To mark my 11th occasion of seeing Jon Brion's Christmas show at Largo, everything was back to normal. That is, seats were claimed, friends were greeted, baked goods were presented. All was right in the world -- and to all a good night!
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 18, 2015: The annual Week Before Xmas in Los Angeles went well, with my third visit to Doug Loves Movies' 12 Guests of Christmas (thanks again to the kindness of strangers with extra tickets). The only slight downside: Since Christmas fell on a Friday, Jon's show was earlier than usual, which meant I couldn't take in the Watkins Family Hour or Largo's usual end-of-year treats. Still, I made it to the two marquee events.
Upon entry, you could see Jon's ultraspare setup: the always present piano, a few chairs, and a couple of microphones. I don't think a guitar showed up until Jon took the stage. But before we got to Jon's entrance, Flanny brought out a surprise guest: one Zach Galifianakis! As I understand it, Zach drops in at Largo from time to time, even now that he's a movie star, but his appearances are rarities and treats when they happen. He tried out a very short set, then made way for the headliner.
For the first several tracks, Jon stuck to the piano for maybe an improvised song, and even "Punch-Drunk Melody" started out with a long, wandering lead-up before it landed on the tune we know and love. "Ruin My Day" was the first straightforward tune of the night before Jon went back to another song I can't ID. However, I can report he threw his full body into it, with his feet keeping the time and responding to the notes.
Thus ended the first piano portion of the evening. Jon's shows have always evolved, even during his time at Fairfax, but in my opinion, his shows at the Coronet have become more populist. I don't mean that in a snobby way, but with a wider swath of fans to please, he sometimes goes for jokier moves. He's always tuned to "How Much Is That Doggie in the Window" and "If I Only Had a Brain," but they both became legitimate numbers tonight and garnered giggles and smiles. In the first nod to the season, he then went into a little bit of "Jingle Bell Rock" in a semi-fingerpicking style, before delving into "Nothing Between Us." I often request this oldie from Jon's catalog, so I was glad he got to it himself. Also, that might've been the first time I've heard it on acoustic guitar.
Jon asked for Sebastian Steinberg to join him, but Sebastian took longer than expected to arrive. In the meantime, Jon punched out a very fast version of "I Believe She's Lying." Speaking of, not going to lie -- I think I prefer the acoustic version of the song because it doesn't drag along excessively.
Sebastian's official arrival began with Jon returning to the piano and the Peanuts Christmas theme, with Sebastian leading Jon through chord changes -- imagine that! I can't even guess at their seconds song, and I only list "Caravan" as the third tune because I heard them name it. "Caravan" was actually proceeded by Jon thinking aloud as he worked out the tempo and shifts to get to the performance he wanted. I didn't understand a word of it, but it was interesting to hear, and the final product was rollicking and well-paced. The duo finished up with three of Jon's own titles, including a request from our friend Sarah two seats down for "Here We Go."
The next friend due up was David Garza, who grabbed the guitar. They turned over the reins to him, and give him credit for trying to stick with the holiday theme. He went with "Blue Christmas," kind of honky-tonk style, complete with one of the most remarkable hand-offs I've seen between musicians. At Largo, you see all kinds of artists playing together and sharing the stage, making room for each other's solo turns and encouraging one another to get in a few bars. Sometimes they'll tap each other on the shoulder or nod their head in encouragement. This night, I saw David slowly shift to playing rhythm guitar, then Jon jump into his solo without so much as a glance between the two. I mean, maybe this happens all the time when you've been breathing each other's musical fumes for so long, but it struck me as the concert equivalent of a no-look pass, culminating in an alley-oop.
David next tried that delightful mashup of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and "Roxanne," but truth be told, he didn't carry it off as well as earlier performers. Give him points for the attempt, though, and for convincing Sara Watkins to join the group.
One Watkins was not enough, so Sean took his bow as well, his own guitar in hand. They hit a Dylan song, which was marked by Jon playing percussion on his Guinness glass, no piano at all, then a request brought up Jon's "Trouble," with Sara on vocals. Though we hardly needed the reminder, Sara's voice is indeed quite lovely and even preferable to Jon's, and her violin was a gorgeous standby for the synths on the official studio version. Great -- now that I'm listening to the original again, I'm painfully reminded of how badly I want a follow-up to Meaningless.
The next request brought "Beast of Burden," which I've heard the Largo crew do before, but it's always a ton of fun as each performer tries to out-camp one another with their best take on Mick Jagger. Jon gave it a shot, but David gave it everything else for maximum effect.
For Sean's tune, they chose a traditional title that's been covered by both Lyle Lovett and the Raconteurs apparently. Of course, I know this only because I Googled the lyrics -- there's no way I would've know that on my own.
Jon asked Sebastian to remain onstage for the last couple of tunes, requests for "Moonage Daydream" and "Since I've Been Loving You." Then it was Jon by himself for a long, languid take on "Moon River" and the encore/closer of "Happy With You."
The party continued in the Little Room, with the David and the Watkinses and special guest Gaby Moreno. Rumor had it Jon might join them, but we didn't stick around long enough to find out. Please feel free to drop me a line if you can add to the report.
See you in 2016.
Setlist
Zach Galifianakis opener
-- piano
-- Punch-Drunk Melody
-- Ruin My Day
-- ???
-- How Much Is That Doggie in the Window
-- Jingle Bell Rock
-- Nothing Between Us
-- If I Only Had a Brain
-- I Believe She's Lying
-- Christmastime Is Here *
-- ??? *
-- Caravan *
-- Strangest Times
-- Knock Yourself Out
-- Here We Go
-- Blue Christmas **
-- Rudolph (You Don't Have to Put on Your Red Light) ***
-- From a Buick 6 ****
-- Trouble ****
-- Beast of Burden ****
-- Keep It Clean ****
-- Moonage Daydream *
-- Since I've Been Loving You/Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies *
-- Moon River
-- Happy With You
* = with Sebastian Steinberg
** = with Sebastian Steinberg and David Garza
*** = with Sebastian Steinberg, David Garza, and Sara Watkins
**** = with Sebastian Steinberg, David Garza, Sara Watkins, and Sean Watkins
Ghosts of Christmas past:
» let your heart be light
» i'm offering this simple phrase
» it's been said many times, many ways
» with soul power
» it's the end of the things you know
» you could say one recovers
» a really good time
» the things you do to keep yourself intact
» i've heard a rumor from ground control
» strangest times
Showing posts with label seanwatkins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seanwatkins. Show all posts
Monday, December 28, 2015
Monday, June 08, 2015
the subject now in question
How long has it been since I've been a regular at Jon Brion's show? Long enough that the young man sitting next to me asked me to stop clicking my retractable pen while I was taking notes because it was too loud. Bwahahahaha! Oh honey -- I was doing this back when you were dancing to your babysitter's Blink 182 CDs. I hope I didn't ruin his show (probably his third, tops). Anyway, this weekend offered me the chance at a double dip (Hello Kitty!) and of course filled out the schedule with a visit to Largo.
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, May 29, 2015: I do not suffer from FOMO. Instead, I may labor under FOGO (fear of going out -- tip of the hat to Susan for the phrase), but dammit if the recent promises of Jon Brion with a band didn't pique my interest. Alas, I couldn't make my way to those shows, and only a month later, Jon was back to his spartan setup. Other than a small rack of electric guitars (that went unused) on one side, every instrument was acoustic and unplugged, and the drum set was absent altogether. If a band were scheduled to assemble, they probably wouldn't be loud. (In fact, early on, we were promised guests, but we'll get there in time.)
As for the man himself, Jon emerged looking somewhat professorial in glasses and with notable cheer in his voice. He also carried a small folder with loose-leaf pages and informed us that he had new songs, though he didn't yet know the order of the verses. To start off, however, he went on an instrumental tear covering several songs. As I've said repeatedly, I'm not great at picking out older songs when no words are sung, so take my guesses with a grain of salt. That said, I think I heard Vince Guaraldi and Cole Porter ("Everytime We Say Goodbye"), though the latter might've been Chet Baker -- or Elvis Costello ("Almost Blue")? I want to say Randy Newman ("Dayton, Ohio - 1903") made it in too. However, I can report an I Heart Huckabees tune capped off the movement.
From there, Jon stayed on piano but turned to the lyric sheets for the first new song, which even on my first listen struck me as a Jon Brion classic in the making. We're talking four or five verses, with a couple of bridges and a nice clip to the tune. The phrase "my love" came up repeatedly -- which probably doesn't sound revolutionary, but it totally fit in the context of the tune. I would love to hear it again, no doubt in some form I couldn't predict.
Another new song followed, and at first, the pace reminded me a little of "Knock Yourself Out." The lyrics, however, were nothing to write home about it. Let's say this song holds promise but could use more attention.
The next song was not new, but it was a relatively rarity. I'm pretty sure it was "Row" from Eternal Sunshine, only with lyrics and extra poignancy. Jon ended this piano-based segment with "Happy With You," complete with all the spontaneous bits Jon is known for.
The acoustic guitar then came out, along with a call for requests. "Meaningless" landed first, followed by "Citgo Sign," a request from the patron sitting front and center, who I assumed has taken over the role of #1 fan. Jon said it might be the first time he's played it at the Coronet, which probably checks out. Jon capped off this segment with "I Believe She's Lying," and I should mention all of them got the extended treatment. For "I Believe She's Lying," Jon even changed up the vocals here and there.
Jon returned to the piano and his "hymnal" for the next song. If you read this blog enough, you know I don't love everything Jon has ever done, and this falls squarely into that pile. The lyrics were heavy-handed, and the melody itself didn't stand out. Unlike previous clunkers, this didn't morph into a 10-plus minute dirge (whew). OK, enough said!
At this point, Sebastian Steinberg came out, with his stand-up bass and an impressive beard. I likened him to Zeus, albeit with his long ponytail intact. Jon opened up the floor to requests, and after some back and forth, the Buzzcocks finally landed in a jazzy two-man piano-and-bass take. As if I needed a reminder of Jon's encyclopedic knowledge of music, but it's always nice to hear confirmation.
For the next request, Jon married a style of music with a song, which is how we got "Space Oddity" a la stride piano. Did you watch the last season of Mad Men? I've had at least one screaming moment during each episode, when an unexpected twist plays out. One of the moments -- MINOR SPOILER ALERT -- had to do with "Space Oddity." I will never not love this song in any form, and this one was a delight. Jon himself wore a big smile on his face for much of the tune, and Sebastian's slap bass added unexpected notes. Of course, it morphed into another style all together, but I'm not the person who could characterize it for you.
"Over the Rainbow," a request personally solicited by Jon from the person sitting in what was once my seat (AA24, in case you're wondering), was soon granted, and it was slow, pretty, and spare. Sebastian came close to a bass solo around the bridge -- so it was deliciously ironic when he declared he hated the song at its conclusion. For the record, Jon stated he did not.
Jon next picked up the acoustic guitar for an instrumental track, the kind that tend to stump me. In my notes, I have "I'm in the Mood for Love," but I could be way off, which is typical for standards. During the course of this song, Sebastian's face was like that of a silent movie actor, nodding and shaking along. By the end, both Jon and Sebastian were actively hamming it up for one another.
The requests continued, and Radiohead made it to the forefront. Jon returned to the piano, but hardly went traditional. The notes sounded like they were coming from a harpsichord or a toy piano, but eventually came back around to the "real" sound. This was a ton of fun, as well.
Jon followed up "Trouble," featuring a jazzy bridge, then a request for a song he gleefully reported he didn't like: "Rocky Raccoon." Susan next to me thought she heard Vince Guaraldi here. All I know is that it took a detour through, like, the Preservation Jazz Hall (note: I know nothing about the Preservation Jazz Hall), and it was decidedly loose, though not in a White Album sort of way. Make of that what you will!
Jon inquired into Sean Watkins' presence, and after a brief dash to the stage, he joined them for a couple of tracks: "I Go to Pieces" and "Tribulations," the latter a terrifying (in Sean's words) gospel song he recently learned. Brownie points go to Sean for the Back to the Future reference when he explained what it was like to try to teach a song to the bona fide geniuses beside him.
Sebastian stepped up for his vocal contribution, George Jones' "She Thinks I Still Care." This song may be one of the highlights of the evening, as we watched Jon and Sebastian switch instruments. I don't think I've ever seen Jon play stand-up bass! What a sight!
Jon returned to the piano and took over for the next song. I don't know if it was a request or his own selection, but he rolled out the always welcome "(What's So Funny About) Peace, Love, and Understanding." Jon went with a pretty classic power pop take on this song, which is fairly different from the slower version Nick Lowe plays these days. Trust me, there were no complaints.
Sean exited the stage, and we were left once again with Jon and Sebastian, this time for Jon's own "Please Stay Away From Me." This has become a semi-staple of Jon's set, and I hear hints of this and that with every listening, but for some reason, the Randy Newman-esque tone hit me between the eyes this time (perhaps because the earlier brick of a tune was probably trying too hard to take the same approach).
With that, Jon and Sebastian's show came to an end, but a couple dozen of us headed to the Little Room for extra songs from Sean. I didn't take notes here, but I can report he did my request for "Moonshiner," though only after he realized I wasn't asking for moonshine. I've heard him do this before, as Sean himself acknowledged, but I know it's far from a regular on the setlist. Nonetheless, he gamely attempted it, with a little help from Jackson (I think), undoubtedly Googling lyrics in the back.
I likely won't get back to Largo for a Jon Brion show until the fall, but I'm already looking forward to the next go-around.
Setlist
-- piano (like, five songs)
-- new song #1
-- new song #2
-- Row
-- Happy With You
-- Meaningless
-- Citgo Sign
-- I Believe She's Lying
-- new song #3
with Sebastian Steinberg
-- Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't)
-- Space Oddity
-- Over the Rainbow
-- I'm in the Mood for Love
-- Creep
-- Trouble
-- Rocky Raccoon
with Sebastian Steinberg & Sean Watkins
-- I Go to Pieces
-- Tribulations
-- Peace, Love, and Understanding
with Sebastian Steinberg
-- Please Stay Away From Me
See also:
» strangest times
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, May 29, 2015: I do not suffer from FOMO. Instead, I may labor under FOGO (fear of going out -- tip of the hat to Susan for the phrase), but dammit if the recent promises of Jon Brion with a band didn't pique my interest. Alas, I couldn't make my way to those shows, and only a month later, Jon was back to his spartan setup. Other than a small rack of electric guitars (that went unused) on one side, every instrument was acoustic and unplugged, and the drum set was absent altogether. If a band were scheduled to assemble, they probably wouldn't be loud. (In fact, early on, we were promised guests, but we'll get there in time.)
As for the man himself, Jon emerged looking somewhat professorial in glasses and with notable cheer in his voice. He also carried a small folder with loose-leaf pages and informed us that he had new songs, though he didn't yet know the order of the verses. To start off, however, he went on an instrumental tear covering several songs. As I've said repeatedly, I'm not great at picking out older songs when no words are sung, so take my guesses with a grain of salt. That said, I think I heard Vince Guaraldi and Cole Porter ("Everytime We Say Goodbye"), though the latter might've been Chet Baker -- or Elvis Costello ("Almost Blue")? I want to say Randy Newman ("Dayton, Ohio - 1903") made it in too. However, I can report an I Heart Huckabees tune capped off the movement.
From there, Jon stayed on piano but turned to the lyric sheets for the first new song, which even on my first listen struck me as a Jon Brion classic in the making. We're talking four or five verses, with a couple of bridges and a nice clip to the tune. The phrase "my love" came up repeatedly -- which probably doesn't sound revolutionary, but it totally fit in the context of the tune. I would love to hear it again, no doubt in some form I couldn't predict.
Another new song followed, and at first, the pace reminded me a little of "Knock Yourself Out." The lyrics, however, were nothing to write home about it. Let's say this song holds promise but could use more attention.
The next song was not new, but it was a relatively rarity. I'm pretty sure it was "Row" from Eternal Sunshine, only with lyrics and extra poignancy. Jon ended this piano-based segment with "Happy With You," complete with all the spontaneous bits Jon is known for.
