could he do in that gulf of silence? I love a sing-along, but I got the distinct impression I was one of maybe a dozen people in the room throwing any conviction into the vocals. We lasted two and a half verses, I think, before Jon tried a different tact. The Lennon tune proved much more fruitful, though I can't say it was one of the better audience showings at Largo.

I'm going to say the Michael McDonald request was done for shits and giggles before Jon decided to draw the "weird" set to a close with a couple of his own songs. "Knock Yourself Out" was all keys-based, complete with a shimmery layer of musical pixie dust, otherwise known as the celeste, while for "Please Stay Away from Me," Jon purposely sang off mic for about half the song. Finally, the single response to Jon's call for a cover song married Cat Stevens to Les Paul--figuratively, of course--for, he assured us, the first time ever.

The second set opened with Jon once again chatting and referring to the oddly paced first set. He promised to make it up to us, but I don't think anyone in the room particularly minded ducking or lunging through the song selections.

The musical start put us back on more familiar ground, as "But Beautiful" poured forth. More comforting, at the song's conclusion, Jon hollered for Sean Watkins and David Garza to join him. There was a lot of talk about this segment of the show being [insert best late-night radio DJ voice] "for the ladies," and Jon even made David parade his new short, fetching haircut and sort of forced Sean into showing off his new guitar.

With some prodding, Sean took the first number, which I've heard them do with Nickel Creek, though I'm pretty sure Chris Thile took the vocals last time. I think he stumbled upon the opening lyrics, but who hasn't done that? (See "You Won't See Me" above.)

Next up was David, who in typical manner took a highly unlikely tune, flipped it around, and brought in the audience. "Yakety Yak" certainly started out conventionally, or as conventionally as you can imagine with the three-man lineup, but after a series of solos by each player, they tempered the pace to make it a slow, "sensitive" number. And when it came our turn to pitch in with "Don't talk back," we picked up the cue and modulated our tone appropriately. Yay audience!

David's second outing during the musical round-robin was just as entertaining. The big, beautiful hollow-body Chet Atkins guitar may have provided the inspiration, but of course, it was David's to run with as he gave us "Stray Cat Strut." He tried to pass on soloing opportunities to his bandmates, but Jon insisted that David work it--and he obliged.

It was up to Jon to conclude the set, and after a few moments of brainstorming, he hit upon a favorite cover, once again reinterpreted, this time as a jazzy torch song. I have very distinct memories surrounding "Tainted Love," including Soft Cell's appearance on Solid Gold (!), but my favorite recollections are of my friends and I singing it at the top of lungs, most likely at a birthday party or some other teenage celebration. If only those old pals could see (and hear) me now.

Set 1
--piano improv
--Strings That Tie to You
--Here We Go
--Croatia
--Not Long for This World
--She Said, She Said/Intergalactic
--End of the Line
--Creep
--Alone Again Naturally
--Straight Up
--My Way
--Pale Blue Eyes
--The Final Countdown
--You Won't See Me
--You've Got to Hide Your Love Away
--What a Fool Believes
--Knock Yourself Out
--Please Stay Away from Me
--Wild World [Les Paul]

Set 2
--But Beautiful

w/ David Garza and Sean Watkins
--Run for Your Life [Sean]
--Yakety Yak [David]
--Ain't Misbehavin'
--You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go [Sean]
--Stray Cat Strut [David]
--Tainted Love

See also:
» some people gonna get ideas
» Night 2: the world will revolve

you got a lotta nerve

Anyone's who had to listen to me report for the gazillionth time how much British music I've devoted myself to knows that I'm not good at mixing genres, but I'm sometimes forced to consider the possibilities. Case in point: Saturday night at Largo, when talk of boy bands and classic rock dominated the conversation, to hilarious effect.

