less a deluge than a drought

Happy Father's Day!

Aimee Mann/Seu Jorge, Stern Grove, June 19, 2006: It's a joke (I hope) among my family and friends that I operate on full throttle when it comes to shows, but that's not entirely true. Granted, my more zealous episodes are well documented, but I occasionally show up at a venue right right when the band comes on. Or I misfire and am overwhelmed by throngs who arrived much earlier than me. And sometimes, I throw in the towel and sit out a show altogether.

That was the case Saturday night, when I skipped the Aimee Mann gig in the North Bay, thanks to a foot injury I can blame on only personal ineptitude. But I knew Aimee would be in San Francisco for a free show on Sunday, so I opted for the more local appointment and the podiatric relief, though I knew I'd be trading in the intimacy and comfort of a small club. Them's the breaks.

Fast-forward to Sunday morning, when I drove over to Stern Grove on an uncharacteristally sunny day right after fulfilling my duties at the Fillmore box office. I've seen Aimee in San Francisco in the past, and it's always been totally mellow. I figured if I could get to the Grove by noon, I'd be OK.

Boy, was I wrong. At 11, just about every nook and cranny of the lower grove was occupied, though I managed to find a tiny spot for myself. I overheard the woman behind me saying that she had arrived at 8 a.m. It worked out fine, though. They opened up some of the benches in the front, and I was able to get a decent seat for the actual show.

Stern Grove's concert schedule had been announced months ago, so it was a happy accident that Seu Jorge and his band were welcomed by flocks of sexy Brazilians (and those who aspire to be such) decked out in the familiar green and yellow and celebrating the beautiful weather and their home team's World Cup victory that morning. We all danced along to the slinky, seductive rhythms, and I could hear plenty of voices singing along to the more famous songs. Alas, he didn't do any Ziggy Stardust tunes, but I respect him for not giving in to the easy hook. His band was fun-loving and energetic, performing various feats of tambourine. I couldn't help but wonder how Aimee's introspective, finely wrought tales of crushed hopes, abject failure, and crippling delusions would go over with this party crowd.

A couple of months ago, I saw the best Aimee Mann show I've had the good fortune to witness. As it turned out, her appearance at Largo was a warm-up for her summer tour, and this show was the road version of it. That is, start with the Largo show, then strip away the intimacy, the respect, the interaction, and Flanagan's hair. Voilà--you have the Stern Grove appearance!

OK, maybe that's too harsh. Free gigs are notorious for apathy and opportunism on both sides of the stage, especially if you're a fan who wants to hear a full set of music. Aimee and gang put in a solid effort, even as the crowds streamed out and/or talked over the music. It was certainly no contest for my ringside seat from April, though I made it all the way to the front by the halfway point of the set. We got the solo acoustic "It's Not Safe" again, as well as "One," which I hadn't heard before. We also saw Aimee on the baby grand for "Nothing's Good Enough," and she celebrated her victorious turn on the keys by triumphantly throwing her arms in the air.

If impending unemployment weren't part of my near future, I'd consider catching Aimee in another town on this tour, just so that I wouldn't have to think back on this show as my last view of her. But I won't be doing that--at least, unless she comes back to Largo. Them's the breaks, indeed.

See also:
» i'm the stuff of happy endings
» you're my favorite faith healer
» the Book of Brion 2 has landed

just keep counting the stars

I'm nothing if not efficient, so barring extenuating circumstances, one trip to Los Angeles usually equals two trips to Largo. There was no reason this weekend should be any different.

Nels Cline solo and not, Largo, June 3, 2006: This show was originally slated to be the fifth installment of Nels Cline/Jon Brion improvisational series, but Jon's tendinitis altered those plans. Still, I never doubted that I'd make it to the gig.

As expected, Bobb Bruno kicked off the proceedings, and the stuffed animals were back (yay!). His set was really cool, once again featuring samples and other electronic sounds. It was a mellow, transcendent set, and besides, you can't beat a guy in a huge bunny head.

Back in November 2004, before I got this blog on track, I embarked on one of my favorite rock tourism runs of all time, catching seven consecutive Wilco shows between Portland, Oregon, and Tempe, Arizona. (It helped that three shows were in the Bay Area and two more were in Los Angeles.) Even better, we managed to cram one Wilco book signing and one Jon Brion show into the few idle moments!

That trip is memorable for many reasons, and I even wrote up a report on one of the two highlights: catching Glenn Kotche accompanying Jon Brion at Largo. The other highlight was meeting Jon Brion backstage at the Wilco's first night at the Wiltern, thanks to Sooz's mysterious and persuasive ways. I don't usually get nervous around musicians, but I was pretty much out of my mind with joy at that moment. In fact, I still think I look certifiably crazed in photos from that night.

I bring this up not to drop names but to emphasize the turn of events and to shed some light on how I felt when, after Bobb's set, Heidi and I spied a lanky, chapeau'd figure back by the bar. It was too good to believe, but we weren't mistaken. It was Jon fucking Brion in all his glory. How we managed to not dance on the table at that precise moment, I have no idea, but we held it together (barely), racing heartbeats, manic joy, and all.

I think it was Heidi who introduced the concept of setlist zen, of living in the moment and letting events and/or song selections work themselves out. It was in that spirit that we approached this gig, even if we couldn't admit that we invested all the aspirations that our guarded yet rose-colored outlook would allow into the "and not" billing. But still, what were the odds? Apparently, they were great.

