you must remember this

In case you're wondering, I didn't give up Largo for Lent. In fact, I don't even really know what Lent is, but it makes for a more colorful culprit for the recent dearth of Jon Brion shows than the usual *yawn* constraints of time, economy, and distance.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, May 15, 2009: A little past the Blockbuster parking lot, I realized I was smiling to myself for no reason other than the fact that I was about to see my first Jon Brion show in more than two months (not including that cameo at the last Rawlings Machine gig). It felt good to be back.

In the grand scheme of things, I hadn't been gone that long, but in the interim, some serious new equipment joined the stage setup. Jon's collection of gear, already a formidable mass, now encompassed a small multimedia lab, including the following:

• A roll-up movie screen planted toward the back of the stage, directly to the right of the piano


• A small monitor mirroring the larger viewing surface hanging from the piano itself


• A projector at the front foot of the stage


• A video mixer atop the celeste

Granted, I didn't recognize much of this at first sight, and it took a little while before Jon worked them into his set. There was the matter of the opening "Werewolves of London," called off because it reminded him too much of Kid Rock, followed by a lengthy instrumental piano that returned us to more familiar ground. I picked out maybe three movements, if you want to call them that, and perhaps a touch of the Punch-Drunk Love theme. A string of originals ensued, including an exceptional "Why Do You Do This to Yourself," the typically straightforward, country-style treatment replaced by rich, sonorous waves.

Sometimes you watch Jon Brion in action and you think to yourself, "He can't do that, can he?" Then it becomes apparent that he can, and he can do it well. We probably shouldn't have been surprised that Jon would use the video equipment to draw out loops and samples to play against, but I don't think any of us could've predicted some of the more charming results.

For starters, he cued up an old-time clip of a Latin band, fashioned a rhythm, and added piano, celeste, and mellotron, culminating in an instrumental version of "Lithium." This same mini movie provided the raw material for a subtle segue into "More Than This." Jon's equanimous vocals, coupled with a swaying calypso-style beat, were hypnotic, even as the Video Toaster-type effects applied to the flick, such as color shifts and a psychedelic repetition of the image, took the opposite tack.

He repeated this feat later in the set using footage of an Iron Butterfly TV appearance grafted to a '40s-era film of two women singing what sounded like a traditional tune. I feel like I should know at least one of the songs, but I couldn't give you a title even if I wanted to. From the former, he spliced the percussion, sprinkled some MicroKORG, and surfaced with his own "Meaningless." Throw in some piano, celeste, one or two more keys-based instruments, and that eerie a cappella performance, and you get the Bacharach/David classic "I'll Never Fall in Love Again."

Between these two superlooping exercises, Jon also produced a more traditional score, playing along to a black-and-white Felix the Cat cartoon. I remember talk of Jon providing live accompaniment for films and other performances when Largo at the Coronet first opened. I also know that he has, indeed, carried it off (for example, with the Paul Thomas Anderson plays last year). Perhaps this is the next step in that direction.

Of course, there was plenty of non-video-based music to fill out the night, much of it culled from audience suggestions. For once, I can say I enjoyed every request granted. I'm happy to say I got in the first request of the night--"Rockit"--though the vibes were Jon's choice. After extricating himself from an unexpected detour through "Axel F," Jon worked out the details admirably, going to town on just about every surface of the instrument, down to the pipes. I'm going to say it was a hit among the audience, but Jon may not have agreed, judging by the fact that he gave the instrument the finger before switching to guitar.

"As Time Goes By" sounded wonderfully natural, warm, and intimate on acoustic guitar, as did Jon's own "Further Along." The latter's initially spare treatment eventually gave way to a full build that peaked on electric guitar--but not before we enjoyed the spectacle of watching Jon simultaneously (albeit briefly) playing harmonica, acoustic guitar, and drums.

You could file several of the evening's selections under "Odd Juxtapositions Unless You've Seen a Show at Largo." To wit: The calls for David Bowie and the Monkees resulted in "Daydream Believer" sung to the tune of "Moonage Daydream" and Jon's quip that they're both by singers named Davy Jones. "Here We Go" closed out on a nod to "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy," and "Under Pressure" galloped out in Les Paul style, even if Jon admitted some trepidation at the outset.

I can't recall if I've documented my "When Doves Cry" request history on this blog, but I'll assume I've already driven that story into the ground. The point is that I don't request it anymore, but I never mind when someone else does. For the first time in a while, Jon took it up for the final song of the evening.

There's a recording of a show from 2005 in New York City when Jon carries off a legendary version of "When Doves Cry." I wasn't there, but the story goes that he soldiered through with a broken guitar, the audience's eager support, and little else. This was not the version we heard tonight.

In place of the song's spare, cool signature, Jon fashioned a woozy, frenetic take. Over a slightly off-kilter foundation of piano, he lavished a generous helping of percussion, manipulating the piano hammers as he often does with his own "Same Thing" and throwing in a smattering of well-timed tambourine. The guy behind me (I think he also requested the song) tried hard to sing along, but Jon's use of the vocoder put a damper on those plans.

On guitar, though, Jon could've given the Artist a run for the money. Those heavy chords and the fierce feedback pretty much told me that Jon meant to close the night for real--there'd be no way to top this baby, thanks in part to the White Stripes quotes (for the second time this evening; he snuck it into the Felix score as well), among others.

It had been too long, Largo. I won't let this happen again.