Jon Brion, Largo, February 23, 2008: My neck got a pretty good workout Friday night, but it was just a warmup for Saturday, when the unidentified older gentleman sitting with Sean and Sara Watkins kept us staring at the kitchen entrance for most of the night. On the other hand, we spied Jay Bellerose (who had, apparently, been whisked straight to Largo from the airport, fresh off a plane from Belgium) and Paul Bryan pretty quickly--does that count??

Exhibiting the same good cheer as the night before, Jon handled the first set by himself. Among his own tunes, the builds of "Didn't Think It Would Turn Out Bad" and "Better You Than Me" were spectacular, both exploding in bursts of aggressive guitar, though not in exactly the same way.

The covers ran the gamut from the half-remembered "Nothing from Nothing," the tepid audience singalong for "Care of Cell 44," my generational signifier "Love My Way" (which I always want to request, except I fear it's a total cliche), and the almost unrecognizable "Girl from Ipanema," which Jon drew out from walls of distortion and feedback. Oh, and of course there was the breezy, beloved "More Than This," which got a helping hand from Scott in the soundbooth as well as Jon's own feet, keeping time.

The second set, as it often does, got off to an unassuming start (other than that huge "gotcha" mug sent in our direction, but that's another story) before we realized that taking his place among the favorite Largo faces was John Paul Jones--the bass player for that newly reunited band, Led Zeppelin. (Full disclosure: The two major classic rock bands I'm least familiar with are the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin.) He donned a darling Danelectro (alas, stealing Paul Bryan's spot in the process) and melted right into the group.

The collection of players--Jon, Jay, Benmont, Sara, and Sean--are no strangers to one another, and I've seen them both rip the roof off the joint and share more inside jokes than a pack of mean girls. Tonight, though, they proceeded rather gingerly through a set, slightly on the short side, of mostly familiar songs, and though their mutual respect was, as always, intact, they showed more reserve than usual. I suspect that they were taking it easy on the new guy making his Largo debut; it also sort of explains why they solicited no requests either. As our table's giddy interloper remarked, a Monkees tune might indeed have blown Mr. Jones's mind.

In all, Benmont's Ramones campaign proceeded apace (this time, he took the acoustic guitar), and Sean turned out a tune I hadn't heard from him before, but Jon--surprise, surprise--came up with the best moments of the second set. His directions to Jay to "make it dirty" and the sustained scream alone on "Slow Down" would've been a memorable enough imprint of the night, but he followed it up with the chiming, enveloping "Positively 4th Street." As we left a little after 1 a.m., both happy customers, we wondered aloud if the night's real concert was yet to take place behind closed doors.

Set 1
--Someone Else's Problem Now
--Same Thing
--Excuse to Cry
--Didn't Think It Would Turn Out Bad
--Trial & Error
--Nothing from Nothing
--Care of Cell 44
--Better You Than Me
--Love My Way [Les Paul]
--Girl from Ipanema
--Walking Through Walls
--More Than This
--I Believe She's Lying

Set 2
with Jay Bellerose, John Paul Jones, Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, and Sean Watkins
--More Pretty Girls than One [Sean]
--Write Myself a Letter [Sean]
--I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend [Benmont]
--My Baby Left Me [Jon]
--Freight Train [Sara]
--Slow Down [Jon]
--I Wanna Be Sedated [Benmont]
--Positively 4th Street [Jon]
--Paper Moon [Jon]

See also:
» use your mentality

use your mentality

As Jon Brion's February dates happened to fall on the one weekend I could escape to L.A., I wasn't about to squander the coincidence on a stupid cold. Besides, after Chicago, I knew I could survive anything.

Jon Brion, Largo, February 22, 2008: I have no ulterior motives for going to Largo; that is, I try not to second-guess guest appearances or surprise cameos. I'm perfectly content with the prospect of letting the headlining artist or artists do their thing any way they want.

