wasn't the question you asked

I've never been obsessed with being young -- not even when I was young -- but I've reached the stage where many of my favorites are hitting milestone ages. It's always a gut check, but if you're lucky, it can be a celebration too. Man, I'm glad that Spiral Stairs, aka Scott Kannberg per Pavement, decided to share his 50th annum with us, the unwashed masses.

Spiral Stairs' 50th Birthday featuring Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, The Chapel, Oct. 1-2, 2016: The Clean were the original headliners for Saturday night, but for a reason I never learned, they couldn't make it. Also, Kelley Stoltz couldn't make it because he was touring with Echo and the Bunnymen, which is amazing news for such a talented guy. Thus, it became two nights of Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, along with the accompanying Pavement expectations -- in due time.

For Your Pleasure -- a Roxy Music cover band -- opened on Saturday night, and they were great. They made no attempt to ape Roxy's sartorial style, but the lead singer came close enough to Bryan Ferry's tones, and the rest of the musicians held their own. Their song selection was fantastic, and I loved the hits as well as the deep cuts. ("Mother of Pearl"!) However, I laughed at the guy who complained about the lack of "In Every Dream Home a Heartache."

Honestly, I can't remember the second band from Saturday, and the opener on Sunday was fine, if not spectacular. All you need to know is the various musicians mixed and matched in each other's bands; it was those kind of shows -- basically a big house party with damn good tunes. In fact, as we hung around the back early on Saturday night, we saw various friends approach Scott/Spiral and heard a few mentioning high school.



I've already covered this in the blog, but I'm not a reunion person. Through no fault of the bands, reunion shows now make me sad and feel my age. I loved Pavement like few other bands and jumped on tickets when the first reunion shows went on sale. However, I never made it. I think I was out of town when the dates finally rolled around, but my mind was already made up at that point.

As for Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, color me shocked that I haven't seen them since 2008! I know I missed a tour or two because I was too lazy to buy tix to more recent shows, and I think the band took a long hiatus somewhere in there. But I had no idea it's been that long. I've said this before, but Malkmus strikes me as this era's Robyn Hitchcock: the leader of an underappreciated seminal band who goes on to a much weirder later career.

I'd be lying if I said I loved the more recent stuff, and it was hard to dial into the superextended guitar noodling passages that seemed to characterize every song. In fact, I'm not sure they did anything from the first couple of records, which are the ones I listened to the most.



But that's not the point, because this was Spiral/Scott's birthday, and they basically presented him with a musical birthday card. They sprinkled in several songs that influenced his own music career, including tracks from the Clean, the Stranglers, and of course, Echo and the Bunnymen. On the second night, Stephen commented Saturday's proceedings basically amounted to a high-school sausage party -- which we had suspected all along -- but from the outside, it seemed like a very sweet gift to an old friend.

Oh right, the Pavement tracks: Everyone knew they were coming, and several of the more enthusiastic attendees started in with the requests early on. Too bad -- Scott and Stephen had a plan, and they were sticking with it. It took me a few tunes before I realized the criteria: They were doing Scott's tracks, not random Pavement songs. It made sense on every level, so we got most of Scott's titles, along with one from Preston School of Industry and a tune from his new project. "Date with Ikea" made both nights, and one of my absolute favorite Pavement songs, "Kennel District," made the cut. In fact, the song jogged my memory and reminded me that I used to see Scott at a million shows in town. Those were the days.

The two semi-surprises the first night were "Summer Babe" and "Stereo," though in retrospect, I guess the latter gave Scott a great chance to take the role usually claimed by Bob Nastanovich. Neither are Scott compositions per se, but I'll take them both. They were smart enough to mete out the tunes and give us "Two States" the second night, along with fan favorite "Box Elder." By the way, none other than GARY FUCKING JOHNSON joined them for the tune and finished off his portion with the requisite headstand. No, he isn't looking well.



Even I have to admit a reunion show can be a ton of fun, and I couldn't stop singing the songs or thinking about how much I love(d) Pavement. You know how it is -- now that all of my music is on my iPhone, I'm too lazy to swap out songs. It's easy to forget I have the entire Pavement discography at the ready, if only I remember to check some boxes now and again. I'll do that tonight, I swear.