Setlist
--Werewolves of London
--instrumental
--Someone Else's Problem Now
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Over Our Heads
--Get Over Yourself
--Lithium/More Than This
--Same Mistakes
--Axel F/Rockit
--As Time Goes By
--Further Along
--"Felix and random"
--new song?
--Please Stay Away from Me
--Moonage Daydream/Daydream Believer
--I Want You to Want Me/Electric Avenue
--Meaningless
--I'll Never Fall in Love Again

encore 1
--Here We Go
--Under Pressure

encore 2
--When Doves Cry

See also:
» wish you were here
» when you gonna live your life right

get out of my cupboards

Buttercream is a bitch--and it kept me grounded the other night when I had provisionally planned on seeing a show. Who am I kidding, though? How often do I get to gigs anymore that don't owe some ties to that one band or that other place? Sara Watkins, of course, qualifies for the latter category, and that was enough to bring me out for her visit to the Swedish American Hall.

Sara Watkins, Swedish American Hall, May 12, 2009: I'm embarrassed to admit the internal debate that preceded my decision to attend this concert, so I'll pass the speaking banana to Liz Lemon: "I just want to go home and watch the show about midgets and eat a block of cheddar cheese." (Or, more specifically, Mad Men DVD commentaries and/or the Celtics game, coupled with that last strawberry cupcake.)



Sara Watkins has become a familiar presence on my concert calendar, whether presenting the Watkins Family Hour with her brother, dropping in on friends' shows at Largo, or touring with Nickel Creek. Her former band enjoyed a good number of dedicated fans; I wouldn't count myself among them, but I find her voice just so pretty.

Those lovely vocals were somewhat muted tonight, however, by a cold that left her struggling for some higher notes. Regardless, she soldiered on, fulfilling at least one audience request. Also, though I wouldn't say her battered throat took away from the show, it didn't hurt that she was flanked by her brother Sean Watkins on guitar and Benmont Tench on the baby grand.



Her song selection closely echoed her album's track list, and she threw in a few more covers, as well as an old Nickel Creek track. My hours logged at Largo have familiarized me with her Morrissey cover ("The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get"), as well as the extra Jon Brion track, but hearing them outside of that wonderful little bubble gave me a thrill too.



For starters, I may have been too caught up in nudges and winks that other time I heard them take on Morrissey to fully appreciate what they brought to the song--namely, Sean's accomplished solo and Sara's soulful fiddle. And "Trouble" was worth the time, if only to hear Benmont admit the song gives him, er, trouble. Don't let his protests fool you, though; Benmont's playing was as masterful as ever. Sean, too, took the spotlight for one song, a new track titled "Reality Calls," appended by some parenthetical I can't recall. (This is clearly shaping up to be a parenthetical year.)

Speaking of Jon Brion, the crew namechecked him several times, not least because they covered two of his tunes. I think a couple of other people in the audience reacted to his name, but in San Francisco, I'll take that--at least until Jon plays here in July. They extended some shout-outs to Largo, as well, and Sara shared a sweet story about playing "Anthony" right after she wrote it on Flanny's voicemail, which has now become a tradition for her.

Largo, for better or for worse, is not the real world. Of course, I love the monastic silence, but sometimes you gotta turn it up a notch. Even in the Swedish American Hall's ascetic space, crucial differences emerged. For one thing, there were no guest cameos, so we saw Sara, Sean, and Benmont pure and simple. Also, this cozier space allowed for more audience interaction. And finally, we came through loud and clear when Sara asked us to kick in for the chorus of "Long Hot Summer Day." Gillian Welch was right--we aren't a bad bunch of singers.

The trio closed out the show with an audience request for "Forever Young," despite Sara's acknowledgment of the toll it would take on her voice. She needn't worry, though; she belted out this perfect closer. Besides, even with a frog in her throat, she still sounds better than Dylan. ;)

See also:
» all this time
» cortez, cortez
» there's so much here to see

milky pristine

It's not lost on me that I've traveled, in essence, two paths for concerts so far this year. It's only going to get worse, I warn you, but if that's not a problem, then tune in for the Mikael Jorgensen/Pronto review below--not to mention all those yet to come.

Mikael Jorgensen, Make-Out Room, April 30, 2009: Depending on your outlook, Wilco either makes it easy to be a fan or they give us hell. The constant touring, the numerous side projects, the endless collaborations, the solo turns--you can go crazy (and poor) chasing down every note of music that these off-shoots put out, or the hobby can keep you occupied for a long time. Or both.

There's little doubt I lean more toward the second option, but sometimes, being that overly eager fan is easy, especially when the most difficult part of an otherwise laid-back night with friends is enduring the opening act. Then again, that first act was probably more amusing than arduous. Seriously, how did his hat stay on?

Most people probably know Mike in only his role as Wilco's keyboardist and erstwhile "laptop guy," but it was more than a year ago--maybe even two?--on a trip to Chicago that Kris handed out CD-Rs of the Pronto record off a spool; I believe he called them "party favors." I've been looking forward to hearing the songs in a live setting ever since. It took a while, but Mike finally made it out to the West Coast to support those tunes himself.

Even if you know Pronto's music, it's worth it to hear Mike break it down further. Tonight, on his own, he took the album's warm, vintage-y vibe and translated it to solo acoustic guitar. I suppose it wouldn't be too surprising if I told you that the riffs came through loud and clear in this setting, showing off some unexpectedly rawk touches. Another nice touch was Mike's confident air; he held his own in the buzzing bar, even managing to warn us about the other band named Pronto on iTunes.



It looks like it's going to be a busy year for Mike, what with Wilco getting ready to launch a new album in the next month or so. Who knows when Pronto will be around again? I'm willing to find out what the future holds for them, though.

See also:
» i see my light come shining
» spider wisdom
» with songs about things we all know