That said, I'm not above gawking, and the weekend's perch afforded a handful of sightings. Friday night, Liam Finn was easily spotted at the back booth, but as the evening progressed, we noticed Aimee Mann and Michael Penn taking a table as well. They later provided an extended pit stop for Jon on his way to the stage, exchanging big hugs and lively conversation before Jon had to get on with the show. Alas, Aimee and Michael slipped out quietly before the end of the first set, so no one had the opportunity to request "Nightmare Girl."

I'm pretty sure, though, that Aimee and Michael saw, at the very least, Bobb Bruno opening with a very short ambient set (once again taking the stage to Wilco's "Outtasite"), followed by Jim Turner as Mr. Tremendous.

From there, Jon took over the reins in great spirits and a new, short haircut (Faces style, as ID'd by Evonne). The cover of They Might Be Giants -- and, come to think of it, Gavin Bryars, which Jon welcomed with a guffaw and Waits-style intonation -- came via an audience request, while the Dylan number reaffirmed its status as Jon's current favorite blank slate, the one he likes to prod and poke with as many styles as he can dream up.

Of his own songs, "Further Along" went minimal, featuring only harmonica and electric guitar and, in the process, shedding a new light on the tale of picking up and moving on. "Croatia," meanwhile, was called off in favor of "Girl I Knew" when Jon announced, "Fuck it, I need to rock." There was also a moment in "Happy With You" when Jon stood before us with his hands over his heart and not on any instrument, while the loops and layers continued to chug along in support. Of course, I know he does this all the time, but it was a great visual reminder of what Jon carries off better than anyone else.

Liam Finn and EJ opened the second set, stepping out from the back booth and manning the guitar and mic, while Jon went for the drum kit. With lots of encouragement from Jon, they blasted out four songs -- and sounded great doing it. I've missed Liam's recent appearances in the Bay Area (though I was fortunate to catch him opening for his father at Largo several years ago), so this was a great opportunity to hear his newest material.

After trying out the new vocoder with a string of the instrument's "greatest hits," Jon halfway apologized and announced he was going to play standards for the rest of the night because that's what he felt like doing. He should've known that the Largo audience would get behind that, and I think we did, supplying all our favorite titles, even if Jon's ultimate plans for each song were far from faithful ("My Funny Valentine" paired with a disco beat; "Over the Rainbow" interpreted solely through electric guitar distortion; "Anything Goes" in the style of Les Paul). A pre-show conversation at our table happened to invoke "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," complete with lyrics, which helped to a certain extent when Jon asked for the first line of the song. But when the second verse flummoxed us all, Jon commented that it was starting to sound like a Bryan Ferry covers record -- high praise at our table -- and accordingly, he went into the matching vocal stylings. Eeeeee!

The standards agenda soon narrowed in scope to Cole Porter, though Jon vetted the requests based on whether he could remember the lyrics. I was desperately trying to recall titles from my biggest exposure to Cole Porter (the Red, Hot, and Blue compilation from the early '90s), but the only song that occurred to me, "Miss Otis Regrets," was swatted away for having "37 verses ... and someone dies in the 12th verse" (fair enough). The songs we did get included a rockin' "Night and Day" that saw Jon audibly singing the rhythm and chord changes as he approached each instrument he was about to loop, as well as the aforementioned "Anything Goes."

For the last number, Jon sat down at the piano, but the familiar strains issuing from the mellotron/Chamberlin/whatever were more contemporary than expected. Following this lead, Jon commanded Liam to take the drums and help him out for something "evil." Liam steadfastly played along as Jon mirthfully threw a series of Porter songs at the Beatles melody; with a healthy giggle, he finally settled on a technique that married, to eerie effect, the '60s-style instrumentation with a tempered reading of "I've Got You Under My Skin."

