lost inside adorable illusion

You know the drill by now: If I'm at Largo on a Thursday (or a Saturday--heck, or a Sunday), I'm also going to be there on Friday for Jon Brion's gig. You can set your clock by it.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, July 17, 2009: First things first: Jon didn't wear exactly the same outfit on Friday as he had on Thursday. In fact, we'd see a costume change before the end of the night, but I'll get to that eventually.

Jon started off with what he ironically deemed a "whiz-bang opener," but following that, he launched into a block of originals, including what sounded like a new song on electric guitar. Along the way, he piled the percussion on "Happy with You," and made liberal use of the whammy bar for "Girl I Knew." "Here We Go," though, was the treasure; Jon changed up the bridge, the additional notes subtly recasting the song and nudging it off its waltz-time foundation.

I've attempted to describe Jon's audio/video forays in earlier posts, but I suspect my accounts have raised more questions than they've answered. This time, I can be clear: He owned it tonight, layering footage of a Latin band, sprinkling in video of a sax player, and working his own magic to emerge with--ta da!--"More Than This." Let the swooning commence.

The requests commenced with a somewhat obscure Aztec Camera track, but it took a while before Jon figured out what else he wanted to tackle. The mashup that ensued got off to an inauspicious start with a Cat Stevens tune, but I don't think anyone expected Jon to land on "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" not once but twice--that second time under the cloak of "Strawberry Fields."

In an unusual move--and one he apologized for--Jon wanted to make up for the previous week's rendition of "Shine On You Crazy Diamond." I don't know what the earlier performance entailed, but this night, it required a music stand, lyrics sheets, and the vibes. No do-overs were needed this time.

Then it was back to the videotape. Essentially, in support of footage of an old Creole fiddle player, Jon cued up a performance of Ravi Shankar and added some accents, such as echo and diffusion effects, as well as his own instrumentation. In other words, it was his one-man band conceit, further amplified. Jon would also splice in video of a guitar lesson and '50s-era singers before the song, and the main set, ended.

I was under the impression that Jon no longer performed encores, but I was wrong--and glad for it. When Jon asked if "Michel" was still around, Evonne and I gaped. Yes, "Michel" was Michel Gondry, the film director, former rock drummer, and Jon's occasional collaborator. It was Evonne's first time seeing Michel Gondry at Largo and only my second time, but neither of us would've complained if it had been the hundredth occasion.

Jon prompted Michel to start it up, and I swear the first beat he threw out was the groove from Doves' "Compulsion"--which, in turn, always reminds me of Blondie's "Rapture." Jon accompanied him on guitar and eventually took up the vocals. They first landed on "White Lines," but Jon wisely chose not to mimic the rap, and I loved hearing "Heart of Glass," even with Jon's made-up lyrics replacing the forgotten words. By now, Jon had taken the lead, with Michel not missing a beat (no pun intended) and riding through a variety of styles before the end of the set.

But we had yet to reach the end of the night. In the Little Room, we filled the front row, taking the equivalents of tables 21 and 40 (sorry, Evonne and Daniella) on Fairfax. Jon wasted no time in asking Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings to join him. The three of them formed something like a songwriters' circle; it could've been our proximity, but the intimacy was unmatched, and it was amazing to watch their silent communication so close up.

Gillian confessed that she'd seen less of Jon's show than she wanted, but Jon urged her to do whatever she felt like. Gill's warning of a "wicked old-timey" selection didn't deter Jon, and he accompanied them on the tragic tale.

For the most part, Gillian and David helmed this set, with Gillian assuming the duties for the first half, David for the conclusion, and Jon stepping up for one song in between. Jon's familiarity with Gillian and David's songs was evident, as he added harmonies and even offered a couple of suggestions. They also urged Jon to the piano when Largo's other favorite piano player didn't materialize. Along the same lines, it was great to hear Gillian supplying harmonies to "My Baby Left Me."

I got in a request for Robyn Hitchcock, despite David and Gillian's trepidation over the high notes. An audience member using a silly voice asked for the last song of the night, "Sweet Tooth," thus marking the end of David and Gillian's July residency. I doubt that this will be the last we see of them; I just hope they return soon.