The acoustic guitar then came out, along with a call for requests. "Meaningless" landed first, followed by "Citgo Sign," a request from the patron sitting front and center, who I assumed has taken over the role of #1 fan. Jon said it might be the first time he's played it at the Coronet, which probably checks out. Jon capped off this segment with "I Believe She's Lying," and I should mention all of them got the extended treatment. For "I Believe She's Lying," Jon even changed up the vocals here and there.
Jon returned to the piano and his "hymnal" for the next song. If you read this blog enough, you know I don't love everything Jon has ever done, and this falls squarely into that pile. The lyrics were heavy-handed, and the melody itself didn't stand out. Unlike previous clunkers, this didn't morph into a 10-plus minute dirge (whew). OK, enough said!
At this point, Sebastian Steinberg came out, with his stand-up bass and an impressive beard. I likened him to Zeus, albeit with his long ponytail intact. Jon opened up the floor to requests, and after some back and forth, the Buzzcocks finally landed in a jazzy two-man piano-and-bass take. As if I needed a reminder of Jon's encyclopedic knowledge of music, but it's always nice to hear confirmation.
For the next request, Jon married a style of music with a song, which is how we got "Space Oddity" a la stride piano. Did you watch the last season of Mad Men? I've had at least one screaming moment during each episode, when an unexpected twist plays out. One of the moments -- MINOR SPOILER ALERT -- had to do with "Space Oddity." I will never not love this song in any form, and this one was a delight. Jon himself wore a big smile on his face for much of the tune, and Sebastian's slap bass added unexpected notes. Of course, it morphed into another style all together, but I'm not the person who could characterize it for you.
"Over the Rainbow," a request personally solicited by Jon from the person sitting in what was once my seat (AA24, in case you're wondering), was soon granted, and it was slow, pretty, and spare. Sebastian came close to a bass solo around the bridge -- so it was deliciously ironic when he declared he hated the song at its conclusion. For the record, Jon stated he did not.
Jon next picked up the acoustic guitar for an instrumental track, the kind that tend to stump me. In my notes, I have "I'm in the Mood for Love," but I could be way off, which is typical for standards. During the course of this song, Sebastian's face was like that of a silent movie actor, nodding and shaking along. By the end, both Jon and Sebastian were actively hamming it up for one another.
The requests continued, and Radiohead made it to the forefront. Jon returned to the piano, but hardly went traditional. The notes sounded like they were coming from a harpsichord or a toy piano, but eventually came back around to the "real" sound. This was a ton of fun, as well.
Jon followed up "Trouble," featuring a jazzy bridge, then a request for a song he gleefully reported he didn't like: "Rocky Raccoon." Susan next to me thought she heard Vince Guaraldi here. All I know is that it took a detour through, like, the Preservation Jazz Hall (note: I know nothing about the Preservation Jazz Hall), and it was decidedly loose, though not in a White Album sort of way. Make of that what you will!
Jon inquired into Sean Watkins' presence, and after a brief dash to the stage, he joined them for a couple of tracks: "I Go to Pieces" and "Tribulations," the latter a terrifying (in Sean's words) gospel song he recently learned. Brownie points go to Sean for the Back to the Future reference when he explained what it was like to try to teach a song to the bona fide geniuses beside him.
Sebastian stepped up for his vocal contribution, George Jones' "She Thinks I Still Care." This song may be one of the highlights of the evening, as we watched Jon and Sebastian switch instruments. I don't think I've ever seen Jon play stand-up bass! What a sight!Jon returned to the piano and took over for the next song. I don't know if it was a request or his own selection, but he rolled out the always welcome "(What's So Funny About) Peace, Love, and Understanding." Jon went with a pretty classic power pop take on this song, which is fairly different from the slower version Nick Lowe plays these days. Trust me, there were no complaints.
Sean exited the stage, and we were left once again with Jon and Sebastian, this time for Jon's own "Please Stay Away From Me." This has become a semi-staple of Jon's set, and I hear hints of this and that with every listening, but for some reason, the Randy Newman-esque tone hit me between the eyes this time (perhaps because the earlier brick of a tune was probably trying too hard to take the same approach).
With that, Jon and Sebastian's show came to an end, but a couple dozen of us headed to the Little Room for extra songs from Sean. I didn't take notes here, but I can report he did my request for "Moonshiner," though only after he realized I wasn't asking for moonshine. I've heard him do this before, as Sean himself acknowledged, but I know it's far from a regular on the setlist. Nonetheless, he gamely attempted it, with a little help from Jackson (I think), undoubtedly Googling lyrics in the back.
I likely won't get back to Largo for a Jon Brion show until the fall, but I'm already looking forward to the next go-around.
Setlist
-- piano (like, five songs)
-- new song #1
-- new song #2
-- Row
-- Happy With You
-- Meaningless
-- Citgo Sign
-- I Believe She's Lying
-- new song #3
with Sebastian Steinberg
-- Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't)
-- Space Oddity
-- Over the Rainbow
-- I'm in the Mood for Love
-- Creep
-- Trouble
-- Rocky Raccoon
with Sebastian Steinberg & Sean Watkins
-- I Go to Pieces
-- Tribulations
-- Peace, Love, and Understanding
with Sebastian Steinberg
-- Please Stay Away From Me
See also:
» strangest times
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
no matter what the future brings
Did you make any New Year's resolutions? I didn't, but I'm vaguely trying to be more relaxed and less clinical--the tortuous setlists that pepper this blog exempted, of course. Thus, I didn't bother with year-end wrap-ups or rankings, though I think my favorites are all too clear. Still, you gotta know some things aren't going to change--such as my continuing attendance at Jon Brion's shows, including his first outing at Largo for 2010.
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, January 22, 2010: Didja hear? It's not only a new year, but a new decade as well! And despite sitting within spitting distance of several calendars, I apparently didn't get the memo. Case in point: The fact that I showed up at Largo with the misguided expectation that it would be business as usual, that I could waltz up to the gate and purchase a ticket on my own timetable, and that the rain would keep the droves away.
Wrong! (On two counts anyway.) Tonight, the masses were in attendance, including a gaggle of youths, as well as a recent Golden Globe-winning actor, if my stalkervision is to be trusted. Alas, my favorite seat had been claimed long before I arrived, but I was happy to get in at all.
In his opening remarks, Flanny noted that the night's proceeds would go to Habitat for Humanity, then made way for Jon, who arranged himself at the piano for the introductory passage: his simultaneously typical and atypical piano improv, a fairly straightforward "Ruin My Day," and an off-kilter "Same Thing." Regarding that last tune, if I had any real knowledge of music, I'd not only suggest he was playing a counterpoint-based version of the song, but I'd even know what that meant.
Or I can stop trying to show offDot Com and tell you that Jon veered from playing the melody, favoring weighty undertones instead of the song's normally ebullient air. In fact, it almost sounded like a different tune.
Jon went with more originals--and unreleased ones, at that--for his next rock block, leading me to entertain the idea that last month's promise of a follow-up to Meaningless may come to fruition after all. There's no telling what will happen to a song between the time Jon plays it onstage and when it's locked down in the studio, so it's kinda useless to describe what we heard at this show--but I'll try anyway.
The first tune was spare and distinct, with a lovely melodic lilt, and I don't recall hearing the last selection (performed on the piano) ever before. However, the middle work, titled "Piece of You," as Jon revealed in response to an audience inquiry, is a gorgeous reminder of why we want him to record a new album: It sounds fucking great.
Warm and jangly, it's steeped in a late-'70s vibe, definitely extending a nod to Neil Young, but with an undeniable pop hook. I'm completely biased, of course, but I can't tell you how many times I've had this very reaction to a new Jon Brion song, only to be left wondering if I'll ever hear it outside of Largo. At least it gives me a reason to come back.
The video mixers were next called into action, and Nels Cline was the first guest of honor, joined soon thereafter by Maria Callas. After a meandering prologue, Jon unveiled the selection: "Here We Go." It wasn't the scorched-earth version we heard in December, but Jon drew out the piece to incorporate symphonic strings, as well as his own touch of guitar and drums. The song, usually the epitome of stability and understatement, arced and swayed in Jon's hands tonight, until it brought to mind the outro to "I Want You (She's So Heavy)." "Here We Go"? More like away we went.
We got one more original, then dove into the covers, starting with "Life on Mars" on the vibes. The people sitting behind us were clearly delighted, based on the stream of giggles and gasps I overheard. They weren't alone, if the applause and laughter throughout the room were any indication.
In fact, I'd argue that the audience's very enthusiasm sent Jon into crowd-pleaser mode for this segment of the show. The newbie-dominated group gushed their appreciation of Jon's transitions and selections, and Jon, in turn, seemed to capitalize on this freshness with an extensive survey of his talents and versatility. Thus, we got Tom Waits doing Led Zeppelin (says the woman who knows nothing about either), a classic delivered with a healthy dose of distortion, and finally, the long-awaited return of the Beatles to Jon's setlists.
"Tomorrow Never Knows" is nothing less than a blowout in any performance, but tonight's rendition resulted in a broken guitar string, though it didn't stop Jon from playing; briefly quoted "Revolution" and "Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey"; and drew on more video footage, including a segment that Jon manipulated to make it appear as if Nels were record scratching. Whew! Oh, and those gigglers/gaspers behind me? They got a kick out of this one too--as did I.
For his encore, Jon took it down a notch with a solo acoustic "Love of My Life So Far." But the show wasn't over--on to the second set!
Over in the Little Room, Sara and Sean Watkins were the first to arrive onstage, and the presence of Jon's guitars gave us hope that he would show up eventually too. The siblings traded off songs, including some brand-new works and audience requests. Benmont Tench joined in next, then finally Jon took his place alongside them. Then it got really interesting.
Nature or nurture? It's a question that often crosses my mind at Largo. Do I come back again and again because the club draws so many of the artists that helped form my musical vocabulary? Or do those names dominate my listening habits because I've seen them at the club? The case can be made either way, but when certain faces pop up seemingly out of the blue, I lean toward the former and start wondering if some form of destiny is at work.
Granted, large tracts of my musical upbringing have never surfaced at Largo, but when Neil Finn drops in or Glenn Kotche is coerced onstage or Jon plays a Spoon song (then, years later, goes into the studio with them), I want to think it's not mere coincidence. At tonight's show, Charlie Sexton got me looking up star signs and reading the tea leaves all over again.
As I understand it, Charlie Sexton has been in Bob Dylan's touring band for a while now, but I'll always see him through the eyes of my 13-year-old self, thanks to the magic--or the curse--of music television and his hit single "Beat's So Lonely." I'm not sure how the clip stands up to contemporary scrutiny, but when it debuted, Charlie's striking profile couldn't be ignored, even in an era of aggressively telegenic musicians. Truth be told, the song wasn't effete enough for my teenage tastes, but the video stayed on my mind. See for yourself:
Flash-forward 25 years (OMFG, kill me now), and there he was, on the tiny stage of the Little Room, summoned by none other than Jon Brion. How did Charlie look? Pretty damn good, especially as he, Jon, and Sean threw goofy rock 'n' roll shapes around the mic.
But how did he do? Not too shabby there either. With Sara, Charlie spearheaded "Bye Bye Love," but Jon and Sean kicked in their harmonies too, while Benmont imbued it with a swinging beat. With that, their performance quickly shot up my list of favorite Largo moments.
The quintet went back to round-robin mode, sharing vocals and solos, as well as making requests of one another. By now, my eyes were glued to Jon and Charlie. For example, they contributed tasteful guitar notes to Benmont's downtempo take on ELO, and they came together to mine the rootsier aspects for "I'll Cry Instead"; coincidentally, it featured Jon's only true lead vocal of the second set. I hope it won't be the last I'll see of Charlie at Jon's shows.
To close out this long second set, Jon released the group and brought up Margaret Cho for a song they wrote together. I don't recall catching the title, but Margaret gave us some background on the song and explained that it's about an ex-boyfriend who stalked her after they broke up and didn't recognize himself in the lyrics. All you really need to know, though, is that Margaret has penned the greatest couplet in existence, rhyming "hottest girl you know" with "Margaret fucking Cho." Need I say more?
Set 1
--piano
--Ruin My Day
--Same Thing
--new song ["She's at it again/Once my rival, now my friend..."]
--Piece of You [new song]
--Here We Go
--Please Stay Away From Me
--Whole Lotta Love (?)
--As Time Goes By
--Tomorrow Never Knows
encore
--Love of My Life So Far
Set 2
Sara and Sean Watkins
--instrumental
--Any Old Time
--Damaged
--new song [Sara]
--Impossible
--Bella and Ivan
--new song [Sean]
--Hello Goodbye
Sara and Sean Watkins and Benmont Tench
--Hold What You Got
--I Go to Sleep
Sara and Sean Watkins, Benmont Tench, and Jon Brion
--Early in the Morning
--Mexican Home
Sara and Sean Watkins, Benmont Tench, Jon Brion, and Charlie Sexton
--Bye Bye Love
--Brand New Heartache
--Midnight Shift
--Can't Get It Out of My Head
--Don't Come Home A-Drinkin' (With Lovin' on Your Mind)
--?
--Pink Triangles
--I'll Cry Instead
Jon Brion and Margaret Cho
--new song?
See also:
» it's the end of the things you know
» i can teach you, but i have to charge
» i'll be out on the town
» owner of this corner and not much more
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, January 22, 2010: Didja hear? It's not only a new year, but a new decade as well! And despite sitting within spitting distance of several calendars, I apparently didn't get the memo. Case in point: The fact that I showed up at Largo with the misguided expectation that it would be business as usual, that I could waltz up to the gate and purchase a ticket on my own timetable, and that the rain would keep the droves away.
Wrong! (On two counts anyway.) Tonight, the masses were in attendance, including a gaggle of youths, as well as a recent Golden Globe-winning actor, if my stalkervision is to be trusted. Alas, my favorite seat had been claimed long before I arrived, but I was happy to get in at all.
In his opening remarks, Flanny noted that the night's proceeds would go to Habitat for Humanity, then made way for Jon, who arranged himself at the piano for the introductory passage: his simultaneously typical and atypical piano improv, a fairly straightforward "Ruin My Day," and an off-kilter "Same Thing." Regarding that last tune, if I had any real knowledge of music, I'd not only suggest he was playing a counterpoint-based version of the song, but I'd even know what that meant.
Or I can stop trying to show off
Jon went with more originals--and unreleased ones, at that--for his next rock block, leading me to entertain the idea that last month's promise of a follow-up to Meaningless may come to fruition after all. There's no telling what will happen to a song between the time Jon plays it onstage and when it's locked down in the studio, so it's kinda useless to describe what we heard at this show--but I'll try anyway.
The first tune was spare and distinct, with a lovely melodic lilt, and I don't recall hearing the last selection (performed on the piano) ever before. However, the middle work, titled "Piece of You," as Jon revealed in response to an audience inquiry, is a gorgeous reminder of why we want him to record a new album: It sounds fucking great.
Warm and jangly, it's steeped in a late-'70s vibe, definitely extending a nod to Neil Young, but with an undeniable pop hook. I'm completely biased, of course, but I can't tell you how many times I've had this very reaction to a new Jon Brion song, only to be left wondering if I'll ever hear it outside of Largo. At least it gives me a reason to come back.
The video mixers were next called into action, and Nels Cline was the first guest of honor, joined soon thereafter by Maria Callas. After a meandering prologue, Jon unveiled the selection: "Here We Go." It wasn't the scorched-earth version we heard in December, but Jon drew out the piece to incorporate symphonic strings, as well as his own touch of guitar and drums. The song, usually the epitome of stability and understatement, arced and swayed in Jon's hands tonight, until it brought to mind the outro to "I Want You (She's So Heavy)." "Here We Go"? More like away we went.
We got one more original, then dove into the covers, starting with "Life on Mars" on the vibes. The people sitting behind us were clearly delighted, based on the stream of giggles and gasps I overheard. They weren't alone, if the applause and laughter throughout the room were any indication.
In fact, I'd argue that the audience's very enthusiasm sent Jon into crowd-pleaser mode for this segment of the show. The newbie-dominated group gushed their appreciation of Jon's transitions and selections, and Jon, in turn, seemed to capitalize on this freshness with an extensive survey of his talents and versatility. Thus, we got Tom Waits doing Led Zeppelin (says the woman who knows nothing about either), a classic delivered with a healthy dose of distortion, and finally, the long-awaited return of the Beatles to Jon's setlists.