Happy 50th to you, Scott/Spiral. Thanks for sharing it with the rest of us.

See also:
» richard avedon would surely approve
» pre-easily fooled
» used to be one of the rotten ones

richard avedon would surely approve

Though the Verve were the big Coachella coup of the season, they weren't the only ones crowding my concert docket. The festival also ushered Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks back into town, and that's a ticket I can't refuse.

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, the Fillmore, April 27, 2008: In case you haven't kept count, this marks the fourth time Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks have dropped in on San Francisco in the last year and a half. I've caught three of those shows (I was in New Orleans when they played Amoeba Records), and tonight, Brianne was joining me for her first real Malkmus show. It was also the first time I've seen the band since Real Emotional Trash was officially released.

If I like a band enough, I don't care whether they're promoting new material, trying out songs in progress, or just having fun on the stage. Generally, the second and third categories are my favorites, but it depends greatly on the band in question. The last couple of times I've seen the Jicks, they've put on strong shows--that is, they were engaged and exploratory, and I'm constantly surprised by how little (if at all) Stephen trades on his status as the former Pavement frontman.

From the beginning of the set, all signs pointed to a great gig. Steve came out chatty, loose, and grinning (and hot), and he stayed in that zone throughout the gig, discussing (as always) local sports teams, among other topics. As is also his wont, he seemed to detour from the setlist several times, occasionally alerting his band members when he wanted to stick to the original plan. Not that his records were always so accurate--early on in the set, he announced they would do "Elmo Delmo" next, but Joanna Bolme reminded him that was their opener.

Speaking of Joanna, she and Janet Weiss get a good amount of attention in the band, and it's no secret why. When introducing the band, Steve in all sincerity called Joanna "a very dear friend," and she's not shy about calling him out when he's being particularly silly. But she also handles his musical divergences with aplomb, even when the songs traipse off into Jam Land, and her playing shone on "Baltimore."



Janet is a force unto herself, inspiring cries of "We love you, Janet!" from the audience. One of her major moments in the spotlight was probably in "Real Emotional Trash," as her rhythm drove the bridge. In fact, the whole song sounded like the most complete band effort I've yet heard from the Jicks. It's no wonder why it's the album's centerpiece.

Mike Clark was not to be ignored, either, and I'm not referring to his garish gold jacket (an homage to the 49ers, according to Steve). On "Gardenia," he threw off his guitar to do a running-in-place dance while also playing the keyboards. Unfortunately, this thoroughly messed up his axe, but they were able to get a replacement in a few songs later.



When we were in L.A. the following weekend, we listened to the Jukebox Jury on Indie 103, and I believe it was the critic Ann Powers who noted that Malkmus may be the only person trying to meld punk and prog. I wouldn't disagree with her; in fact, during the course of this show, I kept thinking that Malkmus had not necessarily thrown over his earlier band's influences, but had at least come back to the likes of Creedence Clearwater Revival for inspiration. He may also be the only one who can get away with it.

In addition to the songs from Real Emotional Trash, they pick and chose through their back catalog for "Vanessa from Queens," a great, heavier version of "It Kills," and a crowd request for "The Hook," from which Steve sort of distanced himself after they played the song. They closed with a tune by Mungo Jerry, "Alright Alright Alright," with instructions for us to YouTube it after we got home.

The Joggers also from Portland opened. I saw them a few years ago touring with M. Ward; from what I could recall, their sound has filled out somewhat to include harmonies, for example. Maybe their claim to being voted "Tacoma's third-best Three Dog Night cover band" was true after all.

See also:
» too awake to be famous
» done well is so much fucking better
» green typewriters

pre-easily fooled

Once upon a time, my concert reports lived in little notebooks (the print variety), tiny tomes I happened to find a little while ago while tidying the house. The earliest entries are pretty bare; I simply went through my ticket stubs and jotted down any recollections I could muster. But I must've started taking it more seriously around 2003, because that's when the dispatches filled out a bit.