Set 1
--Bobb Bruno [opener]
--Jim Turner as Mr. Tremendous [opener]

--piano improv/I Fall in Love Too Easily
--Don't Let Start
--Love of My Life
--Happy with You
--The Way It Went
--Get Over Yourself
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Further Along
--Jesus Blood Never Failed Me Yet
--Same Thing
--Croatia [partial]
--Girl I Knew/Everything Works if You Let It/Don't Think Twice It's Alright
--Meaningless
--Life on Mars
--So I Fell in Love with You

Set 2
w/ Liam Finn & EJ
--Wise Men
--Better to Be
--Music Moves My Feet
--This Place Is Killing Me

--Funkytown/Let's Groove/Intergalactic
--Home Sweet Home
--Everytime We Say Goodbye
--My Funny Valentine
--Smoke Gets in Your Eyes
--Over the Rainbow
--Night and Day
--Anything Goes
--Let's Do It (Let's Fall in Love)
--I've Got You Under My Skin/Strawberry Fields Forever [with Liam]

See also:
» today's the day
» no one alerted you

today's the day

If it feels a little like Groundhog Day around here--you can't tell me you're surprised. But in case you're wondering, I will eventually see musicians mentioned fewer than 10 times in this blog. Check back at the end of the month, but be warned: It's gonna get a whole lot worse before it gets better. Carry on.

Aimee Mann, Largo, February 5, 2008: Largo's monthly calendar is an endless source of temptation for me, but believe it or not, sanity usually wins out. For example, in the run-up to Aimee's show, I waffled more than a line cook at an IHOP as I weighed the prospect of shoehorning another trip into a month already laden with out-of-town engagements vs. seeing one of Largo's most famous patrons almost literally in her element. In the end, a lovely little coincidence/excuse availed itself, and I latched onto that loophole like the world-class rationalizer I am. That's a good reason, right?

Two years ago, I saw for myself how awesome the combination of Aimee Mann and Largo could be. I know I parrot endlessly the idea that there's no place like Largo, but certain artists drive home that point to a prodigious degree. Of that group, you'll find no better example than Aimee.

Take, for example, her gig here last month. Aimee and gang put on a valiant effort, but I gotta say they were a bad match for the club and the event. However, I left more disappointed in the audience than the artists.

Fast-forward a month, though, and you'll find no such worries at Largo, and Aimee allayed these concerns immediately, arriving onstage with the buoyant cry of "Mitt Romney '08!" Rest assured, it was strictly Super Tuesday humor; she later called the former governor of Massachusetts "creepy"; there were words for Huckabee and Bush too.

So along with her trusty cohorts Paul Bryan and Jamie Edwards, who filled out the "acoustic-Moog trio," she did a bunch of new songs from her forthcoming album, Smilers, arriving in April. They opened with two tracks that are already settling into her live repertoire, "Freeway" and "31 Today," which I've tried to describe earlier. In all, we heard seven or eight songs from the new LP tonight. I realized I've heard at least a couple of them before; she aired the one with the "bitch" lyric at that 2006 Largo show and the duet with Sean Hayes (though Paul Bryan filled in tonight) at the most recent Christmas shows.

You know that Aimee isn't about to release, say, a Timbaland remix anytime soon, so it should come as no surprise that the Smilers material featured her trademark songcraft and workmanship. But in case you were bracing yourself for the tempered tone of Lost in Space and The Forgotten Arm, you might like to know that we even heard some upbeat numbers, such as "Freeway," the Sean Hayes duet, and another song that was commissioned (and ultimately rejected) by the makers of Shrek III.

Anyway, that was the first half of the show. The second half comprised older songs, mainly requests, from a wide swathe of her solo discography. There were a few miscues, such as when Aimee and Paul "let" Jamie tickle out a prolonged intro for "Video" while they settled some musical question between them. On another song (I can't recall which), Aimee sang the entire first verse in the wrong key before she realized it, 'fessed up, and corrected herself--quite charmingly, I might add.

