These Jon Brion doubleheaders at Largo at the Coronet have eased my travel decisions in many ways, and I'll never skip one if I'm in town. Still, I can safely say the Friday shows continue to rule the roost. The house is brimming, the bar is bustling, the crowds are buzzing, and when you've been absent for four months as I have, they feel even more special.
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, September 30, 2011: My free Friday in Los Angeles had already been shaping up swimmingly, clocking face time with friends and family -- then it got even better after I arrived at Largo. Pals were hugged, seats were stellar, conversation flowed, and as it happened, the music was great. Hopefully I can do it some justice in the report below.
Following Thursday's model, the opening act tonight was another comedian, Margaret Cho, in this case, a longtime friend of Largo. I won't try to recap her set, but she invoked Chris Isaak, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Yoko Ono, among others. I'll also mention she bore a large, freshly applied tattoo on her left leg, protected by a sheet of plastic wrap.
Jon and Margaret shared a huge hug during the hand-off, and already, Jon's mood was notably peppier than the night before. He kept a running count of the first four songs and joked about keeping to a schedule. Of those four tunes, I can positively identify two of them, but as always, I get lost easily when Jon doesn't sing. If you must know my wild guesses, shoot me an email, and I'll make up a couple of titles for you. But this decade-plus of shows has paid off in some ways, as I know which Scott Joplin song Jon favors. I have learned a thing or two after all these years!
The back and forth between Jon's original works and beloved standards continued with "Meaningless," followed by "It Could Happen to You." For the first build, Jon worked up a song I want to hear again and again, the world-owning "Piece of You." How much have I missed this song? I took no notes during the performance -- I just wanted to listen to the great hooks and melodies.
Jon settled back at the piano for the next track, starting with what was probably some of his film music, though I couldn't tell you the exact title. This led to "Strings That Tie to You" on mellotron and celeste, before adding the MicroKorg and piano.
Speaking of film, the video mixers entered the scene as Jon brought up clips of Leonard Bernstein, Sonny Rollins, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I'm not always clear on which contributions make it to the final mix, but the Chili Peppers' rhythm section featured most prominently on what turned out to be "That's Just What You Are."
When I first started listening to music, I assumed songs were monolithic creations, set in stone. Thankfully, I've been disabused of that notion, but sometimes I wonder how certain combinations could possibly coexist. Red Hot Chili Peppers plus Jon Brion plus Aimee Mann (the song's other writer) would ordinarily set off some red flags, but it actually worked. The original tune has its own prominent cadence; the Chili Peppers' signature funk sound, as manipulated by Jon, served to bolster that beat. Sonny Rollins popped in too, at well-chosen intervals.
Jon picked up an acoustic guitar for the next couple of tracks: first, the Smiths, trailed by his own song. Then he asked for requests. Alas, I didn't get one in this evening -- that is, I tried, but it didn't make the cut. (Come on, there's gotta be another "Boys of Summer" fan lurking in the readership!) As for Jon's final selection, I'm going on context clues because I can proudly say I've never listened to "Freebird." But after hearing the audience shout-out and Jon's fair warning at the outset of the performance (on vibes, by the way), then seeing him flip off the requester at the end of the tune, I put the pieces together.
The next choice was Jon's, as he built up "Walking Through Walls," but this wasn't any old performance -- it brought out Grant-Lee Phillips from the inky shadows! Matt Chamberlain was also called to the stage, but he didn't actually show up. I would've welcomed his appearance, but honestly, Jon and Grant bring all you need for a good time (though it never hurts if, say, Robyn Hitchcock hangs around too).
Grant's first two songs were both Bowie tracks, but only one ("Cracked Actor") was delivered in anything resembling a traditional approach. The other selection was channeled through Willie Nelson, which should be familiar to anyone who's seen Grant at Aimee Mann's Christmas shows. Grant called it Willie Stardust, aka the Thin White Red Headed Stranger, and you could barely believe your ears as he worked both characters at the same time.
The decisions were up to Grant at this point, and he chose well. I was glad to hear one Grant Lee Buffalo song in the set, and the Smiths and T. Rex were not unexpected. The big surprise for me was Grant's opting for the Decemberists. Of course, Sara Watkins has been touring with the band, so the Largo connection is there, but actually hearing a song at Largo? It was a first for me at least, even if I had to check my iPod to figure out where it placed in the Crane Wife song cycle (No. 3, for the record). As for Jon, I have no idea if he'd heard the song before this outing, but he picked up on the chords in no time at all to accompany Grant on piano.