"Tomorrow Never Knows" is nothing less than a blowout in any performance, but tonight's rendition resulted in a broken guitar string, though it didn't stop Jon from playing; briefly quoted "Revolution" and "Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey"; and drew on more video footage, including a segment that Jon manipulated to make it appear as if Nels were record scratching. Whew! Oh, and those gigglers/gaspers behind me? They got a kick out of this one too--as did I.
For his encore, Jon took it down a notch with a solo acoustic "Love of My Life So Far." But the show wasn't over--on to the second set!
Over in the Little Room, Sara and Sean Watkins were the first to arrive onstage, and the presence of Jon's guitars gave us hope that he would show up eventually too. The siblings traded off songs, including some brand-new works and audience requests. Benmont Tench joined in next, then finally Jon took his place alongside them. Then it got really interesting.
Nature or nurture? It's a question that often crosses my mind at Largo. Do I come back again and again because the club draws so many of the artists that helped form my musical vocabulary? Or do those names dominate my listening habits because I've seen them at the club? The case can be made either way, but when certain faces pop up seemingly out of the blue, I lean toward the former and start wondering if some form of destiny is at work.
Granted, large tracts of my musical upbringing have never surfaced at Largo, but when Neil Finn drops in or Glenn Kotche is coerced onstage or Jon plays a Spoon song (then, years later, goes into the studio with them), I want to think it's not mere coincidence. At tonight's show, Charlie Sexton got me looking up star signs and reading the tea leaves all over again.
As I understand it, Charlie Sexton has been in Bob Dylan's touring band for a while now, but I'll always see him through the eyes of my 13-year-old self, thanks to the magic--or the curse--of music television and his hit single "Beat's So Lonely." I'm not sure how the clip stands up to contemporary scrutiny, but when it debuted, Charlie's striking profile couldn't be ignored, even in an era of aggressively telegenic musicians. Truth be told, the song wasn't effete enough for my teenage tastes, but the video stayed on my mind. See for yourself:
Flash-forward 25 years (OMFG, kill me now), and there he was, on the tiny stage of the Little Room, summoned by none other than Jon Brion. How did Charlie look? Pretty damn good, especially as he, Jon, and Sean threw goofy rock 'n' roll shapes around the mic.
But how did he do? Not too shabby there either. With Sara, Charlie spearheaded "Bye Bye Love," but Jon and Sean kicked in their harmonies too, while Benmont imbued it with a swinging beat. With that, their performance quickly shot up my list of favorite Largo moments.
The quintet went back to round-robin mode, sharing vocals and solos, as well as making requests of one another. By now, my eyes were glued to Jon and Charlie. For example, they contributed tasteful guitar notes to Benmont's downtempo take on ELO, and they came together to mine the rootsier aspects for "I'll Cry Instead"; coincidentally, it featured Jon's only true lead vocal of the second set. I hope it won't be the last I'll see of Charlie at Jon's shows.
To close out this long second set, Jon released the group and brought up Margaret Cho for a song they wrote together. I don't recall catching the title, but Margaret gave us some background on the song and explained that it's about an ex-boyfriend who stalked her after they broke up and didn't recognize himself in the lyrics. All you really need to know, though, is that Margaret has penned the greatest couplet in existence, rhyming "hottest girl you know" with "Margaret fucking Cho." Need I say more?
Set 1
--piano
--Ruin My Day
--Same Thing
--new song ["She's at it again/Once my rival, now my friend..."]
--Piece of You [new song]
--Here We Go
--Please Stay Away From Me
--Whole Lotta Love (?)
--As Time Goes By
--Tomorrow Never Knows
encore
--Love of My Life So Far
Set 2
Sara and Sean Watkins
--instrumental
--Any Old Time
--Damaged
--new song [Sara]
--Impossible
--Bella and Ivan
--new song [Sean]
--Hello Goodbye
Sara and Sean Watkins and Benmont Tench
--Hold What You Got
--I Go to Sleep
Sara and Sean Watkins, Benmont Tench, and Jon Brion
--Early in the Morning
--Mexican Home
Sara and Sean Watkins, Benmont Tench, Jon Brion, and Charlie Sexton
--Bye Bye Love
--Brand New Heartache
--Midnight Shift
--Can't Get It Out of My Head
--Don't Come Home A-Drinkin' (With Lovin' on Your Mind)
--?
--Pink Triangles
--I'll Cry Instead
Jon Brion and Margaret Cho
--new song?
See also:
» it's the end of the things you know
» i can teach you, but i have to charge
» i'll be out on the town
» owner of this corner and not much more
Friday, December 25, 2009
it's the end of the things you know
There were, in fact, vague plans to see some shows and, when those dates fell through, post some fill-in blogs in the past month, but pesky real-life details, especially those unique to this time of the year, got in the way: annoying holiday parties, peripatetic cash flow, grinchiness. As much as I would've loved to catch a couple more Largo gigs this month, I set my sights on Jon Brion's last concert of the year, which has become a tradition I just can't pass up.
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 18, 2009: I'd been looking forward to this gig for about a year, as it marked--deep breath--the 10th anniversary of my first Jon Brion show, give or take a day. Oh to be 19 again! (Editor: Uh, more like 19 plus 9.)
But that self-declared milestone took a backseat to another announcement: This gig would mark the last night of Jon's weekly residency. Instead, we should expect to see him on a monthly schedule for the foreseeable future. You'll have to excuse me if I forgo the rending of hair and beating of breast. By my calculations, this is the third era to come to an end, at least in the time I've been patronizing the club. Of course, there was the reports of tendinitis three-plus years back, followed by the news of Largo's last days on Fairfax. Compared to those alarming events, the promise of future shows by Jon, albeit on a lighter rotation, is no reason to panic. And on an entirely selfish note, it suits my arrangements perfectly.
Though I don't think these changes were explicitly confirmed at the show, I couldn't help but interpret certain events as a subtle acknowledgement of the changes afoot. On a hopeful note, Flanny's hilarious story about an ex-Beatles' visit to the old club helped disperse whatever dark cloud might've hung over the proceedings, and in his opening remarks, Jon indicated a long-awaited follow-up to Meaningless could finally get his attention. Of more immediate concern, Jon's choice of mostly original songs felt like an oblique affirmation of the coming shift--if any message at all was intended. I'm purely speculating at this point.
Want more speculation? Try the opening number, a jazzy piano instrumental that once again confounded me. I want to suggest it ran along the lines of "My Funny Valentine," but short of Harmonix introducing Duke Ellington Swing Band, I'm the last person you should ask about standards from the American songbook.
"Same Thing" brought us back to more familiar territory, beginning with that rhythmic foundation, to which Jon added vocals in a lower range. Tonight's twist, though, was an '80s-era feel--and if you've read this blog before, you know how much I love my '80s.
The first hint of the Reagan administration arrived via a tiny beat that recalled all those Fairlight-enhanced tunes of the decade--in other words, every song recorded between 1980 and, oh, 1988. Think of Art of Noise's "Close (To the Edit)," Scritti Politti's "Perfect Way," or anything by Thomas Dolby, among others. Can you hear that precise, mechanical cleaving sound? I know it well, and I swear it rang out again tonight. Though the essence of "Same Thing" remained intact, Jon revisited the decade in the outro, playing it out with a grand, synth-laden coda.
Jon completed his lap around the stage with a turn on electric guitar for a new song, as well as a build of "Get Over Yourself." Though a mainstay of Jon's set, "Why Do You Do This to Yourself" sounded different, with way more tremolo than usual and richer, twangier tone than the typically spare setup--a lovely touch.
The video mixers swung into action soon thereafter, as Jon cued up footage of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' Flea and Chad Smith and jammed along with the duo. They ran through at least a couple of covers before Jon brought Sonny Rollins and Michael Tilson Thomas--the latter leading an orchestral rendition of Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring"--into the fold.
There was much mixing and matching of Sonny's sax with the symphony's brass section, but my spazz-out moment, as Heidi can attest, occurred when I realized Jon was working up the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' "Maps." In retrospect, I realize that Jon has performed this song often, but thanks to playing the shit out of it in Rock Band, I know it well these days--and now Overdrive will never be the same. Jon wrapped up the extravaganza with the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, but frankly, my memories had already been made.
Jon wandered over to the vibes for his next selection, a take on "Happy with You" that eschewed the usual pyrotechnics--apart from a delightful vibes solo--for equal parts whimsy and soulfulness. Partway through the song, Sebastian Steinberg joined in to anchor the bottom end for this and the following tune "Please Stay Away from Me."
Jon stepped away from the spotlight as Sara and Sean Watkins rounded out the quartet. The siblings spearheaded a handful of covers, including a folksy version of Jon's "Trouble" featuring a round of dueling acoustic guitars between Jon and Sean. They left Jon on his own for the final song, which I want to call "Pieces of You" based on the chorus. I haven't indicated as much in my earlier posts, but you'll know it by its vast sweep and reverberating guitar. It's a keeper.
Before we could traipse over to the Little Room, Jon returned for "Here We Go." I've claimed ad nauseum that this exquisite waltz is Jon's most accomplished song. Concise, self-contained, and so darned pretty, it's the amuse-bouche, if you will, among Jon's works. Tonight, though, he broke out the brunoise, initiated the immersion circulator, then sent out the resulting sous-vide supper: a bursting ballotine, a velvety veloute, an enchanting escabeche (see below), a piquant pistou...
...or, rather, Jon drew from the full suite of instruments onstage to transform this peerless piece into something more dramatic and even a little harrowing. Along the way, he brought in Nels Cline and Eric Clapton via video, but it ultimately came down to Jon's singular vision. I don't think I've ever heard "Here We Go" with electric guitar, but I'd welcome the opportunity to listen again.
In the Little Room, Jon did something I've seen often in my last few visits: He turned over the proceedings entirely. Tonight, Sara and Sean Watkins dictated the events, then recruited Sebastian Steinberg a few songs in. In fact, the bassist sang one song, "She Still Thinks I Care," at his colleagues' urging.
As for Sara and Sean, they generally favored covers, but they threw in their own works, including some brand-new, yet-to-be-recorded titles. Sara's husband dropped in for a duet, and even Jon stepped up near the end. Would I have liked to hear more from Jon in this second set? Of course I would, but his warm harmonies on the Morrissey cover (requested by myself and, unbeknownst to me, a guy in the back) helped cap the night, the year, and the decade.
Set 1
--piano
--Same Thing
--new song?
--Get Over Yourself
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Entrance of the Gladiators/Rhapsody in Blue/Maps/Within You, Without You/Kashmir
with Sebastian Steinberg
--Happy with You
--Please Stay Away from Me
with Sebastian Steinberg, as well as Sara and Sean Watkins
--?
--The Late John Garfield Blues
--Trouble
--Any Old Time
--Pieces of You
--Here We Go
Set 2
Sara and Sean Watkins
--Polly Put the Kettle On
--Hold What You Got
--new song [Sara]
--new song [Sean]
with Sebastian Steinberg
--Buckley's Blues
--?
--Reality Calls
--Impossible
--Never Call
--Early in the Morning
--She Still Thinks I Care
--Christmas song?
--instrumental
with Todd Cooper and Jon Brion
--Tomorrow Is Forever
with Jon Brion
--Feeling Good Again
--Last Word in Lonesome Is Me
--Steal Your Heart Away
--The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get
See also:
» public service announcement
» all is full of love
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 18, 2009: I'd been looking forward to this gig for about a year, as it marked--deep breath--the 10th anniversary of my first Jon Brion show, give or take a day. Oh to be 19 again! (Editor: Uh, more like 19 plus 9.)
But that self-declared milestone took a backseat to another announcement: This gig would mark the last night of Jon's weekly residency. Instead, we should expect to see him on a monthly schedule for the foreseeable future. You'll have to excuse me if I forgo the rending of hair and beating of breast. By my calculations, this is the third era to come to an end, at least in the time I've been patronizing the club. Of course, there was the reports of tendinitis three-plus years back, followed by the news of Largo's last days on Fairfax. Compared to those alarming events, the promise of future shows by Jon, albeit on a lighter rotation, is no reason to panic. And on an entirely selfish note, it suits my arrangements perfectly.
Though I don't think these changes were explicitly confirmed at the show, I couldn't help but interpret certain events as a subtle acknowledgement of the changes afoot. On a hopeful note, Flanny's hilarious story about an ex-Beatles' visit to the old club helped disperse whatever dark cloud might've hung over the proceedings, and in his opening remarks, Jon indicated a long-awaited follow-up to Meaningless could finally get his attention. Of more immediate concern, Jon's choice of mostly original songs felt like an oblique affirmation of the coming shift--if any message at all was intended. I'm purely speculating at this point.
Want more speculation? Try the opening number, a jazzy piano instrumental that once again confounded me. I want to suggest it ran along the lines of "My Funny Valentine," but short of Harmonix introducing Duke Ellington Swing Band, I'm the last person you should ask about standards from the American songbook.
"Same Thing" brought us back to more familiar territory, beginning with that rhythmic foundation, to which Jon added vocals in a lower range. Tonight's twist, though, was an '80s-era feel--and if you've read this blog before, you know how much I love my '80s.
The first hint of the Reagan administration arrived via a tiny beat that recalled all those Fairlight-enhanced tunes of the decade--in other words, every song recorded between 1980 and, oh, 1988. Think of Art of Noise's "Close (To the Edit)," Scritti Politti's "Perfect Way," or anything by Thomas Dolby, among others. Can you hear that precise, mechanical cleaving sound? I know it well, and I swear it rang out again tonight. Though the essence of "Same Thing" remained intact, Jon revisited the decade in the outro, playing it out with a grand, synth-laden coda.
Jon completed his lap around the stage with a turn on electric guitar for a new song, as well as a build of "Get Over Yourself." Though a mainstay of Jon's set, "Why Do You Do This to Yourself" sounded different, with way more tremolo than usual and richer, twangier tone than the typically spare setup--a lovely touch.
The video mixers swung into action soon thereafter, as Jon cued up footage of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' Flea and Chad Smith and jammed along with the duo. They ran through at least a couple of covers before Jon brought Sonny Rollins and Michael Tilson Thomas--the latter leading an orchestral rendition of Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring"--into the fold.
There was much mixing and matching of Sonny's sax with the symphony's brass section, but my spazz-out moment, as Heidi can attest, occurred when I realized Jon was working up the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' "Maps." In retrospect, I realize that Jon has performed this song often, but thanks to playing the shit out of it in Rock Band, I know it well these days--and now Overdrive will never be the same. Jon wrapped up the extravaganza with the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, but frankly, my memories had already been made.
Jon wandered over to the vibes for his next selection, a take on "Happy with You" that eschewed the usual pyrotechnics--apart from a delightful vibes solo--for equal parts whimsy and soulfulness. Partway through the song, Sebastian Steinberg joined in to anchor the bottom end for this and the following tune "Please Stay Away from Me."
Jon stepped away from the spotlight as Sara and Sean Watkins rounded out the quartet. The siblings spearheaded a handful of covers, including a folksy version of Jon's "Trouble" featuring a round of dueling acoustic guitars between Jon and Sean. They left Jon on his own for the final song, which I want to call "Pieces of You" based on the chorus. I haven't indicated as much in my earlier posts, but you'll know it by its vast sweep and reverberating guitar. It's a keeper.
Before we could traipse over to the Little Room, Jon returned for "Here We Go." I've claimed ad nauseum that this exquisite waltz is Jon's most accomplished song. Concise, self-contained, and so darned pretty, it's the amuse-bouche, if you will, among Jon's works. Tonight, though, he broke out the brunoise, initiated the immersion circulator, then sent out the resulting sous-vide supper: a bursting ballotine, a velvety veloute, an enchanting escabeche (see below), a piquant pistou...
...or, rather, Jon drew from the full suite of instruments onstage to transform this peerless piece into something more dramatic and even a little harrowing. Along the way, he brought in Nels Cline and Eric Clapton via video, but it ultimately came down to Jon's singular vision. I don't think I've ever heard "Here We Go" with electric guitar, but I'd welcome the opportunity to listen again.