They're not worth reprinting here, but I figured I'd excerpt some of the better passages. Unfortunately, I can't recall the context of some of these comments, so what you see is what you get. Anyway, some highlights from my gig history:

Badly Drawn Boy, Bimbo's 365 Club, November 16, 2000: Three hours of music, including Bruce and Journey covers; cocktail waitresses bringing orders onstage; almost got brained by Damon's mic!; Damon dancing on tables and kicking Bruce detractors--wow!

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, the Fillmore, March 12, 2001: Steve's dad introduced the band as "the Jinx."

Wilco, Town Hall, Sept. 28, 2001: I thought that guy wanted to slap me. [Ed.: Who? What? Why? I have no idea.]

Guided by Voices, Bimbo's 365 Club, August 20, 2003: Bob Pollard: "We're the birdmen of alcohol." [Ed.: That quote alone is worth digging through the notebooks.]

Wilco/Sonic Youth, Summerstage, June 27, 2003: Met Roy and Kurt, two Sonic Youth fans who had taken the bus all the way from Peoria to see their favorite band--very sweet kids.

Beulah, Great American Music Hall, Nov. 6, 2003: The band asked for requests for the encore, then forced whomever yelled the title to come up and play an instrument onstage for that song. I think my favorite participant that night was a guy in a tie, a button-down shirt, and khakis. Miles referred to him as "the accountant."

Rufus Wainwright, the Warfield, December 19, 2003: We were joined by a youngish guy who claimed to be gay but was married to a French woman who needed a green card. He also wore pearls à la Lisa Simpson. He had a package and a message that he wanted to get to Rufus. Long story short: He succeeded. Anyway, he was very funny, with enough drama for a week's worth of All My Children.

More random tidbits
--Shows where I saw Scott Kannberg (Pavement; Preston School of Industry) in the audience: Flaming Lips, Wilco, British Sea Power
--Shows where I fell asleep or very nearly dozed off: Sigur Ros (at the Warfield, not the Fillmore), Godspeed You Black Emperor, Broadcast

Starspotting
--Beth Orton, Ione Skye (Death in Vegas, the Troubador)
--Billy Connolly, Kelly Macdonald (Travis, the Troubador)
--Amanda Decadenet, a.k.a. ex-wife of Duran Duran's John Taylor; I know no one cares, but it was a big deal to us (Supergrass, Bimbo's 365 Club)
--Keri Russell (Wilco, Roseland)
--Hanson, Claudia Mason (one of my favorite '90s supermodels), Bob Odenkirk (Wilco, El Rey)
--Pete Yorn, E from the eels (Wilco, John Anson Ford Amphitheatre)

too awake to be famous

Any year bookended by Stephen Malkmus gigs can't be all bad. Come to think of it, 2007 hasn't been too shabby a concert year at all. Best of all: It's not close to being over yet!

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, Great American Music Hall, December 19, 2007: Last time Steve and the Jicks were in town, he sported an awful mustache. Imagine the relief we felt, then, when he came out before the show to set up his guitars, sporting maybe a day's stubble (and a pair of squared-off wire-rim glasses that could've been ripped straight off Bill Gates's face circa 1988--but that's another story).

Of course, the state of Stephen's facial hair didn't comprise the only difference between the year's two shows. January's gig was a a trial run with new songs but no product to promote. This time, though the concert wasn't specifically tied to a release, some media outlets are already salivating over the arrival of the Jicks' next album, Real Emotional Trash, in March. In case you weren't aware of its impending delivery, the barrage of new songs that the band kicked out might've clued you in.

Though I can't recall the exact order of songs, I remember they opened with "Baby C'mon," and older tracks "Mama" and "Pencil Rot" also made it into the main set. The encore, in turn, would include "Church on White," "Post-Paint Boy," and (after much begging from an audience member) "1% of 1," but the back catalog ended there. The bulk of the setlist, however, hit up the new tracks, two of which I recognized: "Dragonfly Pie" and "Hopscotch Willie." But since my downloading days are mostly over, that's pretty much the extent of my knowledge of the new material. Also, I swear one of the new songs namechecked Richard Avedon repeatedly, but I'm willing to wait until March for the confirmation.