Once more, Jon asked for requests, this time to end the set on his own. The Pixies quote was minuscule at best before Jon settled into "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes." The studio version is all about the mellotron, but Jon zeroed in on the guitar tonight and, overall, kept it spare and underplayed -- which probably conflicts with my next observation because I loved the almost gothic sound he created, with huge, eerie heights of guitar. Hail the shoegazers!
We scooted over to the Little Room, and despite the initial wave of interest, the place wasn't even half full by the time the second set started. Margaret Cho and Grant-Lee Phillips returned with lots of chatter and a couple of songs from Margaret's record. This wasn't the first time I've heard Margaret sing, but I was surprised by how good she sounded. The hilarious lyrics were a given, of course.
They brought up Benmont Tench for an Emmylou Harris favorite, then jumped genres with a major discussion about Bob Mould -- one of my heroes, as regular readers know. It turns out Margaret and Grant are two of the acts slated for a tribute to Bob, set to take place at Disney Hall in November. Other artists include Dave Grohl (Bob recently played with the Foo Fighters on Conan and guested on their new record), Best Coast, Ryan Adams, and Ben Gibbard, who brought up Bob at a show in San Francisco earlier this year. (I was there!) They punctuated their chatter with their version of an old Sugar song.
Jon did, in fact, show up for a final song with Margaret, which I first heard a while back. Though the element of surprise didn't figure tonight, the anticipation of hearing the lyrics "I'm Margaret fucking Cho" was just as sweet.
Set 1
--Margaret Cho opener
--piano
--How Much Is That Doggie in the Window
--?
--Over Our Heads
--Maple Leaf Rag
--Meaningless
--It Could Happen to You
--Piece of You
--Strings That Tie to You
--That's Just What You Are
--Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
--Love of My Life So Far
--Freebird
--Walking Through Walls
w/ Grant-Lee Phillips
--Cracked Actor
--Ziggy Stardust
--You Just Have to Be Crazy
--Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me
--The Crane Wife 3
--Ballrooms of Mars
--Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes
Set 2
Margaret and Grant-Lee
--Eat Shit and Die
--Asian Adjacent
--Two More Bottles of Wine [with Benmont Tench]
--Favorite Thing
--Enemies [with Jon Brion]
See also:
» september gurls
» i'm happy, hope you're happy too
» if there's a star above
» scraping paper to documen
» your favorite thing
» no matter what the future brings
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
september gurls
Buried deep in these blog pages are my initial guidelines about rock tourism, most of which I threw out when whims and finances agreed. I'm not necessarily happy about revisiting these tenets, but I have to, including the notion of scheduling only one trip per month. Since I spent the summer flying around the United States, it took this long to return to Los Angeles for Jon Brion's shows at Largo at the Coronet. And let me tell you -- it's good to be back.
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, September 29, 2011: In his opening set, Steve Agee asked if any Jewish people were in the audience, forsaking their Rosh Hashanah duties. The next day it hit me: Those Talmudic scholars and I aren't so far apart. We both study canonical texts, mining them for subtle variations and new interpretations. I claim no greater relevance to the outside world, but I have a newfound respect for this cloistered group.
Steve Agee also shared a hilarious story about Kanye West and Del Taco, but of course, Jon Brion was the man of the evening. With his longer hair and dark velvet jacket, he looked like a cross between (no pun intended) Lord Byron and Schroeder's bust of Beethoven bust from the Peanuts comic strip. Any other similarities are strictly coincidental.
The opening piano preamble stretched out longer than I expected, morphing into "Ruin My Day" with the kind of minute departures I live for, such as a touch of celeste and breaths of hesitation between words and verses. It felt rawer than the finely polished version you'll hear on Meaningless, but there's plenty of room for all of them.
The only thing I can tell you about the next track is that it combined the EMS Synthi, the celeste, and the MicroKorg. Feel free to let that marinate in your brain for a bit. Less mysteriously, Jon went with "Please Stay Away From Me" for his following move, still on the piano.