Her choice of backing players was not so surprising on the surface, as both Paul Bryan and Jamie Edwards have been with her for a while now, but it was odd to see only the two of them. That is, there was no drummer, aside from Aimee briefly batting the bongos for "You're with Stupid Now." Instead, they made up a lean, agile unit that allowed Aimee to entertain a well-edited bundle of audience suggestions. In fact, I think this was the first show I've seen where Aimee didn't do any Magnolia-related tunes. On the other hand, we got some unexpected choices, such as "How Am I Different," which I didn't expect to work as well as it did without electric guitar.

The night's unifying element was, of course, Aimee--not just her songs but her very demeanor. I don't think I've ever seen her so relaxed and open, and throughout the night--whether responding to an overzealous fan, relating the machinations behind soundtrack work, or bursting the encore bubble--her bone-dry humor grounded the sometimes tragic tales she weaves. Mostly, though, she made us laugh. A lot. Especially when she closed the show with another call for "Romney '08!"

I flew home the next morning, skipping Aimee's second Largo show (as well as an invite-only gig the day after--not that I got tickets for it anyway), and as you might expect, I felt a tinge of regret. On the other hand, I left with memories of a great show that reminded me why I love both Aimee and Largo. I'm looking forward to this new album and the gigs surely to follow.

See also:
» i'm the stuff of happy endings
» you look like a perfect fit
» unless you hate baby jesus

the first one said to the second one there

I hope you're having fun!

Jon Brion, Largo, January 12, 2008: If Jon Brion plays his first shows of the calendar year at a venue other than Largo, do they count, and has the year really begun? Well, they do, and it has, but there's still no place like Largo.

The night got off to an unassuming start, as Jon disappeared into an extended piano play--no synths, no celeste, no Chamberlin (or is it a mellotron? I can never tell). I want to say he touched upon Ellington, among other sources, but don't mind me. Whatever it was--and rest assured, it was quite awesome--we got the distinct impression that Jon was better prepared (however loosely defined) to face an audience tonight.

This became more evident when he launched into a string of original material. He graced "Same Thing" with an improvisational sequence that sounded new to me; built up "Didn't Think It Would Turn Out Bad," then poured into it several distinct guitar solos, including one that called to mind T. Rex; brought out the 12-string for "Love of My Life So Far"; and treated us to a simply breathtaking "Better You Than Me."

I don't want to read too much into the song selection, but next up was "Just What I Needed," which I'll gladly take as a compliment of the highest order. Some of us were probably *ahem* a little more enthusiastic than others in joining the chorus, but I can't think of better accompaniment for the song.

Now that we were in covers territory, Jon dished up a couple of favorites, though with his own twists. "Always Something There to Remind Me" went raw and garage-y, while "I Fall in Love Too Easily" was dosed with mellotron/Chamberlin/whatever. We briefly returned to Jon's back catalog with "Here We Go" (which I haven't heard in a while), but requests for other artists won out.

The strangest selection came from Jon himself. After a straightforward "Political Science" and an earnest though abbreviated attempt at "Baby Strange," Jon teased out the end theme to Davey and Goliath--go figure.

Once more, our requests failed to tickle Jon's fancy, but his response was a first: He brought up his assistant Bret, the "master of the microKORG." Without a trace of nerves, Bret churned out a deep, spacey beat that belied his rocker looks. Joining this "randomness," Jon created an ambient layer by sampling his own nonsensical vocals and dropping in the synth and the mellotron. And if you listened closely, you could hear Flanagan too, contributing a murmur of "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" from the soundbooth. But wait, there's more! Jon worked in some guitar, including a pinch of "Controversy," before they wrapped up the song.

The set closer, however, took a more familiar form as Jon asked for a cover to tackle. I managed to dredge up one of the dozens of suggestions I keep ready for Largo purposes, and apparently, it hit the mark. "It's Only Love," then, came up for the Les Paul treatment; granted, as with "Nowhere Man" from a couple months ago, I would love to hear Jon sing these songs, but then again, anyone can do that--so to speak. Even better, before he left the stage, Jon promised to bring up some friends for the second set.