What I couldn't have known when I was an overly trend-conscious twenty-something music fan: That one of the musicians who, for me, defined the '90s American indie sound, in all its jagged, insouciant, and contrary glory, would, in his solo career, favor long, meandering jams seemingly inspired by '70s acid rock. Then again, that era doesn't make me cringe as much as it used to, and quite honestly, I'm willing to give Steve and the Jicks the benefit of the doubt.

For sure, the new songs rocked, undoubtedly abetted by Janet Weiss's presence on the drums. She is, in a word, a badass, and her muscular style marks a huge departure for the Jicks. I'm totally guilty of assuming a band is driven by a single presence, and the Jicks would seem to operate under that umbrella. Obviously, I don't know the band's inner workings, but the collaboration is a lot more prominent this time out. Sure, Stephen is still the leader, and you could see Janet, Joanne, and Mike zeroing in on him for cues, especially during the improvisational jams littered throughout the songs. But Stephen, when he wasn't in a zone with his own contributions, gawked in return, often at something Janet was doing.



For all his years on the road, Stephen remains an atypical frontman, but bless him for the lack of posturing, pandering, and predictability that often comes with the territory. Besides, we like him better as he is. Tonight, that meant he was in a pretty silly mood, as his continual wrasslin' with the sliding mic stand provided the physical comedy, while his repeated harping on Popscene, San Francisco's Britpop club, kept the music snobs (i.e., everyone in the room) giggling.

And lest I forget, Stephen also mentioned his French ex-boyfriend in an effort to get himself off the hook after making some anti-crepes comments. The French DJ team Justice warranted a reference as well. And in a completely different vein, he showed off his semi-local roots with an off-the-cuff composition called "Cupertino Blues" that dropped in references to a bunch of cities in the East Bay, including Hayward and Livermore. However, the song was not, as far as I could tell, a lament about the iPhone.



Blitzen Trapper opened the show, and despite their seasonal name, they didn't bear any Christmas trimmings, either in their stage setup or their songs. Many of their tunes leaned heavily toward country, but at the same time, they sported a pronounced rock edge. At one point, their drummer broke his snare drum. In a flash, Janet Weiss was up on the stage, lending them her snare. Hooray! Overall, they were pretty good and continued the longstanding trend of great bands I've seen opening for Steve and Pavement.

See also:
» done well is so much fucking better
» penny rich & dollar dumb

done well is so much fucking better

Say what you will about arbitrary dates, but there's something about the portents of the new year. I'm hoping that seeing Stephen Malkmus--perhaps my Socratic (if not platonic) ideal of the indie rocker--and the Jicks for my inaugural show of 2007 is a promising sign of great things to come.

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, Bimbo's 365 Club, January 5, 2007: If you've read this blog more than a few times, you've probably noticed that a large degree of the musicians/bands/artists I cover qualify as "must see" performers in my book. What can I say? Besides being prone to sentimentality, I've reached (surpassed?) the point where I'm more likely to spend my limited entertainment dollars on my true favorites instead of putting up with yet another flash in the pan that the teenagers will eventually spoil for me anyway. (Man, I'm going to regret admitting that.)

Pavement, though, enjoys a hallowed spot on my list of all-time faves. They were kind of my indie Beatles; though they certainly weren't the first or the only band I've loved, they sorta set me on the musical path I mostly follow these days. Heck, I even borrowed one of their song titles for the name of this blog. So when Stephen Malkmus comes to town, I'm there.

For all my adulation, I don't turn a completely blind eye. Case in point: I wasn't crazy about the last Jicks show I saw. Though John Moen was hilarious that night, Steve didn't seem particularly engaged, and that remains my overwhelming impression of the gig. Of course, it's not exactly the same band anymore, now that John has joined the Decemberists and Janet Weiss (formerly of Sleater-Kinney) has stepped in to replace him.

In fact, I think I'm going to have to get used to the fact that there's now more than one indie legend in the band and that she has her own adoring fanbase. Actually, Janet's devotees might be a little more rabid at this point, as Sleater-Kinney's run was recent enough that most of their fans got to see them in concert. Judging from conversations overheard at Jicks shows, I'd guess that a lot of the Stephen's current fans were too young to have seen Pavement. As it turns out, I'm just the girl to gloat that I have. (Man, I'm going to regret admitting that.)