In the Little Room, Jon did something I've seen often in my last few visits: He turned over the proceedings entirely. Tonight, Sara and Sean Watkins dictated the events, then recruited Sebastian Steinberg a few songs in. In fact, the bassist sang one song, "She Still Thinks I Care," at his colleagues' urging.
As for Sara and Sean, they generally favored covers, but they threw in their own works, including some brand-new, yet-to-be-recorded titles. Sara's husband dropped in for a duet, and even Jon stepped up near the end. Would I have liked to hear more from Jon in this second set? Of course I would, but his warm harmonies on the Morrissey cover (requested by myself and, unbeknownst to me, a guy in the back) helped cap the night, the year, and the decade.
Set 1
--piano
--Same Thing
--new song?
--Get Over Yourself
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Entrance of the Gladiators/Rhapsody in Blue/Maps/Within You, Without You/Kashmir
with Sebastian Steinberg
--Happy with You
--Please Stay Away from Me
with Sebastian Steinberg, as well as Sara and Sean Watkins
--?
--The Late John Garfield Blues
--Trouble
--Any Old Time
--Pieces of You
--Here We Go
Set 2
Sara and Sean Watkins
--Polly Put the Kettle On
--Hold What You Got
--new song [Sara]
--new song [Sean]
with Sebastian Steinberg
--Buckley's Blues
--?
--Reality Calls
--Impossible
--Never Call
--Early in the Morning
--She Still Thinks I Care
--Christmas song?
--instrumental
with Todd Cooper and Jon Brion
--Tomorrow Is Forever
with Jon Brion
--Feeling Good Again
--Last Word in Lonesome Is Me
--Steal Your Heart Away
--The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get
See also:
» public service announcement
» all is full of love
Monday, March 09, 2009
cortez, cortez
I admit I went a little overboard with the Largo excursions in December and January--the center could not hold. Reality returned (somewhat) in February, and I'll likely have to stick to these self-imposed limits for the foreseeable future. On the bright side, what I lose in quantity, I gain in quality, thanks to the continuing string of Rawlings Machine shows.
Dave Rawlings Machine, Largo at the Coronet, March 5, 2009: My manias are not a mystery--those tag clouds on the right of the page have me pegged. But in case you haven't noticed, it's happening again: Intrigue is turning into infatuation. I'm talking, of course, about the Rawlings Machine. They sure make it easy to decide which weekends I should fly down (and double my disgruntlement when I can't be there).
Despite their mild protests about the lack of preparation and problems with pacing, Dave and Gillian took to the stage with an evident ease and an uptick in confidence compared to their early shows at Largo. They fell short of a swagger, and I doubt that Dave and Gillian will ever be able to take their act to Vegas--or Branson, Missouri, for that matter--but actually, that's not a bad thing.
They handled the first five songs of the show by themselves. I took it as a good sign the look of surprise that flitted across Gillian's face on their second track; she later explained that she didn't expect it so early in the set, and it confirms for me that they haven't fallen into rote recitation.
To these ears, the highlight of this section was "Knuckleball Catcher." Though I've heard this song at each of their performances, there was something about the fierce arrangement and their peerless harmonizing that leapt out at me this time. The sly rhymes of that last verse ("some hard liquor can make a guitar picker out of you"), especially, has been on my brain for days; nor does it hurt that the intro reminds me a little of their version of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
From there, the guest appearances commenced. The first musician plucked from the sidelines--not quite literally, though Dave did march over to the curtains, still bearing his guitar, and pointed at the performer in question--was a true legend: John Paul Jones. I've seen him only once before, but you could hazard a guess that his ties to Largo have further deepened in the last year. Not only has he produced Sara Watkins' solo album, he's previously played with Gillian and Dave as well. This familiarity showed; looking pretty relaxed himself, John Paul Jones contributed mandolin and harmonies to "I Hear Them All," to David and Gillian's delight, and stuck around for more.
I didn't take notes this time, so the details start to blur, but I recall that Sara and Sean Watkins, as well as Sebastian Steinberg and Benmont Tench, piled in for a number of songs, mostly traditional numbers that Gillian later explained qualified as the dance music of its day. And though they had their own gig scheduled for the Little Room that night, Sara and Sean seemed reluctant to leave. In fact, we spied the duo watching from the shadows later in the set, though their own show should've been under way by then.
It's obvious to me that Largo has opened up Dave and Gillian as performers, but the duo has, in turn, opened up Largo to a new set of artists--especially on the younger, hipper end of the spectrum. Tonight, that meant we saw "Z" Berg from the Like, Morgan Nagler with her signature tune, and--drum roll, please--Jenny Lewis, returning for another short spin. This time, she sang "Silver Lining" from the last Rilo Kiley album, but from our seats, we could see that she stuck around for the rest of the set, dancing and just plain enjoying the festivities.
Following Jenny's turn, my wish came true about halfway through "Ruby," when Jon Brion sauntered over and fell right in to the swing of things. Dave and Gillian have been dropping in on Jon's set for a good few months now, so I was happy to see him return the favor on the big stage.
Dave and Gillian remained, by default, the leaders, but only nominally, urging Benmont, Jon, and John Paul Jones to work their magic as well. They peaked with a phenomenal segue from Bright Eyes to "Cortez the Killer"; it hits me between the eyes every time.
Even "White Rabbit" couldn't top that; I blame the lack of reverb, despite Gillian and Dave's request for more. Still, I loved watching Benmont and Jon add their low-tech effects to the tune (Benmont, plucking at the piano strings; Jon going for a doppler-type effect with the guitar and mic). And the fact that Gillian forgot some of the lyrics was more charming than distracting as well. Closing out the set, Gillian ran to fetch a lyric sheet before they brought out Z Berg again for an a cappella selection, gathered around the omnidirectional mic.
But the night wasn't over! Gillian herself had announced from the stage their plans to infiltrate Sean and Sara's show in the Little Room. We took her up on that hot tip--and were treated to another hour-plus of music with most of the same personnel from the big room, minus the East Siders.
Sara somewhat apologized for the disorganized air; she explained that they were so used to rehearsing with each other that they didn't really know how to switch gears in front of people. I hope she realizes that's exactly what we love about these gigs; it's the closest we get to being flies on the wall, taking in our favorite artists.
I barely know what they played, partly because I didn't take any notes and partly because their traditional selections frequently escape me. However, I caught Sara and Sean's more contemporary covers ("No Surprises," "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get," "Pink Triangle"), as well as Benmont's comedy screeches on "Why Don't We Do It in the Road," and even I recognized Dylan's "Forever Young."
I feel like the boy who cried wolf; after naming "Cortez the Killer" and "Knuckleball Catcher" as two high points of the evening, I'm going to cite one more event. Toward the end of the show, the musicians decided to treat us (and, most likely, themselves) with "the greatest song ever," only no one knew the crucial "recitation." However, someone's iPhone was co-opted (amid several jokes about Flanny busting them for it), and Sean Watkins set about tracking down this mysterious track. Modern technology, being what it is, was less than cooperative at first, so to help pass the time, Dave and Gillian performed a little do-si-do on the tiny stage, already packed with five other people. Finally, Sean wrangled the lines and offered himself as the human teleprompter for Joe Tex's "Hold What You Got," featuring a couple of hearty soliloquys by David and Gillian. Extra points also go to David for his thespian flair.
See also:
» you got a lotta nerve
» hear them all
Dave Rawlings Machine, Largo at the Coronet, March 5, 2009: My manias are not a mystery--those tag clouds on the right of the page have me pegged. But in case you haven't noticed, it's happening again: Intrigue is turning into infatuation. I'm talking, of course, about the Rawlings Machine. They sure make it easy to decide which weekends I should fly down (and double my disgruntlement when I can't be there).
Despite their mild protests about the lack of preparation and problems with pacing, Dave and Gillian took to the stage with an evident ease and an uptick in confidence compared to their early shows at Largo. They fell short of a swagger, and I doubt that Dave and Gillian will ever be able to take their act to Vegas--or Branson, Missouri, for that matter--but actually, that's not a bad thing.
They handled the first five songs of the show by themselves. I took it as a good sign the look of surprise that flitted across Gillian's face on their second track; she later explained that she didn't expect it so early in the set, and it confirms for me that they haven't fallen into rote recitation.
To these ears, the highlight of this section was "Knuckleball Catcher." Though I've heard this song at each of their performances, there was something about the fierce arrangement and their peerless harmonizing that leapt out at me this time. The sly rhymes of that last verse ("some hard liquor can make a guitar picker out of you"), especially, has been on my brain for days; nor does it hurt that the intro reminds me a little of their version of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
From there, the guest appearances commenced. The first musician plucked from the sidelines--not quite literally, though Dave did march over to the curtains, still bearing his guitar, and pointed at the performer in question--was a true legend: John Paul Jones. I've seen him only once before, but you could hazard a guess that his ties to Largo have further deepened in the last year. Not only has he produced Sara Watkins' solo album, he's previously played with Gillian and Dave as well. This familiarity showed; looking pretty relaxed himself, John Paul Jones contributed mandolin and harmonies to "I Hear Them All," to David and Gillian's delight, and stuck around for more.
I didn't take notes this time, so the details start to blur, but I recall that Sara and Sean Watkins, as well as Sebastian Steinberg and Benmont Tench, piled in for a number of songs, mostly traditional numbers that Gillian later explained qualified as the dance music of its day. And though they had their own gig scheduled for the Little Room that night, Sara and Sean seemed reluctant to leave. In fact, we spied the duo watching from the shadows later in the set, though their own show should've been under way by then.
It's obvious to me that Largo has opened up Dave and Gillian as performers, but the duo has, in turn, opened up Largo to a new set of artists--especially on the younger, hipper end of the spectrum. Tonight, that meant we saw "Z" Berg from the Like, Morgan Nagler with her signature tune, and--drum roll, please--Jenny Lewis, returning for another short spin. This time, she sang "Silver Lining" from the last Rilo Kiley album, but from our seats, we could see that she stuck around for the rest of the set, dancing and just plain enjoying the festivities.
Following Jenny's turn, my wish came true about halfway through "Ruby," when Jon Brion sauntered over and fell right in to the swing of things. Dave and Gillian have been dropping in on Jon's set for a good few months now, so I was happy to see him return the favor on the big stage.
Dave and Gillian remained, by default, the leaders, but only nominally, urging Benmont, Jon, and John Paul Jones to work their magic as well. They peaked with a phenomenal segue from Bright Eyes to "Cortez the Killer"; it hits me between the eyes every time.
Even "White Rabbit" couldn't top that; I blame the lack of reverb, despite Gillian and Dave's request for more. Still, I loved watching Benmont and Jon add their low-tech effects to the tune (Benmont, plucking at the piano strings; Jon going for a doppler-type effect with the guitar and mic). And the fact that Gillian forgot some of the lyrics was more charming than distracting as well. Closing out the set, Gillian ran to fetch a lyric sheet before they brought out Z Berg again for an a cappella selection, gathered around the omnidirectional mic.
But the night wasn't over! Gillian herself had announced from the stage their plans to infiltrate Sean and Sara's show in the Little Room. We took her up on that hot tip--and were treated to another hour-plus of music with most of the same personnel from the big room, minus the East Siders.
Sara somewhat apologized for the disorganized air; she explained that they were so used to rehearsing with each other that they didn't really know how to switch gears in front of people. I hope she realizes that's exactly what we love about these gigs; it's the closest we get to being flies on the wall, taking in our favorite artists.
I barely know what they played, partly because I didn't take any notes and partly because their traditional selections frequently escape me. However, I caught Sara and Sean's more contemporary covers ("No Surprises," "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get," "Pink Triangle"), as well as Benmont's comedy screeches on "Why Don't We Do It in the Road," and even I recognized Dylan's "Forever Young."
I feel like the boy who cried wolf; after naming "Cortez the Killer" and "Knuckleball Catcher" as two high points of the evening, I'm going to cite one more event. Toward the end of the show, the musicians decided to treat us (and, most likely, themselves) with "the greatest song ever," only no one knew the crucial "recitation." However, someone's iPhone was co-opted (amid several jokes about Flanny busting them for it), and Sean Watkins set about tracking down this mysterious track. Modern technology, being what it is, was less than cooperative at first, so to help pass the time, Dave and Gillian performed a little do-si-do on the tiny stage, already packed with five other people. Finally, Sean wrangled the lines and offered himself as the human teleprompter for Joe Tex's "Hold What You Got," featuring a couple of hearty soliloquys by David and Gillian. Extra points also go to David for his thespian flair.
See also:
» you got a lotta nerve
» hear them all
Sunday, May 11, 2008
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
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
Sunday, March 23, 2008
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
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
Monday, September 17, 2007
his name it did resound
I sometimes worry about getting jaded about Largo; this is not a place I want to take for granted. But if the breathless anticipation and incessant giggling bursting forth from Evonne and myself when we spotted David Rawlings wandering around before Saturday's Jon Brion show are any indication, we'll continue to line up as needed for a while to come.
Jon Brion, Largo, September 8, 2007: The Foghat jacket was history, but remnants of Friday night lingered. Namely, after Jon's usual instrumental opening, he immediately asked for requests. A voice I knew (thanks, T!) was the first out of the gate with a suggestion I've wanted to hear forever: Teenage Fanclub. Even better, Jon obliged with a mournful version of "Alcoholiday" drenched in harmonica and celeste. Though he couldn't remember most of the lyrics, he hit the important ones ("Baby, I've been fucked already") and, in the process, gave me that fuzzy feeling you get when you find out an artist you really like really likes another artist you really like.
After "I Believe She's Lying," the request for "She May Call You Up Tonight" took Jon to the drums for a song build, which at the very least promised us the rawk would be brought, no "Croatia" request necessary. But only the electric guitar remained for the next couple of tunes, including a Les Paul-style treatment of "Sexy Sadie." Jon returned to the piano and familiar territory for the maudlin "Trial and Error," trailed by an exuberant "I'm on a Roll with You."
At the back, I couldn't hear the requests so well, but we got a hint of the next selection from Jon's repetition of a certain beat on the piano keys. I didn't want to believe my ears at first, even after Jon shifted to the drums to bang out that familiar rhythm, but it could be only one song. Jon dove head first into "Once in a Lifetime," sprinkling some of David Byrne's gesticulations from the music video into his performance, as playing allowed. As if that wasn't enough, he picked up an acoustic guitar for the outro and went Dylan on us ("This is not your beautiful home!"). It was only natural, then, that he'd segue into his own sometime Dylan tribute, "Knock Yourself Out."
Jon provided the next request, "Everytime We Say Goodbye," working up a lengthy, esoteric instrumental build before the vocals kicked in. But this classical turn evaporated in a medley of children's favorites, concluding with a heavy, distorted take on Kermit the Frog's most famous tune.
The Billy Joel requests had started early in the night, but now they drew to their climax, with one guy in the back yelling out for "any Billy Joel you can play." I guess this was the phrasing that finally got under Jon's skin because he declared it was "time to shut you down" and set out to get the last laugh. To Jon's credit, I can safely say that he spared us some of his Billy Joel repertoire (I've heard him do "Piano Man" before), so we were shown a modicum of mercy that night. In addition, Jon bestowed one more item upon the requester: a flip of the bird.
The medley unleashed a run through some cheesy but irresistible singalongs, including "Eye of the Fucking Tiger," as dictated by Jon; my own request for "Heart of Glass," for which we shamefully forgot about 90 percent of the lyrics; and "Hava Nagilah." For the last, Jon even donned the Viking helmet for the first time ever and stroked the pelt atop the piano a little, much to the audience's delight.
"Ain't Misbehavin'" took on an old-timey feel, thanks to Scott in the soundbooth and the layer of static he added over Jon's playing. "Pulling Mussels from the Shell" also tipped its hat to past masters, but that was mostly Jon's doing, with some help from audience call-outs.
The requests weren't quite hitting the spot for Jon, so it was Scott back to the rescue, piping in Larry Craig's testimony once again, then dropping some Snoop Dogg into the mix, to which Jon played along for a stretch. For the final number of the first set, Jon stood at the mic for a while, inviting our ideas, but ultimately holding out the threat of a "spacey cosmic downer." The jam won out, as Jon unleashed "You Made the Girl." I'm not a fan of this song, but it was hard not to feel his emotion as he threw his weight against the amp and the piano while forcing out every available note.