He warmed up the guitars with a jangly take on "Who Loves the Sun," then "It Looks Like You." From there, he worked up a couple of song builds, starting with "Get Over Yourself," which has a great foundation, even if the melody doesn't grab me. The same can't be said for "Girl I Knew," probably destined to be a lost pop classic, considering Jon's rate of recorded output. Tonight's version devolved toward the end, with Jon de-tuning his guitar and adding lots of fuzz.
The video mixers were deployed, as Jon brought up footage of Brad Mehldau and Percy Grainger (if that isn't the name of a character in a future Harry Potter novel, I'll eat my sorting hat), then added his own piano strokes. As you can imagine, the three of them offered a study in contrasting styles, but together they set the instrumental bed for "Voices." Jon alternated between the two guests pianists, but in the end, he closed out the tune with Brad's spare, deliberate notes.
Jon asked for requests, and I was first out of the gate with "September Gurls" because I'm a sucker for timeliness. You don't have to look that hard to find recordings of Jon covering this song, but lately, he seems less enthusiastic about the uptake. In any case, he went with it, but only in the style of Thelonious Monk. If I had walked into the room at that moment, I'd be hard-pressed to identify the song, but knowing what I did, I could pick out the chords and melodies. I'll take them, too, thank you very much.
The requests continued with a Black Sabbath medley on the vibes, though my limited knowledge could pick out only "Iron Man." I'm pretty sure Jon tacked on at least one more song before retiring the sticks.
The request express rolled on, and once more I cop to a possible omission with the opening chords of the next song. All I know is that the percussive track was built entirely of implements within reach of the piano, including a tambourine, a shaker, his trusty hammer, the piano walls and pegs, and even Jon's own feet. Against this lush rhythmic background, he dropped in "Don't Let Me Down." At one point, he double-tracked his voice via the vocoder. As you can guess, we'd wandered far from the Beatles' original vision.
We'd meander even further, as Jon introduced almost Spanish-style fingerpicking on an acoustic guitar. This ultimately led to a whisper of Radiohead's "High and Dry," before returning to "Don't Let Me Down."
Jon's musical guests of the night turned out to be Gabe Wicher and Paul Kowert, on fiddle and bass, respectively, from the Punch Brothers. As is their style, they appeared to have no premeditated plans for the night, so there was some back and forth about what they could carry off. I think I heard Jon ask Gabe and Paul for any old-timey suggestions, but they didn't seem to have any set ideas themselves. The casual banter resulted in "Ain't Misbehavin'." I wish I could tell you I memorized every note of this song and will no longer misidentify this title when I guess at the setlist, but you know it's already gone from my brain.
A request came from the back of the room -- from Flanagan, as it turned out -- for Elvis, and another patron added his own caveat for "the good one," though the pundit didn't name names. Jon took it under consideration and explained the lull that followed was the result of the "cultural math" he was trying to do in his brain. It added up to an attempt at one line from "Mystery Train" -- which I know both Elvises can do -- before going with what he knows: "My Baby Left Me," but with a subtle detour into "Pump It Up," a tiny detail that further brightened my night.
Gabe Wicher led on their final collaboration of the night, "Someone to Watch Over Me." Not only is this in semi-regular rotation in Jon's show, it also qualifies as a standard, just as Jon originally requested from the guests. Along the more traditional lines, the tune clocked in at a reasonable duration and remained true to its originating era.
Jon went solo for the final song, his own "I Believe She's Lying," but before I try to set the scene, I need you to think back to the studio version of this song. It's the epitome of power pop, right? After all, Aimee Mann is the co-writer, and if nothing else, power pop is about those perfectly formed gems -- those three-minute musical miracles.
Contrast this image with the vast majority of Jon's live performances of this song. At times, chaos might be an understatement; on other occasions, it's more like an exorcism. The definitive example for me is Jon's set at the Intonation Festival back in 2006, when he kicked over the electric piano in the course of song. We weren't far off tonight, as he tossed back the piano seat and stabbed at the video mixers with the head of his guitar. Without the chair, he was left to play standing up, a la Jerry Lee Lewis. I guess this is my way of saying there may be more to this song than its beautiful construction and idealized form, but you may not realize it until you've seen it live.
Setlist
--Steve Agee opener
--piano
--Ruin My Day
--?