Nels came on shortly afterward and rolled out a fairly lengthy introduction, explaining the circumstances that led to the evening's agenda. He mentioned Jon's ailment and said that Flanagan and Jon had pressured him into proceeding with the show. In his charmingly self-deprecating style, he warned us of his upcoming intentions to sing. He also claimed that the "lovelorn ballads" and "existential angst" we were about to hear had no reflection on his current emotional state. (Say what you will about Nels Cline, but I get the idea he's not that good a liar.) He also built up our expectations, promising a second set comprising entirely Neil Young songs, with the strong possibility of guest vocals by Jon fucking Brion.

I admit to some trepidation over the thought of a Nels Cline solo show, but this was unlike anything I've heard from him. For one thing, he sang. And in contrast to his shows opening for Jeff Tweedy, he opted for more conventional songs, though he put them through their paces. I didn't take notes during this portion, but I can report that he looped, tweaked, thrashed, and strummed in his signature style, even with the surprising choice of covers. I could see Low and Sonic Youth in his record collection but the Mamas and the Papas and Joan Jett (in a manner reminiscent of Iggy Pop and/or Tom Waits, no less)? Color me impressed. His voice worked better on some numbers than others--he sounded pretty good on the Low song, for example--but I love his fearlessness all the same. From my seat, I spied Jon fucking Brion watching the entire set from the side of the room.

During the short break, the band Mad Cow (a tribute to Crazy Horse) set up, and Nels once again took the mic: first, declaring his love of Neil Young, then singing the initial song, "Hippie Dream." For the second song, David Garza took over most of the vocals, while Jeff Gauthier of Cryptogramophone added violin and Nels contributed backing vocals. For the third selection, it was just David again, then came the moment Heidi and I had been waiting for: Jon fucking Brion took the stage. He traded vocals with David for the rest of the set, and that was enough for our table. And we were hardly alone in our celebration. I could see Flanagan whooping it up during "Walk On."

Throughout the set, Nels offered comments on each song's place in the Neil Young discography and his reasons for choosing it. And much later in the set, when he saw that we were still listening, he said apropos of nothing, "You guys are cool." If I could, I'd assure him the feelings were mutual.

In no way was this a Jon Brion show, though in keeping with the spirit of his gigs, he obviously hadn't rehearsed. All he did was sing, though we both noticed his stricken hand subtly miming some chords on one song. In fact, he used lyric sheets--not a common occurrence--and David had to prompt him a couple of times. We'll take it regardless; Largo is not the same without him.

Set 1 (Nels Cline solo)
Look Through My Window [Mamas & Papas]
Tom Violence [Sonic Youth]
I Hate Myself for Loving You [Joan Jett]
I Got No Answers [Joan Jett]
Little Argument with Myself [Low]

Set 2 (and not)
featuring Mad Cow, the backing band
Hippie Dream
Running Dry (Requiem for the Rockets)*
Don't Cry **
On the Beach ***
Walk On ***
Fucking Up ***

* = with David Garza and Jeff Gauthier
** = with David Garza
*** = with David Garza and JON FUCKING BRION

After the show, we were able to say hi to Nels, who, as usual, looked completely shocked to see us. It's amazing how little he takes for granted. And as a topper, we were able to ask Jon a couple of questions. Apparently, his arm is getting better, though it's still not there. However, he assured us that he would be ready for the Intonation Festival, which is all we wanted to hear anyway.

If I may step out of Girl Reporter mode for a second, I want to say that this weekend proved why Largo is so special, even without the Jon Brion factor (though that always helps). We saw some incredibly creative people doing their thing in their own way, and even better, there's an audience for it. I'm so glad to be able to witness it. For the last year or so, I've been sheepishly rationalizing my many visits to Los Angeles, but I don't think I'll do that anymore. Largo is the coolest place in the world, and I'll be back--without apologies--as many times as I can.

See also:
» and when you touch down
» mask

the heart of rock 'n' roll is still beating

Before I start, I want to throw out huge props to Heidi for coming all the way to Los Angeles just for the hell of it, regardless of our MIA RSBF. It wouldn't have been the same without her!

Zach Galifianakis Is Real People, Largo, June 2, 2006: As this is a concert blog, I hadn't originally intended to write about this show, but Zach had musical guests, in the form of David Garza and Fiona Apple, join him. Their contribution was rather short, to tell you the truth. They started with David on guitar for a few of Fiona's standards: "Paper Moon," "You Belong to Me," and "Extraordinary Machine," and David finished up their initial set with a reworked "Electric Avenue." Later in the show, David provided musical accompaniment for a few songs, and Zach commanded Fiona back to the stage for one more. In her typical manner, she looked like she had no idea what to do until David kicked off "Rainbow Connection."

Although the musical section was probably intended as the surprise treat to the Largo faithful, Zach was by far the best part of the show. Three comics preceded him, and though they were funny in parts, he clearly outshone them all. I hate trying to describe comedy--if there's a funny way of saying things, odds are the comic has said it--so I'll just comment that he was hilarious all around, from his characters to his ad-libs to his traditional jokes and setups. Oh, if you like details, he pulled a couple of people off the street and made them part of the show, had a troubadour-style friend who sang and/or embellished his jokes, turned over a large part of the show to a woman who had come from Portland, Oregon, to interview him, and came up with the best use of Huey Lewis and the News' "Heart of Rock and Roll" that I can ever hope to witness. And based on my limited exposure, he repeated only a few jokes.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that this was my first Friday gig at Largo for someone who wasn't Jon Brion. Although Jon's absence was palpable, I was glad to see that Largo is still going on, though in a slightly different capacity.

And I can't end this without including a quote from before the show. As we were waiting by the door, we overheard a group of people going in. One of the women said, "Those were my old boobs. These are my new boobs." (I had to check with Heidi to make sure we didn't make this up.) I love LA!


See also:
» top 5 Largo memories
» that ain't working, that's the way you do it
» there was no way of knowing