After a well-deserved break, Jon wasted no time in drafting a couple of friends: Benmont Tench and David Rawlings, one of my favorite recent additions to the Largo stable. Dylan provided the inaugural touchstone for, first, David on vocals by himself, then David and Jon together, sharing a microphone.
The trio happily made room for Sara and Sean Watkins, and at this point, Jon just about slid into the background. Sara assumed most of the vocal duties, though David took the reigns for "Queen Jane Approximately." David also eased over to the drums for "Any Old Time," but Evonne reports that when the spotlight landed on him, he shook his head and urged it away.
We had heard talk of Benmont's hidden talents, but we finally saw it for ourselves when, at an impasse, the group hit on a plan. We watched as Benmont stood up from the piano and slid on a bass guitar, while Jon landed on drums, and David stepped up on lead guitar. Sara and Benmont sang it, and we were all with them for the Jackson 5.
Benmont remained on bass for several numbers, including David's two Chuck Berry tunes. I loved David's semi-ironic vote of confidence before "30 Days," when he said somewhat under his breath, "This is going to be awesome," but you'd have to be a cold-hearted bastard to not join the rest of the room in yelling the chorus, even if (as in my case) you'd never heard the song before. Also, you could practically see the wheels turning in David's head as he tried to remember all the words to "No Money Down" but no matter--it was a hoot. And "John Wesley Harding" featured what might be one of my favorite Jon Brion virtuoso displays ever: a harmonica and tambourine solo, accomplished while clutching a pint of Guinness. Bravo! However, he took a more customary stance for the final number, "My Baby Left Me," before bidding us adieu.
Set 1
--piano
--Alcoholiday
--I Believe She's Lying
--She May Call You Up Tonight
--Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime
--Sexy Sadie [Les Paul style]
--Trial and Error
--I'm on a Roll with You
--Once in a Lifetime [+ Dylan mashup]
--Knock Yourself Out
--Everytime We Say Goodbye
--Sesame Street theme
--Mr. Rogers Neighborhood theme
--It's Not Easy Being Green
--It's Still Rock & Roll to Me/Only the Good Die Young/Just the Way You Are/She's Got a Way
--Eye of the Tiger
--Heart of Glass
--Hava Nagila
--Ain't Misbehavin'
--Pulling Mussels from the Shell [via Fats Waller]
--funky instrumental
--You Made the Girl
Set 2
--Copper Kettle [vocals = David] *
--I'll Keep It with Mine [vocals = Jon + David] *
--Freight Train [vocals = Sara] **
--Queen Jane Approximately [vocals = David] **
--Any Old Time [vocals = Sara] **
--Hop High My Lulu Girl [vocals = Sara] **
--I Want You Back [vocals = Sarah + Benmont] **
--30 Days [vocals = David] **
--No Money Down [vocals = David] **
--John Wesley Harding [vocals = David] **
--Hey Mona/Not Fade Away [vocals = Benmont] **
--My Baby Left Me **
* = with David Rawlings and Benmont Tench
** = with David Rawlings, Benmont Tench, and Sara and Sean Watkins
See also:
» no one alerted you
» here's a working model
Jon Brion, Largo, September 8, 2007: The Foghat jacket was history, but remnants of Friday night lingered. Namely, after Jon's usual instrumental opening, he immediately asked for requests. A voice I knew (thanks, T!) was the first out of the gate with a suggestion I've wanted to hear forever: Teenage Fanclub. Even better, Jon obliged with a mournful version of "Alcoholiday" drenched in harmonica and celeste. Though he couldn't remember most of the lyrics, he hit the important ones ("Baby, I've been fucked already") and, in the process, gave me that fuzzy feeling you get when you find out an artist you really like really likes another artist you really like.
After "I Believe She's Lying," the request for "She May Call You Up Tonight" took Jon to the drums for a song build, which at the very least promised us the rawk would be brought, no "Croatia" request necessary. But only the electric guitar remained for the next couple of tunes, including a Les Paul-style treatment of "Sexy Sadie." Jon returned to the piano and familiar territory for the maudlin "Trial and Error," trailed by an exuberant "I'm on a Roll with You."
At the back, I couldn't hear the requests so well, but we got a hint of the next selection from Jon's repetition of a certain beat on the piano keys. I didn't want to believe my ears at first, even after Jon shifted to the drums to bang out that familiar rhythm, but it could be only one song. Jon dove head first into "Once in a Lifetime," sprinkling some of David Byrne's gesticulations from the music video into his performance, as playing allowed. As if that wasn't enough, he picked up an acoustic guitar for the outro and went Dylan on us ("This is not your beautiful home!"). It was only natural, then, that he'd segue into his own sometime Dylan tribute, "Knock Yourself Out."
Jon provided the next request, "Everytime We Say Goodbye," working up a lengthy, esoteric instrumental build before the vocals kicked in. But this classical turn evaporated in a medley of children's favorites, concluding with a heavy, distorted take on Kermit the Frog's most famous tune.
The Billy Joel requests had started early in the night, but now they drew to their climax, with one guy in the back yelling out for "any Billy Joel you can play." I guess this was the phrasing that finally got under Jon's skin because he declared it was "time to shut you down" and set out to get the last laugh. To Jon's credit, I can safely say that he spared us some of his Billy Joel repertoire (I've heard him do "Piano Man" before), so we were shown a modicum of mercy that night. In addition, Jon bestowed one more item upon the requester: a flip of the bird.
The medley unleashed a run through some cheesy but irresistible singalongs, including "Eye of the Fucking Tiger," as dictated by Jon; my own request for "Heart of Glass," for which we shamefully forgot about 90 percent of the lyrics; and "Hava Nagilah." For the last, Jon even donned the Viking helmet for the first time ever and stroked the pelt atop the piano a little, much to the audience's delight.
"Ain't Misbehavin'" took on an old-timey feel, thanks to Scott in the soundbooth and the layer of static he added over Jon's playing. "Pulling Mussels from the Shell" also tipped its hat to past masters, but that was mostly Jon's doing, with some help from audience call-outs.
The requests weren't quite hitting the spot for Jon, so it was Scott back to the rescue, piping in Larry Craig's testimony once again, then dropping some Snoop Dogg into the mix, to which Jon played along for a stretch. For the final number of the first set, Jon stood at the mic for a while, inviting our ideas, but ultimately holding out the threat of a "spacey cosmic downer." The jam won out, as Jon unleashed "You Made the Girl." I'm not a fan of this song, but it was hard not to feel his emotion as he threw his weight against the amp and the piano while forcing out every available note.
After a well-deserved break, Jon wasted no time in drafting a couple of friends: Benmont Tench and David Rawlings, one of my favorite recent additions to the Largo stable. Dylan provided the inaugural touchstone for, first, David on vocals by himself, then David and Jon together, sharing a microphone.
The trio happily made room for Sara and Sean Watkins, and at this point, Jon just about slid into the background. Sara assumed most of the vocal duties, though David took the reigns for "Queen Jane Approximately." David also eased over to the drums for "Any Old Time," but Evonne reports that when the spotlight landed on him, he shook his head and urged it away.
We had heard talk of Benmont's hidden talents, but we finally saw it for ourselves when, at an impasse, the group hit on a plan. We watched as Benmont stood up from the piano and slid on a bass guitar, while Jon landed on drums, and David stepped up on lead guitar. Sara and Benmont sang it, and we were all with them for the Jackson 5.
Benmont remained on bass for several numbers, including David's two Chuck Berry tunes. I loved David's semi-ironic vote of confidence before "30 Days," when he said somewhat under his breath, "This is going to be awesome," but you'd have to be a cold-hearted bastard to not join the rest of the room in yelling the chorus, even if (as in my case) you'd never heard the song before. Also, you could practically see the wheels turning in David's head as he tried to remember all the words to "No Money Down" but no matter--it was a hoot. And "John Wesley Harding" featured what might be one of my favorite Jon Brion virtuoso displays ever: a harmonica and tambourine solo, accomplished while clutching a pint of Guinness. Bravo! However, he took a more customary stance for the final number, "My Baby Left Me," before bidding us adieu.
Set 1
--piano
--Alcoholiday
--I Believe She's Lying
--She May Call You Up Tonight
--Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime
--Sexy Sadie [Les Paul style]
--Trial and Error
--I'm on a Roll with You
--Once in a Lifetime [+ Dylan mashup]
--Knock Yourself Out
--Everytime We Say Goodbye
--Sesame Street theme
--Mr. Rogers Neighborhood theme
--It's Not Easy Being Green
--It's Still Rock & Roll to Me/Only the Good Die Young/Just the Way You Are/She's Got a Way
--Eye of the Tiger
--Heart of Glass
--Hava Nagila
--Ain't Misbehavin'
--Pulling Mussels from the Shell [via Fats Waller]
--funky instrumental
--You Made the Girl
Set 2
--Copper Kettle [vocals = David] *
--I'll Keep It with Mine [vocals = Jon + David] *
--Freight Train [vocals = Sara] **
--Queen Jane Approximately [vocals = David] **
--Any Old Time [vocals = Sara] **
--Hop High My Lulu Girl [vocals = Sara] **
--I Want You Back [vocals = Sarah + Benmont] **
--30 Days [vocals = David] **
--No Money Down [vocals = David] **
--John Wesley Harding [vocals = David] **
--Hey Mona/Not Fade Away [vocals = Benmont] **
--My Baby Left Me **
* = with David Rawlings and Benmont Tench
** = with David Rawlings, Benmont Tench, and Sara and Sean Watkins
See also:
» no one alerted you
» here's a working model
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
i remember standing by the wall
In a perfect world, barring my exercising some form of self-control, my favorite musicians would put their heads together and work out a schedule where I'd see at least one performance by any of them in a single month. I'm prepared, however, to double up until this arrangement presents itself. For now, the baton passes back to Jon Brion.
Jon Brion, Largo, June 8, 2007: Though I saw three delightful Jon Brion appearances last month, I didn't consider any of them to be true Jon Brion shows. They helped fill the interim, however, until he returned to Largo. Fortunately, that day came sooner rather than later.
We didn't have a reservation tonight, but thanks to Job-like patience and pure, dumb luck, we snagged the hot seat bordering the stage. I've had the great fortune (?) to sit there a number of times, and it never ceases to unnerve me because it's so close to the action. Even more disturbing, Jon's setup tonight was relatively bare--that is, no keyboard or chamberlain to mark the divide, though the forest of electrical cords was intact. Though they were no help to us, a bunch of guitars awaited at the back of the stage, and both the celeste and a smaller keyboard straddled the piano.
Flanagan's intro was equally minimal, paving the way for Jon's arrival. He took to the piano in good spirits for an extended instrumental, ending with a nod to Jiminy Cricket.
The second song dawned on me more quickly than usual (probably because I've fixated on it so much recently), and though I managed to keep it together, it still made me feel like the happiest girl in the world. I've been throwing out all kinds of descriptions for Jon's take on "More Than This," but with tonight's performance, I think I've finally hit upon a summation I can live with. Take the windswept original, then layer Tony Visconti's production, à la "Ashes to Ashes," on top. At least, that's how I hear it.
Jon remained on piano for "Further Along," forgoing the song build for a bare, soulful treatment that also featured harmonica and percussion, courtesy of his fancy shoes. The first piano segment of the night concluded with a frantic "Heart and Soul" fueled by Red Bull.
"Love of My Life So Far" held the distinction of being the evening's introductory guitar song. I thought the extended outro sounded more stylized and less jammy than usual. Heidi later confirmed these suspicions when she informed me that Jon had stuck in bits of "Rhiannon" and "Secret Agent Man" before settling on "The Letter."
The Les Paul interpretation arrived without a murmur, just those crisp, layered licks that turned a classic rock anthem into a breezy, country-inflected ramble. I thought maybe we were staying on a '60s tip when Jon took his place behind the drums and kicked out that rollicking beat from "The End," but it turned out to be a warm-up for "Girl I Knew." For a change, we didn't hear the song's typically ornate outro; instead, we got a sparer treatment, which seeped into a Clash tune.
The sound of a cocktail shaker in the back of the room triggered "Girl from Ipanema," before Jon picked up on the tired and unfunny audience requests for his next number: a medley of cliched monster rock. Guitar would've been too easy; instead, he opted for the vocoder, the tiny keyboard, and his own voice singing the shredding solos.
Celeste and harmonica were the instruments of choice for "Knock Yourself Out" in the twinkly style that Jon's been favoring lately, while "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes" was dusted off for the first time in a while, on this occasion with a spare solo guitar. Jon's variation on "All You Need Is Love" came from an audience suggestion before it slid into purposeful apathy.
I can't recall if the Al Sherman requests came from the audience; regardless, they set Jon off on an extended tutorial on "the original Weird Al" and Jon's own admission that he had listened to Al's songs for many years before learning they were parodies of other tracks. In the process, we got a singalong of "Hello Mother Hello Father," as well as Jon's take on Patsy Cline's "Heartaches" and its Al Sherman analog, "Headaches."
More requests followed, including Jon's epoch-spanning version of "Dancing Queen." "Everything's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey" was squarely traditional and rocking, as was the always magnificent "Heroes," Jon's repudiation of all the dubious titles tossed about.
At this point, the side door opened, David Rawlings issued forth, and I went to Largo heaven. Jon greeted the beaming David and his gorgeous salmon-colored suit (not necessarily in that order) warmly before inviting him to peruse the guitars. David's arrival also marked the start of the unofficial second set.
If you've read this blog before, you may know that I saw David and Gillian Welch back in October for what is likely my favorite Largo show ever. I was hooked on the energy between David and Jon, so I knew that David's presence had to be a very good thing.
It's no rarity to attend a Jon Brion show and watch the headliner mixing it up with a guest, a friend, or even a complete stranger onstage and having a grand ol' time doing so. With David Rawlings, however, the dynamic felt different. Certainly, the talent that passes across the Largo stage is nothing to sneeze at, and I've seen a number of Jon's peers join him--Ethan Johns and Mitchell Froom, to name two. Maybe there's a novelty to David's presence, as he doesn't live in Los Angeles; maybe because of his association with a certain genre, David doesn't seem like an obvious choice as a foil or a counterpart to Jon. (Or maybe I should stop rationalizing and just enjoy it.)
In any case, David strikes me as the closest thing to a honest-to-goodness equal I've seen play with Jon. His deep knowledge of music history, his wide range of abilities, the pure joy projecting from his face, and most important, his willingness to throw himself into the maelstrom were all a fitting match for Jon. Together, they are a delight, a treasure, an addiction.
This collaboration commenced in a low-key manner, as they picked out guitars, loving adjusted each other's straps, and finally settled on a Neil Young song. Part way into their second number, Benmont Tench strolled in unannounced, sat down at the piano as if he owned it (as well he should), and planted himself right in the swing of the song. Less sure on his feet though clearly just as involved, David lost his balance and ended up tumbling into the amps and guitars lining the back wall. Both he and the suit, I'm happy to report, escaped unscathed.
At Largo, lulls are often a harbinger of treats to come as the performers dream up some unlikely song to pull off next; it's also a prime opportunity for audience suggestions, which is why I yelled out for "Cortez the Killer." The artists seemed to approve, but perhaps they didn't have the chops tonight. Rather, they went into "For the Turnstiles," a song I know well, thanks to my years amassing Grant Lee Buffalo covers and b-sides.
Back in October, the covers flowed freely, whether traditional or off-beat in nature, so I figured this was a chance to hear one of my favorites from that evening. Once again, the song got off to an unassuming start, as Jon (this time) took to the microphone to sing nearly a capella, "The phone rings in the middle of the night," with a much straighter face than David managed last time. David soon took his cue, and the song became a sort of duet, culminating with the two of them swooping to and from the microphone as they cooed the final refrain.