I was never a Sleater-Kinney fan, though I saw them in concert a couple of times. But you don't need to be a fan to know that Janet Weiss is a powerhouse on the drums, and her effect on the Jicks' sound was evident from the first note. Watching John Moen, even at his most intense, I could never shake the idea that he could step out midbeat and dance a little jig--not so with Janet. She was forceful, steady, and all those things that a drummer is supposed to be, and though she wasn't as playful as John (is anyone?), she joined in the festivities with rim shots and asides to Joanna, Mike, and Stephen. She truly anchored the heavier songs, and at times, hints of Led Zeppelin came through--something I've never heard from the Jicks before. She definitely passed the audition.

Oh yes, the man of the hour, Stephen Malkmus, my alpha indie rocker and forever my fantasy of the hot TA that you totally want to catch in office hours. (Man, I'm going to regret admitting that.) Since I've already embarrassed myself with too much attention to physical attributes, I'll damn myself a little further by reporting that there was some 'stache sportage. Oy. And his plaid boxers stuck out between his trousers and his polo shirt for much of the show. But the chiseled profile is intact. OK, enough of that.

The set was about evenly divided between old favorites and brand-spanking-new songs. I would love to offer some catchphrase to sum up the new songs, but I don't think any single statement applies. At first, I thought they might be poppier than the last album, but as the show progressed, we heard a lot of the longer, psychedelic jams that seem to pop up quite often on Jicks records. In short, they were all over the place. I'm just going to wait to hear them in their final form before I pass judgement.

The old songs saw some inspired Malkmus twists, none more revelatory than a breezy, irresistible version of "The Hook." The version we heard tonight was so striking that I pressed Julie for a description of the song, and she suggested that it sounded almost like a '70s country rock hit, which was somewhat in line with my idea that Steve reminded me of middle-period Dylan on it (a pretty ridiculous statement coming for a Dylan dunce like myself). Regardless, it was cool. Later, we also got the band's attempt at "I Nearly Lost You" by Screaming Trees in response to a challenge by Joanna.

Stephen was in good spirits, with his typical successive non-sequiturs and supremely laid-back manner. The topics of discussion tonight included James Joyce, the Gettys, the SF MOMA and its current exhibits, sports (of course), and his facial hair. Stephen and Joanna are obviously the core of the group, now that John's gone, and she gave him hell as needed. In the intimate confines of Bimbo's, there was more banter with the audience than I recall from previous shows, and that's always a treat. Mostly, though, I was glad to see/hear that Stephen continues to follow his muse, wherever it may lead him and us.

The opener was a one-woman band called St. Vincent from Austin, Texas. She looked a tiny bit like Winona Ryder, and she switched between electric guitar and an old Rhodes keyboard. In lieu of a rhythm section, she stomped on what looked like an amplified wooden panel that sort of filled in for a bass drum. Her sound was fairly eclectic, and though I thought we might be in for another sensitive girl singer/songwriter, she quickly proved she had a sense of humor and knew how to use it.

See also:
» penny rich & dollar dumb

penny rich & dollar dumb

Whoa, I have a lot of ground to cover this time. Another big update to follow.

Aqualung, Great American Music Hall, June 6, 2005: I asked Lila if she wanted to go this show, as I figured it was right up her alley in terms of wimpy British music, but she didn't come. Granted, she might have been a little tired from her four-month Glasgow adventure, but I didn't sell the band too hard. I still think she would've liked it, but maybe she'll realize it later.

The opener was a guy named Cary Brothers--well, him and another guy on guitar, but the guitarist stated early on that they were not brothers. He too understood how confusing his name could be and commented on that early in the set. He played very earnest folky stuff, and he sounded pretty good. He seemed an odd match with Aqualung, but the guys from Aqualung joined him for his last song, so there must've been some connection.