The break between sets was a mixture of keen anticipation (especially after we caught sight of Largo stalwarts Jay Bellerose, Paul Bryan, and Benmont Tench at the back of the room) and booty-shaking revelry, fueled by the girlie drink Michelle had bought for me and Flanagan's handpicked playlist of Prince song after Prince song. As it turned out, several of the above elements would factor into the ensuing set.

As much as we enjoyed the dance party, we liked it even better when the players took to the stage and found their instruments. Flanagan took advantage of his bully pulpit/soundbooth to pump in more Prince and, thus, head off the threat of a lull. Once Benmont jumped on the song, there was no turning back, and the others fell in line for a double dose of The Artist. In the middle of "Controversy," Jon first went off on a scorching guitar solo, then guided the group to T. Rex. As much as I enjoyed the new faces and impromptu pairings in Chicago, this collection of seasoned talent reminded me why Largo will always have the upper hand.

A Bowie request brought on an epic rendition of "Moonage Daydream" that left no question of Jay Bellerose's brute power behind the drums. They rode this song all the way into "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," and I suspect Benmont threw a bunch of other references into the sonic stew as well. I can vouch for a quick nod to "Eleanor Rigby," and I'm also pretty sure Benmont instigated the turn toward "Sunny Afternoon." Beyond that, it's anyone's guess what they snuck in under our noses.

Last month, Evonne had been tipped off to a YouTube clip featuring Nick Lowe supported by three of the four musicians currently on the Largo stage (guess which ones), and in fact, we had watched the segment earlier that day. With the video buzzing in our heads and those very same players assembled in front of our eyes, it was only natural that we'd hit upon the idea of requesting some Nick Lowe. Ta da: "Cruel to Be Kind!" The singalong was less prominent compared to November, but then again, there was a whole band backing Jon this time.

"Time of the Season" required our assistance as well, but the Tom Waits-style vocals were all Jon's. I'm so used to hearing Jon doing this either by himself or with Benmont that Jay's contributions took me by surprise. All of a sudden, the song had teeth--and they were great.

Jon ducked over to the analog synth to start up a pulsating drone, then matched it to an unlikely tune: "Baby, You're a Rich Man." Even Benmont took a stab at the contraption, and it occurred to me that I would've liked to hear Paul help out with the vocals. He definitely knows how to harmonize, but alas, he stuck with the bass all night.

It's impossible to cite a single Largo memory as my favorite, but I tend to come back to a handful of recollections from my earliest visits (i.e., before I started writing this stuff down): that time Jon did my request for "When Doves Cry," the quick line from "Slave to Love," a sublime rendition of "When Love Breaks Down" for Flanny. And frankly, I'm shameless in trying to re-create these instances.

High up on that list is a Wings medley that encompassed the whole room; I think it must've taken place some time in 2000. Anyway, I remember how great it felt to roar out "Silly Love Songs" and "Band on the Run" with the crowd, and lately, I've yearned to do it again. Finally, in the year 2008, it happened.

It started out with a simple request, followed by an inscrutable pause, and the next thing I knew, Jon played the opening riff from "Band on the Run." I, predictably and (according to Michelle and James, seated by the bar) loudly, dorked out. I can't even tell you how gratifying it was to hear these four pros working on one of my favorite songs, nor can I begin to describe the exhilaration of belting it out. Instead, I'll report that Jon sang the keyboard solo from the tune's second movement and glossed over a few lines from the later choruses. No harm done--I was just glad to be there.

"Band on the Run" set Jon's brain down a path as well, as he tried to think of the hardest songs they could do. (It never occurred to me that the three discrete segments of "Band on the Run" could've held him back at any point.) The first one they tried was a horrific track by Kansas, followed by Evonne's call for "Roundabout." Before the latter even began, you could see both Benmont and Jay clutching their heads in anticipation of the impending migraine, sorta like how Heidi winces during "Sentimental Lady." They gave it a shot, but mercifully abandoned the track before long. Jon commented that Benmont started a band to get out of playing songs like that, and Benmont concurred, quoting some of the lyrics as "fighting words" where he comes from.