From the ridiculous to the sublime, they handled a Dylan tune before what turned out to be the rest of the Various and Sundry tour arrived. We sang happy birthday to the beautiful Sara Watkins (with an adorable new haircut!), who in turn belted out the Beatles, and Benmont took to the microphone for the Ramones ditty. Jon and Sara bonded over their mutual confusion on "Why Can't He Be You" and "She's Got You," they brought up Glen Phillips for a few tunes, and Luke Bulla joined in as well. Somewhere in this hot mess, David took to the drums for a short stretch and revealed at least one slight shortcoming among his lengthy list of talents.
Jon had settled into a background role by this point, most notably on "Exit Music (For a Film)," when the whole group stood back to listen to Glen. For the Hank Williams number, he confessed to not knowing the song, but Sean offered simple instructions: During the instrumental jam, "bash on E." Voilà, instant hootenanny!
[Editor's note: Earlier in the evening, we had learned that E is "the friendly key," as opposed to G, "the people's key."]
The collective gradually dissipated, until the last clutch of songs comprised merely Jon, David, and Benmont. Jason Boesel from Rilo Kiley, at David's urging ("Get the fuck up here"), joined them for "Ballad of a Thin Man," and I gotta say it was great to hear a real drummer after that haphazard but exhilarating run with the big group.
Benmont's pipes came out again, when he amended David's confusion with some of Dylan's verses. The final song of the night was all Jon and Benmont. I've heard them do "Waterloo Sunset" several times now, and two things keep it fresh. One is Jon's unadulterated admiration for the tune; the other is Benmont's magical touch. Tonight, he sent aloft a minimal play on the melody that perfectly drove home the wistfulness of the number and capped the 3-plus hours of entertainment.
Setlist
--piano noodling, ending with "When You Wish Upon a Star"
--More Than This
--Further Along
--Heart and Soul
--Love of My Life So Far/Rhiannon/Secret Agent Man/The Letter
--Baba O'Riley [Les Paul style]
--The End/Girl I Knew/Police on My Back
--Girl from Ipanema
--Freebird/???/Whole Lotta Love [instrumental]
--Knock Yourself Out
--Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime
--All You Need Is Love (Pretty Much)
--Al Sherman tutorial
--Dancing Queen [through the ages]
--Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey
--Heroes
with David Rawlings
--Tired Eyes [David]
with David Rawlings and Benmont Tench
--Nadine [David]
--For the Turnstiles [David]
--Femme Fatale
--Girls Just Want to Have Fun [Jon and David]
--It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
with David Rawlings, Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, and Sean Watkins
--Happy Birthday to Sara
--And Your Bird Can Sing [Sara]
--I Wanna Be Sedated [Benmont]
--Why Can't He Be You [Sara]
with David Rawlings, Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, Sean Watkins, and Glen Phillips
--Exit Music (For a Film) [Glen]
--It's Over Now [Glen]
with Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, Sean Watkins, Glen Phillips, and Luke Bulla
--Man of Constant Sorrow [Glen]
with David Rawlings, Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, Sean Watkins, Glen Phillips, and Luke Bulla
--I'm Blue, I'm Lonesome [Sara and Luke]
--Long Hot Summer Days [vocals = Sara]
--Short People [Sara and Sean]
--Political Science [Jon and Glen]
with David Rawlings and Benmont Tench
--Dayton, Ohio 1903
--Jolly Coppers on Parade [David]
--Ballad of a Thin Man [David and Benmont]
--Waterloo Sunset
brackets = lead singer
See also:
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
» here's a working model
» please share my umbrella
» wherever there is comfort, there is pain
Jon Brion, Largo, June 8, 2007: Though I saw three delightful Jon Brion appearances last month, I didn't consider any of them to be true Jon Brion shows. They helped fill the interim, however, until he returned to Largo. Fortunately, that day came sooner rather than later.
We didn't have a reservation tonight, but thanks to Job-like patience and pure, dumb luck, we snagged the hot seat bordering the stage. I've had the great fortune (?) to sit there a number of times, and it never ceases to unnerve me because it's so close to the action. Even more disturbing, Jon's setup tonight was relatively bare--that is, no keyboard or chamberlain to mark the divide, though the forest of electrical cords was intact. Though they were no help to us, a bunch of guitars awaited at the back of the stage, and both the celeste and a smaller keyboard straddled the piano.
Flanagan's intro was equally minimal, paving the way for Jon's arrival. He took to the piano in good spirits for an extended instrumental, ending with a nod to Jiminy Cricket.
The second song dawned on me more quickly than usual (probably because I've fixated on it so much recently), and though I managed to keep it together, it still made me feel like the happiest girl in the world. I've been throwing out all kinds of descriptions for Jon's take on "More Than This," but with tonight's performance, I think I've finally hit upon a summation I can live with. Take the windswept original, then layer Tony Visconti's production, à la "Ashes to Ashes," on top. At least, that's how I hear it.
Jon remained on piano for "Further Along," forgoing the song build for a bare, soulful treatment that also featured harmonica and percussion, courtesy of his fancy shoes. The first piano segment of the night concluded with a frantic "Heart and Soul" fueled by Red Bull.
"Love of My Life So Far" held the distinction of being the evening's introductory guitar song. I thought the extended outro sounded more stylized and less jammy than usual. Heidi later confirmed these suspicions when she informed me that Jon had stuck in bits of "Rhiannon" and "Secret Agent Man" before settling on "The Letter."
The Les Paul interpretation arrived without a murmur, just those crisp, layered licks that turned a classic rock anthem into a breezy, country-inflected ramble. I thought maybe we were staying on a '60s tip when Jon took his place behind the drums and kicked out that rollicking beat from "The End," but it turned out to be a warm-up for "Girl I Knew." For a change, we didn't hear the song's typically ornate outro; instead, we got a sparer treatment, which seeped into a Clash tune.
The sound of a cocktail shaker in the back of the room triggered "Girl from Ipanema," before Jon picked up on the tired and unfunny audience requests for his next number: a medley of cliched monster rock. Guitar would've been too easy; instead, he opted for the vocoder, the tiny keyboard, and his own voice singing the shredding solos.
Celeste and harmonica were the instruments of choice for "Knock Yourself Out" in the twinkly style that Jon's been favoring lately, while "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes" was dusted off for the first time in a while, on this occasion with a spare solo guitar. Jon's variation on "All You Need Is Love" came from an audience suggestion before it slid into purposeful apathy.
I can't recall if the Al Sherman requests came from the audience; regardless, they set Jon off on an extended tutorial on "the original Weird Al" and Jon's own admission that he had listened to Al's songs for many years before learning they were parodies of other tracks. In the process, we got a singalong of "Hello Mother Hello Father," as well as Jon's take on Patsy Cline's "Heartaches" and its Al Sherman analog, "Headaches."
More requests followed, including Jon's epoch-spanning version of "Dancing Queen." "Everything's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey" was squarely traditional and rocking, as was the always magnificent "Heroes," Jon's repudiation of all the dubious titles tossed about.
At this point, the side door opened, David Rawlings issued forth, and I went to Largo heaven. Jon greeted the beaming David and his gorgeous salmon-colored suit (not necessarily in that order) warmly before inviting him to peruse the guitars. David's arrival also marked the start of the unofficial second set.
If you've read this blog before, you may know that I saw David and Gillian Welch back in October for what is likely my favorite Largo show ever. I was hooked on the energy between David and Jon, so I knew that David's presence had to be a very good thing.
It's no rarity to attend a Jon Brion show and watch the headliner mixing it up with a guest, a friend, or even a complete stranger onstage and having a grand ol' time doing so. With David Rawlings, however, the dynamic felt different. Certainly, the talent that passes across the Largo stage is nothing to sneeze at, and I've seen a number of Jon's peers join him--Ethan Johns and Mitchell Froom, to name two. Maybe there's a novelty to David's presence, as he doesn't live in Los Angeles; maybe because of his association with a certain genre, David doesn't seem like an obvious choice as a foil or a counterpart to Jon. (Or maybe I should stop rationalizing and just enjoy it.)
In any case, David strikes me as the closest thing to a honest-to-goodness equal I've seen play with Jon. His deep knowledge of music history, his wide range of abilities, the pure joy projecting from his face, and most important, his willingness to throw himself into the maelstrom were all a fitting match for Jon. Together, they are a delight, a treasure, an addiction.
This collaboration commenced in a low-key manner, as they picked out guitars, loving adjusted each other's straps, and finally settled on a Neil Young song. Part way into their second number, Benmont Tench strolled in unannounced, sat down at the piano as if he owned it (as well he should), and planted himself right in the swing of the song. Less sure on his feet though clearly just as involved, David lost his balance and ended up tumbling into the amps and guitars lining the back wall. Both he and the suit, I'm happy to report, escaped unscathed.
At Largo, lulls are often a harbinger of treats to come as the performers dream up some unlikely song to pull off next; it's also a prime opportunity for audience suggestions, which is why I yelled out for "Cortez the Killer." The artists seemed to approve, but perhaps they didn't have the chops tonight. Rather, they went into "For the Turnstiles," a song I know well, thanks to my years amassing Grant Lee Buffalo covers and b-sides.
Back in October, the covers flowed freely, whether traditional or off-beat in nature, so I figured this was a chance to hear one of my favorites from that evening. Once again, the song got off to an unassuming start, as Jon (this time) took to the microphone to sing nearly a capella, "The phone rings in the middle of the night," with a much straighter face than David managed last time. David soon took his cue, and the song became a sort of duet, culminating with the two of them swooping to and from the microphone as they cooed the final refrain.
From the ridiculous to the sublime, they handled a Dylan tune before what turned out to be the rest of the Various and Sundry tour arrived. We sang happy birthday to the beautiful Sara Watkins (with an adorable new haircut!), who in turn belted out the Beatles, and Benmont took to the microphone for the Ramones ditty. Jon and Sara bonded over their mutual confusion on "Why Can't He Be You" and "She's Got You," they brought up Glen Phillips for a few tunes, and Luke Bulla joined in as well. Somewhere in this hot mess, David took to the drums for a short stretch and revealed at least one slight shortcoming among his lengthy list of talents.
Jon had settled into a background role by this point, most notably on "Exit Music (For a Film)," when the whole group stood back to listen to Glen. For the Hank Williams number, he confessed to not knowing the song, but Sean offered simple instructions: During the instrumental jam, "bash on E." Voilà, instant hootenanny!
[Editor's note: Earlier in the evening, we had learned that E is "the friendly key," as opposed to G, "the people's key."]
The collective gradually dissipated, until the last clutch of songs comprised merely Jon, David, and Benmont. Jason Boesel from Rilo Kiley, at David's urging ("Get the fuck up here"), joined them for "Ballad of a Thin Man," and I gotta say it was great to hear a real drummer after that haphazard but exhilarating run with the big group.
Benmont's pipes came out again, when he amended David's confusion with some of Dylan's verses. The final song of the night was all Jon and Benmont. I've heard them do "Waterloo Sunset" several times now, and two things keep it fresh. One is Jon's unadulterated admiration for the tune; the other is Benmont's magical touch. Tonight, he sent aloft a minimal play on the melody that perfectly drove home the wistfulness of the number and capped the 3-plus hours of entertainment.
Setlist
--piano noodling, ending with "When You Wish Upon a Star"
--More Than This
--Further Along
--Heart and Soul
--Love of My Life So Far/Rhiannon/Secret Agent Man/The Letter
--Baba O'Riley [Les Paul style]
--The End/Girl I Knew/Police on My Back
--Girl from Ipanema
--Freebird/???/Whole Lotta Love [instrumental]
--Knock Yourself Out
--Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime
--All You Need Is Love (Pretty Much)
--Al Sherman tutorial
--Dancing Queen [through the ages]
--Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey
--Heroes
with David Rawlings
--Tired Eyes [David]
with David Rawlings and Benmont Tench
--Nadine [David]
--For the Turnstiles [David]
--Femme Fatale
--Girls Just Want to Have Fun [Jon and David]
--It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
with David Rawlings, Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, and Sean Watkins
--Happy Birthday to Sara
--And Your Bird Can Sing [Sara]
--I Wanna Be Sedated [Benmont]
--Why Can't He Be You [Sara]
with David Rawlings, Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, Sean Watkins, and Glen Phillips
--Exit Music (For a Film) [Glen]
--It's Over Now [Glen]
with Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, Sean Watkins, Glen Phillips, and Luke Bulla
--Man of Constant Sorrow [Glen]
with David Rawlings, Benmont Tench, Sara Watkins, Sean Watkins, Glen Phillips, and Luke Bulla
--I'm Blue, I'm Lonesome [Sara and Luke]
--Long Hot Summer Days [vocals = Sara]
--Short People [Sara and Sean]
--Political Science [Jon and Glen]
with David Rawlings and Benmont Tench
--Dayton, Ohio 1903
--Jolly Coppers on Parade [David]
--Ballad of a Thin Man [David and Benmont]
--Waterloo Sunset
brackets = lead singer
See also:
» Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
» here's a working model
» please share my umbrella
» wherever there is comfort, there is pain
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
tell me that you've heard every sound there is
I've had the great pleasure to act as a Largo sherpa, if you will, for many friends over the years, but these past few months have yielded a bumper crop of trusting souls. Tonight, Rob and Lauren were the latest to subject themselves to the debriefing that accompanies that initial step known as the First Largo Visit, Usually to See Jon Brion. Who's next?
Jon Brion, Largo, March 30, 2007: There's a saying: You're only as good as your last record/book/haircut/etc. I'm not sure I believe in the statement to begin with, but it definitely doesn't hold true when it comes to Jon Brion's shows. Though Jon's Chicago shows were--in a word--stunning, you'd be a fool to assume that they held any indications of what to expect when Jon brought the show back to Los Angeles. And as it turned out, your assumption would be right.
On the heels of Flanagan's intro, Jon stumbled onstage, already sporting an acoustic guitar. Despite his choice of accessories, he was far from ready and definitely didn't have set plans, as we soon discovered. He gave it a shot anyway, with a short interlude that was half a tuning exercise and half a joke. The piano piece that followed started out just as amorphously, but it coalesced into something more tangible, with a resonant chord progression and light loops. I whispered to Evonne that it reminded me of Magnolia, while she cited I Heart Huckabees as her main touchstone.
Jon continued the piano improv until something in the music reminded him of the Charlie's Angels theme, which turned out to be the spark for one of his patented multisong medleys--you know, that stream-of-consciousness progression of tunes both classical and contemporary, frivolous and serious, interrupted by only thunderous claps of piano as Jon transitioned between selections. The parade didn't stop, but it eventually led into "Trouble." I can't imagine that I'll ever hear Jon squeeze as much pathos out of the song as he did in January, but tonight's version bore similarly withering qualities.
Jon took a little while to decide on his next direction, and even after he situated himself behind the drum kit, the song didn't take hold right away. He took his sweet old time working out the beat before leaving it alone to take the guitar. I'm pretty sure it was Jon's own song, which may or may not be called "Croatia"--I recognize it only because it always reminds me of Fleetwood Mac, then turns out not to be.
"Moonage Daydream" came in as a request and went out in Sun Records style, with tons of slapback and maybe a touch of Les Paul. Jon next build up a song I've heard at Largo before, but I can't figure out what it is. Regardless, it's turbulent, towering anthem, and it's a lot of fun.
Jon sat back down at the piano and donned a harmonica; it quickly became apparent that "Knock Yourself Out" was next, but Jon let the celeste butter up the crowd before the vocals kicked in. Because Jon was turned toward the celeste, he sang indirectly into the mic, sort of out of the side of his mouth and almost off the PA. There's something about the combination of that melody and the sound of the celeste that just screams charm. If Largo didn't keep its lights so low, we might've seen smiles all around the room.
At this point, Jon may have confessed that he had no idea what he was doing, so the requests were getting lots of play. "Here We Go" got a nice reaction out of Rob and Lauren, who recognized it from the Largo Web site; of course, it always gets a reaction out of me, but we've been through that many times already.
Jon dropped in a dozen or more Beatles riffs into "Tomorrow Never Knows," sort of like what he did with Benmont Tench and Greg Leisz back in November. As he ended the song, he confessed to visions of Cirque du Soleil's "Love" playing in his mind. He had more (negative) words about the Las Vegas production and reflected on the last 10 years he's spent creating Beatles mashups live onstage (sound familiar?).