I've heard a few Aqualung songs on KEXP, and I liked them, though I haven't run out to buy the albums. They've come to San Francisco a number of times now, but I've always had other plans, so this was my first chance to check them out. Overall, the show was OK. The faster songs were pretty good, but the quieter songs were precipitously wimpy. The main guy, Matt Hales, talked a lot between songs, but he never raised his voice above a mellow whisper--not exactly filling the room and almost encouraging me to fall asleep on my feet. One woman yelled out a request for a song he had written about the Castro last time they were in town playing the Swedish American Hall. Instead, he asked what neighborhood we were in and responded with a song about the Tenderloin, rhyming "meat" and "meet" in the process.

I hate lazy music journalism and the need to lump bands in with one another, but even as I took in the show, I realized how easy it would be to group Aqualung in with the current batch of post-Coldplay bands getting much more attention they deserve--Keane being the most disturbing example. I'm old enough to remember, for example, the supposed post-Oasis flurry of UK guitar bands and how bad they were, not to mention their overwhelming commercial thud in the United States. I'm reluctant to join the knee-jerk reaction of filing them in the same category, but then again, I can hear the similarities too.

Wilco, Greek Theatre (Berkeley), June 11, 2005: It was as much a surprise to me as anyone that Wilco was coming back to California, much less the Bay Area, so soon and in so big a venue, but who am I to refuse when they're playing my former campus? It's yet another testament to my dementia that I willingly chose to see them in a amphitheater I have skipped many, many times in the last few years, even when bands I like have played there.

We had a good group of people at the show, including a visit from the Canadian branch of our sect, and I was so happy to see that we could welcome them to our fair city while the sun was shining and the birds were singing. It was a warm day by Bay Area standards, and I'm sure all of us got a nice glow from sitting out in the sun, waiting for the gates to open. I love Berkeley in the summertime, and we managed to squeeze in a trip to Caffe Intermezzo and the original Amoeba.

I was absolutely delighted to hear "Misunderstood" as the opener, just because I was back in my old neighborhood. Other highlights include "Sunken Treasure," which is the perfect song when you want those gorgeous, lonesome notes to hang in the lovely summer night air; and "Just a Kid," which was the first time I've heard a proper full-band version of the song. Jeff was in an incredibly goofy mood and started yakking from the get go, barely letting up through the course of the gig. Not surprisingly, he flubbed the lyrics to "Shot in the Arm," but in a completely unexpected move, he missed the first line from "Sunken Treasure," as well. Also, Nels was in a great mood, smiling and laughing quite a bit throughout the show. Because of the height of the stage, I could barely see Glenn or Mike. At the very end, after "Heavy Metal Drummer," Nels stood by, looking at Jeff and holding his guitar lead held out expectantly, ready to break into another song. Though we had 15 minutes left before curfew, they cut the gig short and left the stage. Ah well, I had a good time, and as a bonus, I got to show off my old campus.

Wilco, Greek Theater (Los Angeles), June 14, 2005: In recent years, I've been surprised at how much I really dig Los Angeles. As a Northern Californian, you're practically required to hate LA, but I've seen a lot of good shows there not spoiled by the supposedly jaded and self-serving crowd. Sometimes, it makes me think that our NoCal reserve is an embarrassment. I was hoping that by the end of this trip, Maudie and Paul would feel the same.

We got to the Greek Theater at a ridiculous time and, with nothing else to do, sunned and took in the gorgeous surroundings. Griffith Park is a huge, woodsy area slightly up the hill. I believe you can hike up to the Hollywood sign via one of the paths; however, according to the posted warning signs, you need to be careful of mountain lions and rattlesnakes. Eeek! I couldn't get over how gorgeous the weather has been lately. The Bay Area was warmer than I expected, and LA was cooler--both hitting the perfect equilibrium. I have no complaints on either end.

I had told my pals that, according to some old videos I've seen, the pit area is very, very close to the stage, and we would have a great vantage point. When they finally let us in, my prediction turned out to be exactly right. The pit was tiny, you needed to have your ticket stub and a staff-issued wristband to get in, there was no barrier at the front, and the stage was only waist high. We soon realized that despite the size of the venue, this was the most intimate GA gig we had seen in a long time. Yeehaw!