Set 1
--piano
--Happy with You
--Over Our Heads
--new song?
--Why Do You Do This to Yourself
--Girl I Knew
--Punch Drunk theme/Here We Go
--More Than This
--Walk Out to Winter
--Autumn Leaves (?)
--It's a Wild World/Wake Me Up Before You Go Go/I'm Free/Waterloo Sunset/Wake Me Up Before You Go Go
--Lock My Heart and Throw Away the Key (?)
--Me, Myself, and I
--Shine On You Crazy Diamond
--video

encore
with Michel Gondry
--White Lines/Heart of Glass/Funkytown/Miss You

Set 2
with David Rawlings and Gillian Welch
--I'm Here to Get My Baby Out of Jail
--It's Too Easy
--Ruby
--Throw Me a Rope
--My Baby Left Me
--Luminous Rose
--30 Days
--Sweet Tooth

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» i've been traveling near and far
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i've been traveling near and far

I hope no one was holding their breath after the last Rawlings Machine show at Largo; that would've been a long, asphyxiating three-plus months between gigs. But the duo has returned to Los Angeles, with one crucial variation: They were operating under the Gillian Welch moniker, with all the fanfare that such an occasion entails.

Gillian Welch, Largo at the Coronet, July 16, 2009: For those playing along at home, this marks my very first Gillian Welch show; my purist predilections forbid me from counting all those other performances I've seen at Largo as Gillian gigs. If you find that distinction needlessly arbitrary, you probably won't want to know how I organize my music collection either.

Despite my rookie status, I knew not to expect the Rawlings Machine, and as much as I loved those shows, especially the gigs closer to home, I was ready for another perspective. On that count, Gillian and David did not disappoint.

If I had to single out one factor that differentiated this show from the previous Rawlings Machine outings, it would have to be the patina of professionalism on the proceedings. Not that they're going to take their act to Branson any time soon, but they appeared to at least consult a setlist and Gillian even launched several great quips. The highlight had to be her Oscar-worthy performance as the bikini-clad woman sitting atop her boyfriend's shoulders at Bonnaroo and flashing the musicians--she didn't act out that part--all to the accompaniment of "Look at Miss Ohio."

It didn't hurt that they opened with "I Want to Sing That Rock and Roll"--for my money, the absolute best example from their catalog of their harmonizing--or that they hit so many songs from Time (The Revelator), including the title track, my current go-to tune. Though the previous week's show included several new songs, the only one they reprised was "It's Too Easy," featuring Gillian on vocals, and her rich timbre took the song in a whole other direction separate from David's reading.

This being Largo, all sorts of friends joined them, though only after a generous run by the duo--so that they could "rehearse," Gillian claimed. After a short break, Gillian and David came back for their second set and brought out Benmont Tench and Morgan Nagler for, of course, "Sweet Tooth."

John Paul Jones was next, lending mandolin and harmonies to "Wayside/Back in Time." They kept him onstage for the rest of the show, as Sara and Sean Watkins, then Jon Brion emerged for the remainder of the set. The supergroup kicked off with what they called their "theme song," which turned out to be a delightful version of "Hot Corn Cold Corn," though with slightly less spit and twang than Gillian and David unleash on their own. We thought "Caleb Meyer" would be the final song, until the musicians tramped back out, playing their instruments, Von Trapp-style.

Not long after, we convened in the Little Room for what Click and Clack would call the third half of the evening and what could be considered an unofficial Watkins Family Hour. Many of the principals from the earlier show dropped in, but they welcomed some new faces, such as Tom "Bruiser" Brosseau on an Everly Brothers tune and Fiona Apple on a few songs.

Dave Rawlings' guitar bowed before he did, as he handed it off midsong to Jon, and there was the matter of Gillian and Fiona making their introductions to one another onstage. Dave and Gillian eventually stepped up for the final number, "The Pines," and took over the second verse. Of course, Gillian and Dave enjoy more than a decade of singing and playing together, but there was no doubt in my mind who turned in the best rendition.

See also:
» when you gonna live your life right
» hotter than a pepper spout

where the blacktop cracks

I can still think of lots of good reasons to live in California: the gorgeous landscape, the diverse population, and the abundance of avocados, to name just a few. Also, it doesn't hurt that Wilco scheduled six shows for this state alone. For my last gig on this run, we crossed just a few yards over the border to Harveys Outdoor Arena in Lake Tahoe--the band's first concert in this town.