Jon gave "Pachelbel's Canon" its due, but the next few songs were only snippets as he tested out requests. "Up the Junction" gave us the most amusing exchange. The gentleman in the back had yelled out for it more than once, but Jon wouldn't do it since he didn't know the words. Still, he played the general tune and even threw in a line or two from memory. When the requester offered to supply the words and lead the crowd, Jon batted him down more than once. Clearly, we weren't hearing the song tonight, but at least we enjoyed a good laugh.
Jon basked in a long lull filled with both good and bad requests before he gave in to the lure of "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright" on bass guitar. Strangely, he couldn't remember the lyrics, though he trots out the song often these days. "Strings That Tie to You" came next, and it should be noted that though Jon did both songs in Chicago, neither got the same treatment they did in the Midwest.
The first guest called to the stage this night was Benmont Tench, Largo's greatest team player. For their inaugural tune, Benmont humored Jon's exercise in prog; from there on, they tackled more straightfoward titles, including a very weak audience singalong on "Femme Fatale."
Next was Sara Watkins, who kicked off her contribution to the night with an old Kinks song. As I recall, Benmont's playing was especially gorgeous here--not that it's ever less than stellar. She moved to leave the stage after this song, but Jon forced her to stay, and with Benmont, they set about calling the shots. I think it was on "In Tall Buildings" when it seemed that Jon might leave the entire show to Sara and Benmont as he drank down his Guinness, but he eventually graced the song with a touch of bass guitar.
Not long after, they conscripted Sean Watkins for their merry band and a Gillian Welch cover. As they lingered over their next song selection, Flanagan took to the PA to command, "Benmont, play the shit out of that piano." Benmont picked up on the suggestion--and ran with it, slamming out "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling." Stationed in the DJ booth, Flanagan commandeered the mic again, this time adding vocals to the song. The artists onstage sort of helped out with the chorus, though it sounded a lot like that Irish drinking song game from Whose Line Is It Anyway. Decorum vaguely returned with the next few songs; the first two featured Sara on vocals before she left the stage for the evening, and Jon resumed the reigns for "Only Love Will Break Your Heart" with Benmont and Sean.
Full disclosure: I spied Badly Drawn Boy across the street from Largo before the show, and we saw him get seated. But Damon being Damon, there was no guarantee he'd get off his ass and take to the stage. My vanity, however, wanted to believe that the short chat I had with him in Chicago might've jogged his memory or, at least, made him pick up the phone to talk to his old friend. Thus, my ego got a tiny massage when Jon convinced Damon to join them, but the feeling was nothing compared to the euphoria of watching one of my Largo fantasies play out.
I sort of feel like the girl who cried wolf; I've seen so many "dream" shows at Largo (with Neil Finn, Glenn Kotche, Nels Cline, Michel Gondry, Kanye West, to name a few) that it might seem like I'm far too easily impressed. I won't deny that charge, but in my defense, I'll say that the odds happen to work in my favor. Considering that many musicians I love have connections to Largo, it would be more puzzling if they didn't show up from time to time.
Anyway, enough rationalization, more Badly Drawn Boy: I thought I had a decent grasp on Damon's stage persona. I've seen him cocky, sweet, sentimental, insulted, bratty, and genuinely flattered. Tonight, though, he displayed another facet altogether. Granted, he was incredibly drunk, but he was also wickedly hilarious.
After he finally acquiesced to Jon's invitation, Damon strapped on the acoustic guitar and almost immediately managed to insult everyone onstage. For example, though he and Jon hugged warmly, Damon confessed to a lie. Damon had told someone outside that he had played with Jon 10 times or more, but in truth, it was more like 2 times--it just felt like 10 because Jon went on for so long. Later, when Damon started on a song that he hadn't revealed to anyone (though it was readily apparent he was building up to "Donna and Blitzen"), he ordered Benmont to keep up with him. The story behind "Donna and Blitzen" was hilarious as well; I can't do it justice, but I'll mention that it involved a conversation with Santa and Damon on the first Christmas Eve ever in 1969. On at least one occasion, Damon referred to Santa as the "fat fuck in the red suit," while Santa preferred to use Damon's nickname ("Damo") when they were together.
In the end, the song featured Damon and Sean on acoustic guitar, Benmont on piano, and Jon on drums, after which Damon left the stage--to have another drink, if Jon was to be believed. For the last song of the night, Jon made an executive decision and logged his own request: barrelhouse piano from Benmont.
The maestro went to town, and his energy proved hard to resist. After watching on, Jon had a change of heart. He sidled up next to Benmont, cleared some space for himself on the bench, and threw himself at the keys. The two of them pummeled the piano, taking to their feet and bobbing their heads when they couldn't sit still anymore. Benmont momentarily ducked out and ceded the bench to Jon, only to swoop back in on the other side. Not only had Jon and Benmont done it again--that is, completely confound and astound us--they had done so in a way I've never witnessed before.
Only at Largo. Only at Largo.
Setlist:
--Smoke on the Water
--piano noodling
--piano megamedley (Charlie's Angels theme/Keystone Cops theme/Electric Avenue/Incense & Peppermint/Rhapsody in Blue/etc.)
--Trouble
--Croatia
--Moonage Daydream
--??? ["It's high time...with you/What I been through.../When you left me"]
--Knock Yourself Out
--Here We Go
--Tomorrow Never Knows [w/ numerous more Beatles riffs]
--Pachelbel's Canon
--lull [Love Will Keep Us Together, Up the Junction, Somewhere Over the Rainbow]
--Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
--Strings That Tie to You
--Chris Squire prog exercise*
--You Better Go Now* [title?]
--Walk On By*
--Femme Fatale*
--I Go to Sleep**
--In Tall Buildings**
--And Your Bird Can Sing**
--Caleb Meyer***
--When Irish Eyes Are Smiling*** [Flanagan lead vocals]
--Tennessee Waltz*** [Sara lead vocals]
--Why Can't He Be You*** [Sara lead vocals]
--Only Love Can Break Your Heart*** [Jon lead vocals]
--Donna and Blitzen ****
--Benmont (and Jon) barrelhouse piano
* = with Benmont Tench
** = with Sara Watkins and Benmont
*** = with Sara and Sean Watkins and Benmont
**** = with Damon Gough, Sean, and Benmont
See also:
» like a dream in the night
» we could steal time, just for one day
» i remember finding out about you
» come see what we all talk about
Jon Brion, Largo, March 30, 2007: There's a saying: You're only as good as your last record/book/haircut/etc. I'm not sure I believe in the statement to begin with, but it definitely doesn't hold true when it comes to Jon Brion's shows. Though Jon's Chicago shows were--in a word--stunning, you'd be a fool to assume that they held any indications of what to expect when Jon brought the show back to Los Angeles. And as it turned out, your assumption would be right.
On the heels of Flanagan's intro, Jon stumbled onstage, already sporting an acoustic guitar. Despite his choice of accessories, he was far from ready and definitely didn't have set plans, as we soon discovered. He gave it a shot anyway, with a short interlude that was half a tuning exercise and half a joke. The piano piece that followed started out just as amorphously, but it coalesced into something more tangible, with a resonant chord progression and light loops. I whispered to Evonne that it reminded me of Magnolia, while she cited I Heart Huckabees as her main touchstone.
Jon continued the piano improv until something in the music reminded him of the Charlie's Angels theme, which turned out to be the spark for one of his patented multisong medleys--you know, that stream-of-consciousness progression of tunes both classical and contemporary, frivolous and serious, interrupted by only thunderous claps of piano as Jon transitioned between selections. The parade didn't stop, but it eventually led into "Trouble." I can't imagine that I'll ever hear Jon squeeze as much pathos out of the song as he did in January, but tonight's version bore similarly withering qualities.
Jon took a little while to decide on his next direction, and even after he situated himself behind the drum kit, the song didn't take hold right away. He took his sweet old time working out the beat before leaving it alone to take the guitar. I'm pretty sure it was Jon's own song, which may or may not be called "Croatia"--I recognize it only because it always reminds me of Fleetwood Mac, then turns out not to be.
"Moonage Daydream" came in as a request and went out in Sun Records style, with tons of slapback and maybe a touch of Les Paul. Jon next build up a song I've heard at Largo before, but I can't figure out what it is. Regardless, it's turbulent, towering anthem, and it's a lot of fun.
Jon sat back down at the piano and donned a harmonica; it quickly became apparent that "Knock Yourself Out" was next, but Jon let the celeste butter up the crowd before the vocals kicked in. Because Jon was turned toward the celeste, he sang indirectly into the mic, sort of out of the side of his mouth and almost off the PA. There's something about the combination of that melody and the sound of the celeste that just screams charm. If Largo didn't keep its lights so low, we might've seen smiles all around the room.
At this point, Jon may have confessed that he had no idea what he was doing, so the requests were getting lots of play. "Here We Go" got a nice reaction out of Rob and Lauren, who recognized it from the Largo Web site; of course, it always gets a reaction out of me, but we've been through that many times already.
Jon dropped in a dozen or more Beatles riffs into "Tomorrow Never Knows," sort of like what he did with Benmont Tench and Greg Leisz back in November. As he ended the song, he confessed to visions of Cirque du Soleil's "Love" playing in his mind. He had more (negative) words about the Las Vegas production and reflected on the last 10 years he's spent creating Beatles mashups live onstage (sound familiar?).
Jon gave "Pachelbel's Canon" its due, but the next few songs were only snippets as he tested out requests. "Up the Junction" gave us the most amusing exchange. The gentleman in the back had yelled out for it more than once, but Jon wouldn't do it since he didn't know the words. Still, he played the general tune and even threw in a line or two from memory. When the requester offered to supply the words and lead the crowd, Jon batted him down more than once. Clearly, we weren't hearing the song tonight, but at least we enjoyed a good laugh.
Jon basked in a long lull filled with both good and bad requests before he gave in to the lure of "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright" on bass guitar. Strangely, he couldn't remember the lyrics, though he trots out the song often these days. "Strings That Tie to You" came next, and it should be noted that though Jon did both songs in Chicago, neither got the same treatment they did in the Midwest.
The first guest called to the stage this night was Benmont Tench, Largo's greatest team player. For their inaugural tune, Benmont humored Jon's exercise in prog; from there on, they tackled more straightfoward titles, including a very weak audience singalong on "Femme Fatale."
Next was Sara Watkins, who kicked off her contribution to the night with an old Kinks song. As I recall, Benmont's playing was especially gorgeous here--not that it's ever less than stellar. She moved to leave the stage after this song, but Jon forced her to stay, and with Benmont, they set about calling the shots. I think it was on "In Tall Buildings" when it seemed that Jon might leave the entire show to Sara and Benmont as he drank down his Guinness, but he eventually graced the song with a touch of bass guitar.
Not long after, they conscripted Sean Watkins for their merry band and a Gillian Welch cover. As they lingered over their next song selection, Flanagan took to the PA to command, "Benmont, play the shit out of that piano." Benmont picked up on the suggestion--and ran with it, slamming out "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling." Stationed in the DJ booth, Flanagan commandeered the mic again, this time adding vocals to the song. The artists onstage sort of helped out with the chorus, though it sounded a lot like that Irish drinking song game from Whose Line Is It Anyway. Decorum vaguely returned with the next few songs; the first two featured Sara on vocals before she left the stage for the evening, and Jon resumed the reigns for "Only Love Will Break Your Heart" with Benmont and Sean.
Full disclosure: I spied Badly Drawn Boy across the street from Largo before the show, and we saw him get seated. But Damon being Damon, there was no guarantee he'd get off his ass and take to the stage. My vanity, however, wanted to believe that the short chat I had with him in Chicago might've jogged his memory or, at least, made him pick up the phone to talk to his old friend. Thus, my ego got a tiny massage when Jon convinced Damon to join them, but the feeling was nothing compared to the euphoria of watching one of my Largo fantasies play out.
I sort of feel like the girl who cried wolf; I've seen so many "dream" shows at Largo (with Neil Finn, Glenn Kotche, Nels Cline, Michel Gondry, Kanye West, to name a few) that it might seem like I'm far too easily impressed. I won't deny that charge, but in my defense, I'll say that the odds happen to work in my favor. Considering that many musicians I love have connections to Largo, it would be more puzzling if they didn't show up from time to time.
Anyway, enough rationalization, more Badly Drawn Boy: I thought I had a decent grasp on Damon's stage persona. I've seen him cocky, sweet, sentimental, insulted, bratty, and genuinely flattered. Tonight, though, he displayed another facet altogether. Granted, he was incredibly drunk, but he was also wickedly hilarious.
After he finally acquiesced to Jon's invitation, Damon strapped on the acoustic guitar and almost immediately managed to insult everyone onstage. For example, though he and Jon hugged warmly, Damon confessed to a lie. Damon had told someone outside that he had played with Jon 10 times or more, but in truth, it was more like 2 times--it just felt like 10 because Jon went on for so long. Later, when Damon started on a song that he hadn't revealed to anyone (though it was readily apparent he was building up to "Donna and Blitzen"), he ordered Benmont to keep up with him. The story behind "Donna and Blitzen" was hilarious as well; I can't do it justice, but I'll mention that it involved a conversation with Santa and Damon on the first Christmas Eve ever in 1969. On at least one occasion, Damon referred to Santa as the "fat fuck in the red suit," while Santa preferred to use Damon's nickname ("Damo") when they were together.
In the end, the song featured Damon and Sean on acoustic guitar, Benmont on piano, and Jon on drums, after which Damon left the stage--to have another drink, if Jon was to be believed. For the last song of the night, Jon made an executive decision and logged his own request: barrelhouse piano from Benmont.
The maestro went to town, and his energy proved hard to resist. After watching on, Jon had a change of heart. He sidled up next to Benmont, cleared some space for himself on the bench, and threw himself at the keys. The two of them pummeled the piano, taking to their feet and bobbing their heads when they couldn't sit still anymore. Benmont momentarily ducked out and ceded the bench to Jon, only to swoop back in on the other side. Not only had Jon and Benmont done it again--that is, completely confound and astound us--they had done so in a way I've never witnessed before.
Only at Largo. Only at Largo.
Setlist:
--Smoke on the Water
--piano noodling
--piano megamedley (Charlie's Angels theme/Keystone Cops theme/Electric Avenue/Incense & Peppermint/Rhapsody in Blue/etc.)
--Trouble
--Croatia
--Moonage Daydream
--??? ["It's high time...with you/What I been through.../When you left me"]
--Knock Yourself Out
--Here We Go
--Tomorrow Never Knows [w/ numerous more Beatles riffs]
--Pachelbel's Canon
--lull [Love Will Keep Us Together, Up the Junction, Somewhere Over the Rainbow]
--Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
--Strings That Tie to You
--Chris Squire prog exercise*
--You Better Go Now* [title?]
--Walk On By*
--Femme Fatale*
--I Go to Sleep**
--In Tall Buildings**
--And Your Bird Can Sing**
--Caleb Meyer***
--When Irish Eyes Are Smiling*** [Flanagan lead vocals]
--Tennessee Waltz*** [Sara lead vocals]
--Why Can't He Be You*** [Sara lead vocals]
--Only Love Can Break Your Heart*** [Jon lead vocals]
--Donna and Blitzen ****
--Benmont (and Jon) barrelhouse piano
* = with Benmont Tench
** = with Sara Watkins and Benmont
*** = with Sara and Sean Watkins and Benmont
**** = with Damon Gough, Sean, and Benmont
See also:
» like a dream in the night
» we could steal time, just for one day
» i remember finding out about you
» come see what we all talk about
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg
And Benmont! And David Garza too!
Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg, Largo, October 13, 2006: Don't ask me how it happened that the Anglophile is reporting on her second bluegrass-associated event in the last week. But twang or no twang, I'm no fool, and after last week's Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival, there was no way I could pass up this dream bill.
I've never seen a Gillian Welch/David Rawlings show or the Watkins Family Hour before, so I can't compare tonight's gig to anything they've previously done. But I've attended a couple of Jon Brion shows. The obvious analogy would be Jon's second set, where high-wattage friends sometimes show up to amaze and delight. Those later sets are a good starting point, but tonight, we saw a one-of-a-kind gathering.