A Steely Dan request from the crowd inspired "Any Major Dude," which led Jon to quip that they were the opposite of a pub rock band, forgoing feelgood anthems in favor of works by meticulous studio bands. There was also the matter of a Led Zeppelin song to get through, then it looked as if we were close to calling it a night.

Jon threw it back to Jay, asking him to start a beat that the others would work around. Jay responded with a primal, driving rhythm; Evonne heard Bo Diddley, Michelle and I swore it was Bow Wow Wow. Regardless, it inspired Jon to proclaim, "I love you." Paul was the next one to find his place in the impromptu arrangement, then Jon jumped in with, of all things, "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright." By the time Benmont added his take, the Dylan classic had become a blues-rock-jazz amalgam that worked better in some parts than others. Jon's vocals might've been the least effective aspect of the song, but then again, it's all part of the fun. Benmont, though, ruled, reimagining the pacing and melody in ways I never would've imagined.

For the past month or so, I've basked in a very odd sensation: the satisfaction of knowing an obscene number of Jon Brion shows awaited me in the near future. With this weekend engagement, the smugness is gone. And I hate it. February, anyone?!

Set 1
--piano improv
--Get Over Yourself
--Same Thing
--Excuse to Cry
--Didn't Think It Would Turn Out Bad
--Love of My Life So Far
--Better You Than Me
--Just What I Needed
--Always Something There to Remind Me
--I Fall in Love Too Easily
--Here We Go
--Political Science
--Baby Strange
--Davey and Goliath end theme
--duet with Bret on the MicroKORG
--It's Only Love [Les Paul]

Set 2
w/Jay Bellerose, Paul Bryan, and Benmont Tench
--I Wanna Be Your Lover
--Controversy/Bang a Gong
--Moonage Daydream/While My Guitar Gently Weeps/Sunny Afternoon
--Cruel to Be Kind
--Time of the Season
--Baby You're a Rich Man
--Band on the Run
--Carry On My Wayward Son
--Roundabout
--Any Major Dude
--Misty Mountain Hop
--Don't Think Twice It's Alright

See also:
» we can be us
» don't give yourself away
» i'm younger than that now
» justify your special ways

justify your special ways

I'd consider it entirely reasonable if you asked me, at this point, whether there is such a thing as too much Jon Brion. I should hope, though, that you'd find wholly plausible my reply of hell fucking no.

Jon Brion, Largo, January 11, 2008: I love my city, but some aspects of L.A., such as the warm weather, the charming locals, that fish taco place on Hillhurst, and the pair of Jon Brion shows this weekend, are irresistible, especially during the winter. OK, I don't come to L.A. specifically for fish tacos (though they were pretty damn good), so let's get to the gig.

Jon started out on the keys, firing up the synths and punching at the piano for a good stretch before arriving at that exceedingly lovely chamber-pop version of "Anarchy in the U.K." he's been known to do and that I haven't heard in a while. In case we were wondering what brought about that unpredictable choice, Jon quickly confessed that he was as clueless as the rest of us and moved directly to taking requests. And though he made good on "Jesse's Girl" and its kissing cousin "Gigantic," he also remarked, "We're going to be in trouble."

With the room's brain trust already looking suspect, Jon went with his own works, but a certain rustiness showed up here too when he stumbled through the second verse of "I Believe She's Lying" and dodged technical problems in "Further Along." Issues aside, he landed on his feet with both tunes, especially "Further Along," which he presented with a mannered reading that was not only notably removed from the song's typically strident tone but surprisingly devastating as well.