Wilco, Harveys Outdoor Arena, June 28, 2009: I may be forced to defer to the rock tourism by-laws, but I count my longest streak of Wilco shows at eight, on a tour that started in Canada, weaved down the Western seaboard, then jumped over to Denver. In between, we skipped a gig in San Diego, which is why we may have to await the refs' decision. This year's journey, which saw no interruptions in the schedule, falls just short of that figure and equals the tally from a hallowed pre-blog run in 2004.

Photo courtesy of bbop

I don't throw these numbers around to show off--quite the contrary. Mostly, these sums serve to remind me of my limits. We call it the Wall (not to be confused with the Great Wall), and it's that seventh charge that seems to get me, when fatigue and homesickness finally take their toll. You could even argue we had it relatively easy this time, spending nearly a week in Los Angeles, then coming back to my home turf for a couple days. But our trigger fingers allowed little rest, and I'd been running ragged for days before we piled into the car early Sunday morning (albeit with bags of delicious French-style baked goods) for the four-hour drive to Lake Tahoe.

But the yin to exhaustion's yang is the second wind, and somewhere along I-50, the adrenalin returned and spirits picked up. And once stationed at Harveys, a sumptuous bathroom break didn't hurt either. (Next time, we're going for the bathrobes.)

Regular readers may have noticed that I like to create a semblance of an arc in my posts; the same applies to my rock tourism. Because I see so many Wilco shows, I often search for (or manufacture?) a continuum linking their gigs. It's the way my brain catalogs the experiences.

So as the Berkeley date seemed to renounce the Saratoga show, this Harveys performance, I'd hazard, expanded on the previous evening's triumph. It didn't matter that the crowd was nowhere near capacity, leading Jeff to call us "cute" and offering to hug everyone. It made no difference that the promoters didn't set up a barricade, leaving us to partially police ourselves. In fact, it was such a casual show that the singer ducked out during the second song for a pee break; though his ever professional bandmates spotted him for the duration of the track, Glenn threatened to start his own stampede toward the john.



This goofiness didn't, however, distract from the music. If the collective spirit distinguished the Berkeley show, then maybe Tahoe benefited from the mountain air or the crowd sparseness, allowing each note to be savored without distraction. The likes of "Bull Black Nova" and "One Wing" rung out, though in entirely different ways, and I remember thinking that "Side with the Seeds" couldn't have been a more appropriate pick. Wait, I take that back--"Casino Queen" was the evening's no-brainer, even if Jeff had to whip up the intro twice before he got it right.

The evening's rendition of "Spiders" is also worth reporting, if only for the comedy. Jeff picked out a textbook-example pimply, long-haired, Converse-clad teenager, who responded with the classic guileless "who me?" before stepping up. But he wasn't alone. A friend followed, and the two of them assumed strumming duties. That too was a temporary situation, as the friend seized control and convinced Jeff to relinquish the guitar entirely. The second kid was pretty damn good, to tell you the truth--someone has been practicing at home! After the song ended, Jeff held up his "mangled" and "smoking" pick so that everyone could witness the duo's handiwork.

Any encore with "Outtasite" is all right by me, especially on the last evening we were to spend together (for now). Nels and Pat continue to win over crowds with their Fred-and-Ginger routine on "Hoodoo Voodoo," and I'm thankful for "I'm a Wheel" because it allows the band to sneak under curfews--and for other reasons too.

Despite my earlier protestations, seven does not, in fact, suffice. I've been doing that silly thing of checking the band's tour schedule and hoping for some autumn dates, even when other domestic concerns are crowding my agenda. I take comfort, though, in knowing that Wilco dates are never far away.

The Tahoe show marked the third gig we attended with Okkervil River opening. It had been a number of years since I saw them in concert, and though I have good memories of them, I haven't investigated their music for a while. As a live band, they were wonderful. Their earnestness and effort were irresistible, even after three shows, and I promise to give them another try when they come back to town.

See also:
» waiting for a postcard
» i have no idea how this happens
» it's become so obvious
» can't find the time to write my mind