True to the billing, Gillian, David, Sara, and Sean were the headliners, trading off vocal duties. Jon was more of a background player, though he stepped up to the mic as the mood struck him. At many points during the night, he stood behind the main quartet, understatedly strumming his guitar and smiling beatifically at the musical goodness. Greg Leisz, for reasons unstated, didn't show up until about 1/3 of the way through the show. But with the unbilled Benmont Tench (maybe his name didn't fit on the Largo Web site?) on hand all night, who were we to complain? David Garza ducked in and out for a couple of songs--no more, no less.
Generally, they followed a very loose pattern: Group huddles; mulls over song choices; decides on song; pulls it off beautifully, usually with a solo opportunity for each musician; ends song; crowd begins whooping. Sara said they had gone through part of all the songs at least once, and Sean explained that they even had a short list, though they quickly realized it wouldn't do them any good. They carried a tiny tatter of a sheet onstage, but I can't imagine that it had every song they eventually played.
There was no clear leader, and the musicians simultaneously deferred to and egged on each other: moving out of the way so that the audience could view the soloist, for example, while calling each other out for spontaneous solos during the course of each song. Considering the lulls we witnessed, it's amazing that they managed to get in as many tunes as they did.
Sara and Sean honed in on covers, while Gillian and David did a few originals, mostly at the request of the other musicians onstage. With the seamless harmonies on the second song, my heart grew about a dozen sizes, and I wanted to cry every time Benmont touched the keys. Sara's voice was especially enchanting on "Different Drum," though the swooping vocals seemed to take a lot out of her. Evonne and I giggled like schoolgirls when Sean turned in "Moonshiner" with an arrangement that highlighted his bluegrass instincts, though he acknowledged that Dylan and Uncle Tupelo, among others, beat him to the punch.
Gillian and David were a complete revelation (groan) to me. Obviously, I didn't take their appearance with Elvis Costello last week to be representative of their sound or dynamic, but I suspect that what they pulled off at Largo would've surprised their faithful as well. Sure, we got tons of Dylan, as well as traditional folk songs. Though they've been known to pull off "White Rabbit" in past shows, it was still a hoot, and when David prodded Gillian into "Stop Dragging My Heart Around" (because, she claimed, he wanted to sing one of the lines from the song), it took a moment to absorb the full, delicious irony of the situation. At the end, nearly the entire group looked to Benmont, who declared that it was a great song.
Their years of collaboration showed, as you watched them communicate with looks and chords--no words needed. David would play a couple of notes from a specific song and peer at Gillian for a response, and that'd be it. Off to the races!
True to the spirit of Largo, Gillian took to the drums a few times. Sometimes, it was just a light touch on brushes and the kick drum, such as on "Write Myself a Letter," but she rocked hard on at least a couple of selections. After David silently mouthed "drums" to her and tipped his head to the back of the stage, she headed to the kit for "Positively 4th Street," and "Short People" had her banging away too.
In a night of eye-openers, David Rawlings was the most amazing of them all. Again, I plead complete ignorance of his work, but after the show, Evonne confirmed that he generally takes a more buttoned-down role with Gillian. In utter contrast to that image, tonight, he was an instigator and a ringleader--and a mischievous one, at that! He sang a lot and suggested a number of songs for Gillian. Of course, with Gillian, he turned in perfect harmonies, though his voice by itself was reedier. But he owned the last batch of Dylan selections, and "Country Girl" was right on target as well.
I think we should've been suspicious when David and Jon took the stage, tripping over each other's heels and laughing at some private joke. Not long after they started, Jon shared a short anecdote about walking past the bar to get to the stage and a guy yelling out, "I love you, David!" Jon informed the patron that David was only a few steps behind, and sure enough, as he continued to the front, he heard the guy repeat it to David. Jon added that he couldn't agree more.
Throughout the night, Jon and David could be seen in private conference, constantly in smiles and sharing a few hugs. Just as I was whispering to Evonne that Jon and David were BFFs and should totally make out with each other, they launched into "Positively 4th Street"--sharing the mic. It was a major RSBF moment. Swoon.
Jon and David don't particularly resemble each other, but they're about the same height with similar builds, and they certainly shared a healthy enthusiasm and sense of adventure onstage. Watching them play together, I had no problem seeing them as kindred spirits. Later, when Evonne told me that David did a lot of production work, it added another dimension to their connection.
If I had to choose a single highlight of the show, it'd be David's earnest, bare-bones rendition of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." I couldn't believe my ears, but he followed through, slyly smiling the whole time. Inevitably, someone in the peanut gallery called out for "Time After Time," and it proved to be a lesson to be careful what you ask for. Even as the rest of the musicians shrugged it off as an impossibility, Jon turned in a couple of licks, and they were on their way, though no one could remember the lyrics. Perhaps unsatisfied with the effort, Jon took the helm for a "Sun style" reading of "All Through the Night."
Oh right, the Jon Brion content: Jon sang only a few songs and didn't even add backing vocals to many of the titles. In my very biased opinion, the pace really picked up with Jon's first turn on lead vocals, the aforementioned "Positively 4th Street." It may have helped that Greg had joined them by then, but it was one of those communal, sing-at-the-top-of-your-lungs moments that will forever bring me back to Largo.
Along with Sean, Jon was the most willing to chat with the audience, and he had a couple of zingers tonight. After "Look at Miss Ohio," on which he had played the drums, he came to the front of the stage specifically to declare, "Hots damn, I love me that song." Later, after another sparse, moving double harmony from Gillian and David, Jon held forth on the four things we should all do:
Before I truly lose everyone, I want to get in some words about Benmont and Greg. I've blogged extensively about Benmont, but this was my first time seeing Greg, who initially came to my attention on the Grant Lee Buffalo records. There's nothing I can say that a million other grateful music lovers haven't already, but I have to note that there was something very comforting about seeing these industry veterans anchoring their respective ends of the stage and the songs themselves. During "Tennessee Waltz," in particular, the two of them carved out a slice of heaven with their combined solos. And in a sure sign that the feeling was shared, Jon roared, "More!" at both of them during "My Baby Left Me."
I should've wrapped this up about 1,000 words ago, but before I release this to the Internets and my five faithful readers, I'll add a few details that I can't let go:
OK, I'm really done now. Thanks for sticking it out! Come to Largo more often!
The setlist:
--You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go [Sean]
--Early Mornin' Rain [Sara]
--I Hear Them All [David]
--One More Dollar [Gillian]
--Different Drum [Sara]
--Look at Miss Ohio [Gillian]
--Any Old Time [Sara]
--Moonshiner [Sean]
--Wicked Messenger [David and Gillian]
--Throw Me a Rope [Gillian and David]
--Positively 4th Street [Jon]
--Write Myself a Letter [Sean]
--Country Girl [David]
--Don't Worry Baby [David Garza]
--Keys to the Kingdom [Gillian]
--Short People [Sara]
--Tennessee Waltz [Sara]
--Bury Me Beneath the Willow [Sean]
--Girls Just Wanna Have Fun [David]
--Time After Time [David]
--All Through the Night [Jon]
--White Rabbit [Gillian]
--My Morphine [Gillian]
--Stop Dragging My Heart Around [Gillian and David]
--Luminous Rose [David]
--Don't Think Twice It's Alright [Sean, David, Jon, and Gillian]
--Queen Jane Approximately [David]
--My Baby Left Me [Jon]
--Baby You're a Rich Man [David]
brackets = lead singer
See also:
» now I try to be amused
» top 5 Largo memories
Gillian, David, Sean, Sara, Jon, Greg, Largo, October 13, 2006: Don't ask me how it happened that the Anglophile is reporting on her second bluegrass-associated event in the last week. But twang or no twang, I'm no fool, and after last week's Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival, there was no way I could pass up this dream bill.
I've never seen a Gillian Welch/David Rawlings show or the Watkins Family Hour before, so I can't compare tonight's gig to anything they've previously done. But I've attended a couple of Jon Brion shows. The obvious analogy would be Jon's second set, where high-wattage friends sometimes show up to amaze and delight. Those later sets are a good starting point, but tonight, we saw a one-of-a-kind gathering.
True to the billing, Gillian, David, Sara, and Sean were the headliners, trading off vocal duties. Jon was more of a background player, though he stepped up to the mic as the mood struck him. At many points during the night, he stood behind the main quartet, understatedly strumming his guitar and smiling beatifically at the musical goodness. Greg Leisz, for reasons unstated, didn't show up until about 1/3 of the way through the show. But with the unbilled Benmont Tench (maybe his name didn't fit on the Largo Web site?) on hand all night, who were we to complain? David Garza ducked in and out for a couple of songs--no more, no less.
Generally, they followed a very loose pattern: Group huddles; mulls over song choices; decides on song; pulls it off beautifully, usually with a solo opportunity for each musician; ends song; crowd begins whooping. Sara said they had gone through part of all the songs at least once, and Sean explained that they even had a short list, though they quickly realized it wouldn't do them any good. They carried a tiny tatter of a sheet onstage, but I can't imagine that it had every song they eventually played.
There was no clear leader, and the musicians simultaneously deferred to and egged on each other: moving out of the way so that the audience could view the soloist, for example, while calling each other out for spontaneous solos during the course of each song. Considering the lulls we witnessed, it's amazing that they managed to get in as many tunes as they did.
Sara and Sean honed in on covers, while Gillian and David did a few originals, mostly at the request of the other musicians onstage. With the seamless harmonies on the second song, my heart grew about a dozen sizes, and I wanted to cry every time Benmont touched the keys. Sara's voice was especially enchanting on "Different Drum," though the swooping vocals seemed to take a lot out of her. Evonne and I giggled like schoolgirls when Sean turned in "Moonshiner" with an arrangement that highlighted his bluegrass instincts, though he acknowledged that Dylan and Uncle Tupelo, among others, beat him to the punch.
Gillian and David were a complete revelation (groan) to me. Obviously, I didn't take their appearance with Elvis Costello last week to be representative of their sound or dynamic, but I suspect that what they pulled off at Largo would've surprised their faithful as well. Sure, we got tons of Dylan, as well as traditional folk songs. Though they've been known to pull off "White Rabbit" in past shows, it was still a hoot, and when David prodded Gillian into "Stop Dragging My Heart Around" (because, she claimed, he wanted to sing one of the lines from the song), it took a moment to absorb the full, delicious irony of the situation. At the end, nearly the entire group looked to Benmont, who declared that it was a great song.
Their years of collaboration showed, as you watched them communicate with looks and chords--no words needed. David would play a couple of notes from a specific song and peer at Gillian for a response, and that'd be it. Off to the races!
True to the spirit of Largo, Gillian took to the drums a few times. Sometimes, it was just a light touch on brushes and the kick drum, such as on "Write Myself a Letter," but she rocked hard on at least a couple of selections. After David silently mouthed "drums" to her and tipped his head to the back of the stage, she headed to the kit for "Positively 4th Street," and "Short People" had her banging away too.
In a night of eye-openers, David Rawlings was the most amazing of them all. Again, I plead complete ignorance of his work, but after the show, Evonne confirmed that he generally takes a more buttoned-down role with Gillian. In utter contrast to that image, tonight, he was an instigator and a ringleader--and a mischievous one, at that! He sang a lot and suggested a number of songs for Gillian. Of course, with Gillian, he turned in perfect harmonies, though his voice by itself was reedier. But he owned the last batch of Dylan selections, and "Country Girl" was right on target as well.
I think we should've been suspicious when David and Jon took the stage, tripping over each other's heels and laughing at some private joke. Not long after they started, Jon shared a short anecdote about walking past the bar to get to the stage and a guy yelling out, "I love you, David!" Jon informed the patron that David was only a few steps behind, and sure enough, as he continued to the front, he heard the guy repeat it to David. Jon added that he couldn't agree more.
Throughout the night, Jon and David could be seen in private conference, constantly in smiles and sharing a few hugs. Just as I was whispering to Evonne that Jon and David were BFFs and should totally make out with each other, they launched into "Positively 4th Street"--sharing the mic. It was a major RSBF moment. Swoon.
Jon and David don't particularly resemble each other, but they're about the same height with similar builds, and they certainly shared a healthy enthusiasm and sense of adventure onstage. Watching them play together, I had no problem seeing them as kindred spirits. Later, when Evonne told me that David did a lot of production work, it added another dimension to their connection.
If I had to choose a single highlight of the show, it'd be David's earnest, bare-bones rendition of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." I couldn't believe my ears, but he followed through, slyly smiling the whole time. Inevitably, someone in the peanut gallery called out for "Time After Time," and it proved to be a lesson to be careful what you ask for. Even as the rest of the musicians shrugged it off as an impossibility, Jon turned in a couple of licks, and they were on their way, though no one could remember the lyrics. Perhaps unsatisfied with the effort, Jon took the helm for a "Sun style" reading of "All Through the Night."
Oh right, the Jon Brion content: Jon sang only a few songs and didn't even add backing vocals to many of the titles. In my very biased opinion, the pace really picked up with Jon's first turn on lead vocals, the aforementioned "Positively 4th Street." It may have helped that Greg had joined them by then, but it was one of those communal, sing-at-the-top-of-your-lungs moments that will forever bring me back to Largo.
Along with Sean, Jon was the most willing to chat with the audience, and he had a couple of zingers tonight. After "Look at Miss Ohio," on which he had played the drums, he came to the front of the stage specifically to declare, "Hots damn, I love me that song." Later, after another sparse, moving double harmony from Gillian and David, Jon held forth on the four things we should all do:
- Learn to write.
- Learn to sing.
- Learn to play an instrument.
- Learn to listen to each other sympathetically.
Before I truly lose everyone, I want to get in some words about Benmont and Greg. I've blogged extensively about Benmont, but this was my first time seeing Greg, who initially came to my attention on the Grant Lee Buffalo records. There's nothing I can say that a million other grateful music lovers haven't already, but I have to note that there was something very comforting about seeing these industry veterans anchoring their respective ends of the stage and the songs themselves. During "Tennessee Waltz," in particular, the two of them carved out a slice of heaven with their combined solos. And in a sure sign that the feeling was shared, Jon roared, "More!" at both of them during "My Baby Left Me."
I should've wrapped this up about 1,000 words ago, but before I release this to the Internets and my five faithful readers, I'll add a few details that I can't let go:
- In the middle of the first extended huddle of the night, Jon brightened considerably and declared, "It's our first lull!"
- Jon's blistering ukulele solo on "Positively 4th Street"
- Jon revealing the name of the band: WWWRBT, or WWWRBTL when Greg joined
- Not bothering to adjust the mic, Sean standing on his tiptoes to sing "Short People" with Jon
- Sean and David, respectively, taking the first two verses of "Don't Think Twice It's Alright" (yet another no-brainer request from me) but messing up the lyrics, recruiting Jon for the third verse, then handing off the fourth verse to Gillian
- David shadowing Jon and adding Elvis-parodying harmonies during "My Baby Left Me," while they grinned at each other nonstop
- David and Jon speaking in nonsensical shorthand about "baby," which turned out to be the last song of the evening: "Baby You're a Rich Man"
OK, I'm really done now. Thanks for sticking it out! Come to Largo more often!
The setlist:
--You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go [Sean]
--Early Mornin' Rain [Sara]
--I Hear Them All [David]
--One More Dollar [Gillian]
--Different Drum [Sara]
--Look at Miss Ohio [Gillian]
--Any Old Time [Sara]
--Moonshiner [Sean]
--Wicked Messenger [David and Gillian]
--Throw Me a Rope [Gillian and David]
--Positively 4th Street [Jon]
--Write Myself a Letter [Sean]
--Country Girl [David]
--Don't Worry Baby [David Garza]
--Keys to the Kingdom [Gillian]
--Short People [Sara]
--Tennessee Waltz [Sara]
--Bury Me Beneath the Willow [Sean]
--Girls Just Wanna Have Fun [David]
--Time After Time [David]
--All Through the Night [Jon]
--White Rabbit [Gillian]
--My Morphine [Gillian]
--Stop Dragging My Heart Around [Gillian and David]
--Luminous Rose [David]
--Don't Think Twice It's Alright [Sean, David, Jon, and Gillian]
--Queen Jane Approximately [David]
--My Baby Left Me [Jon]
--Baby You're a Rich Man [David]
brackets = lead singer
See also:
» now I try to be amused
» top 5 Largo memories
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