The musicians I see over and over (and over) again have a knack for breathing new life into songs that I may have heard dozens of times before; it is this quality that keeps me coming back for more. Tonight, that "a ha" moment came during "Over Our Heads." As you might expect, he cranked up the console to the point that it was going off like a slot machine, albeit a tasteful one. But instead of sitting down at the piano and curling up to the vocoder, he instead picked up a guitar and gave us the most naked version of the song I may have ever heard. Though I certainly didn't mind the stop-and-start nature of the night's performance, it was truthfully the first time during the show that I felt maybe we were on our way.

Jon once again mentioned something about the show being a "disappointment," if only to himself, then resolved to wipe the slate clean and kick off the proceedings anew. Phase two started off with James's request for "anything off Tattoo You"--except that none of the Rolling Stones songs Jon proceeded to play were off that particular album. I barely know the Stones' catalog, but my tablemates were indispensable in piecing together an incomplete list of titles from the megamedley.

The songs I could pick out were "Pop Life" à la Eno, New Wave representing with Yaz's "Don't Go," and Daft Punk remixed on the celeste. Cue the disco pyramid!

Jon made an 180-degree turn in the brace of ballads that followed, including the White Album-style "Someone to Watch Over Me." After a snippet of Glenn Miller, he launched into one of my favorite staples of his current set, "More than This," but mixing it up, Scott in the soundbooth added a complementary beat, and Jon introduced an unfamiliar piano passage. As it turned out, he was barreling toward the next song, his own "I'm on a Roll with You."

Once more, Jon asked for requests, and though there was no shortage of ideas, none took hold, so it was up to Flanagan to determine the course of the rest of the night. Together, Jon and Flanny comprised sort of a tag team, with Flanny supplying the suggestions, while Jon performed, tweaked, and even commented on the songs. For example, he signed off of "Walk Away Renee" with the line "Fuck it, you're to blame"; heaped mountains of praise on "Queen Elvis"; and schooled us on the musical references in the Move's "Blackberry Way" (I'd totally sign up for that class).

After a little back and forth, they decided to bring Benmont Tench up for the rest of the set, and the two awaited Flanny's word. Jon carried off only a verse or so of "Blue Chair," but it was more than I've ever heard of the song from him, and for that I'm grateful. Also, it gave them a entry into "Slow Down."

With "Lithium," which turned out to be Flanny's last request of the night, Jon made the executive decision to do it as an instrumental, thus avoiding the impromptu American Idol trials we saw in Chicago. This was all Jon and Benmont needed to carry off what they do best. The two dug in their heels for a long medley, much of it instrumental and led in large part by Benmont. In fact, at one point, Jon sat down on one of the amps, and though he continued to play guitar, he was clearly taking advantage of the opportunity to bask in Benmont's mastery.

They bestowed the fullest treatment on "Isn't It a Pity," with Jon taking up the vocals for several verses. In contrast, "Hey Jude" was a brief instrumental nod, "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" warranted a couple of lines, and "Cortez the Killer" didn't dawn on me until nearly the end of the set. I have no problem admitting it's likely I missed most of their musical clues, aside from these no-brainers. I did notice, however, Jon thanking Benmont off mic for coming through tonight, and he certainly wasn't alone in that sentiment.

Setlist
--Anarchy in the UK
--Jesse's Girl/Gigantic
--I Believe She's Lying
--Further Along
--Same Mistakes
--Over Our Heads
--Love of My Life So Far
--Emotional Rescue/19th Nervous Breakdown/White Lines/Another One Bites the Dust/Pop Life/Miss You/Don't Go/Around the World
--Someone to Watch Over Me
--Please Stay Away from Me
--Strings That Tie to You
--More Than This/I'm on a Roll with You
--Walk Away Renee
--Queen Elvis
--The Slider
--Not Long for This World
--Blackberry Way

w/Benmont Tench
--Blue Chair
--Slow Down
--Lithium/lots of stuff/Isn't It a Pity/Hey Jude/Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey/Cortez the Killer

See also:
» that was hazy cosmic jive
» look at those cavemen go
» the first one said to the second one there

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