The Roots came on first, around 7:30. They were ostensibly the main reason I had chosen to hit this gig. I really wanted to check them out, and a double bill seemed like the perfect solution. They put on a great, energetic show, but the Greek was, at most, 1/3 full. We appreciated their set, but I can't say the same about many of our neighbors. I'd really like to see them with a crowd of their fans, someday. We had a great view of ?estlove, who called out musical cues to the rest of the band. The MC called him the "maestro," and there was no arguing with that. Also, Vernon Reid, formerly of Living Colour, joined them on guitar, and he was every bit as smoking as I remembered. It was a pleasure and a privilege to check them out.

I don't go into shows with expectations about what I want to hear and what the band is required to play. There are some songs I don't like, there are many songs I've heard countless times, and there are sometimes those transcendent experiences. But regardless, I try to take home a memory or two that is unique to that one show, whether it's an ad-lib, a different course of guitar noodling, or crowd interaction, and I believe that Wilco is still capable of that, regardless of the number of times I've seen them live. For this show, it had to do with the undeniably family-friendly atmosphere. Jeff dedicated "Remember the Mountain Bed" to Nels's mom because [paraphrased] she's his hero and to Nels, because he's the band's hero. Nels, ever so elegant, acknowledged the applause and did his usual amazing work on the steel pedal. Later in the show, you could see Jeff staring out into a specific point in the audience. He told the crowd that he could see that his five-year-old was asleep and apologized for what he had to do next, which went against all his instincts as a parent. With that, he launched into the scorching intro to "I'm the Man Who Loves You."

For the "second" encore, during "Hummingbird," Jeff jumped off the stage and into the pit, where his family had been watching the show. He took Sam from Susan's arms and danced around with him, kissing his forehead, and holding him gently. The whole family, along with their friends and extended family, danced as well. With some effort, Jeff came back onstage at the end of the song, but by then, Susan, the boys, and their crew had made their way to the front of the stage. Susan let Sam sit on the edge of the stage, and he looked very much like he had just been awoken from a sound sleep. Jeff commented that Family Services would be along soon, and those of us up front can verify that it was incredibly loud at the edge. Jeff pretty much played to them for the rest of the show, and at the end, he scooped Sam up in his arms and took him backstage, with Spencer trotting after them.

And once again, I stand by my conviction that LA can be a great place to catch a show.

Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks, the Fillmore, June 15, 2005: I was back on the first flight out of LA, spent about 10 hours in the office, managed to squeeze in a 30-minute power nap at home, then off to the Fillmore to catch Steve Malkmus and the Jicks. Cuong decided to join me tonight--totally weird but always welcome. Can you believe it was his first time at the Fillmore ever? Who are these people, and how are they related to me???

Martha Wainwright opened, this time with a full band. She seemed slightly out of it, but I quite like her, though I have yet to buy any of her music. It's funny how "Bloodymotherfuckingasshole" sneaks up on you. You think you're listening to some soothing folksy ballad, then you realize she's cursing up a storm. I wish her the best of luck. It's probably not easy trying to get a piece of the spotlight when you're in such illustrious family company.

I was so happy to see that the Jicks are intact. I thought that maybe they had lost John Moen for good after he signed up with the Decemberists, but it turns out that he was on the hook for only a temp assignment. They opened with "Jenny and the Ess-Dog," everyone's favorite. Obviously, there was a huge emphasis on the new album tracks, and the record has grown on me over the last few weeks, due in no small part to Cuong's appreciation of it. Even the Pig Lib songs sounded good. Steve started out sounding like his usual laconic self, but by the end of the show, I couldn't decide if he was stoned or drunk. I was delighted to see John take the mike and the guitar (while Steve played drums) for one of his own songs, though I think he admonished someone for being asleep during his turn at the front. He's a good foil for Steve, though there's no denying who runs the show. I came away thinking that Steve is a really cool guitar player, and his vocals have improved drastically over the years. Perhaps the tension that helped make Pavement so great to see isn't there anymore, but that's not a fair comparison, is it?

Whenever I see the Jicks or PSOI, I always wonder if this is how the old Uncle Tupelo fans feel about the split, that no matter how either player continues to evolve, it won't ever be the same as the original. I'll buy Malkmus and Kannberg CDs as long as they continue to release them, and I don't want to rain on any of the new fans' parades, but man, if they only knew the glory of Pavement when they were still around.