--Please Stay Away From Me
--Who Loves the Sun
--It Looks Like You
--Get Over Yourself
--Girl I Knew
--Voices
--September Gurls
--Iron Man
--Don't Let Me Down/High and Dry
w/ Gabe Wicher and Paul Kowert
--Ain't Misbehavin'
--My Baby Left Me
--Someone to Watch Over Me
--I Believe She's Lying
See also:
» don't get around much anymore
» now I try to be amused
» the power of suggestion, the element of chance
Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, September 29, 2011: In his opening set, Steve Agee asked if any Jewish people were in the audience, forsaking their Rosh Hashanah duties. The next day it hit me: Those Talmudic scholars and I aren't so far apart. We both study canonical texts, mining them for subtle variations and new interpretations. I claim no greater relevance to the outside world, but I have a newfound respect for this cloistered group.
Steve Agee also shared a hilarious story about Kanye West and Del Taco, but of course, Jon Brion was the man of the evening. With his longer hair and dark velvet jacket, he looked like a cross between (no pun intended) Lord Byron and Schroeder's bust of Beethoven bust from the Peanuts comic strip. Any other similarities are strictly coincidental.The opening piano preamble stretched out longer than I expected, morphing into "Ruin My Day" with the kind of minute departures I live for, such as a touch of celeste and breaths of hesitation between words and verses. It felt rawer than the finely polished version you'll hear on Meaningless, but there's plenty of room for all of them.
The only thing I can tell you about the next track is that it combined the EMS Synthi, the celeste, and the MicroKorg. Feel free to let that marinate in your brain for a bit. Less mysteriously, Jon went with "Please Stay Away From Me" for his following move, still on the piano.
He warmed up the guitars with a jangly take on "Who Loves the Sun," then "It Looks Like You." From there, he worked up a couple of song builds, starting with "Get Over Yourself," which has a great foundation, even if the melody doesn't grab me. The same can't be said for "Girl I Knew," probably destined to be a lost pop classic, considering Jon's rate of recorded output. Tonight's version devolved toward the end, with Jon de-tuning his guitar and adding lots of fuzz.
The video mixers were deployed, as Jon brought up footage of Brad Mehldau and Percy Grainger (if that isn't the name of a character in a future Harry Potter novel, I'll eat my sorting hat), then added his own piano strokes. As you can imagine, the three of them offered a study in contrasting styles, but together they set the instrumental bed for "Voices." Jon alternated between the two guests pianists, but in the end, he closed out the tune with Brad's spare, deliberate notes.
Jon asked for requests, and I was first out of the gate with "September Gurls" because I'm a sucker for timeliness. You don't have to look that hard to find recordings of Jon covering this song, but lately, he seems less enthusiastic about the uptake. In any case, he went with it, but only in the style of Thelonious Monk. If I had walked into the room at that moment, I'd be hard-pressed to identify the song, but knowing what I did, I could pick out the chords and melodies. I'll take them, too, thank you very much.
The requests continued with a Black Sabbath medley on the vibes, though my limited knowledge could pick out only "Iron Man." I'm pretty sure Jon tacked on at least one more song before retiring the sticks.
The request express rolled on, and once more I cop to a possible omission with the opening chords of the next song. All I know is that the percussive track was built entirely of implements within reach of the piano, including a tambourine, a shaker, his trusty hammer, the piano walls and pegs, and even Jon's own feet. Against this lush rhythmic background, he dropped in "Don't Let Me Down." At one point, he double-tracked his voice via the vocoder. As you can guess, we'd wandered far from the Beatles' original vision.
We'd meander even further, as Jon introduced almost Spanish-style fingerpicking on an acoustic guitar. This ultimately led to a whisper of Radiohead's "High and Dry," before returning to "Don't Let Me Down."
Jon's musical guests of the night turned out to be Gabe Wicher and Paul Kowert, on fiddle and bass, respectively, from the Punch Brothers. As is their style, they appeared to have no premeditated plans for the night, so there was some back and forth about what they could carry off. I think I heard Jon ask Gabe and Paul for any old-timey suggestions, but they didn't seem to have any set ideas themselves. The casual banter resulted in "Ain't Misbehavin'." I wish I could tell you I memorized every note of this song and will no longer misidentify this title when I guess at the setlist, but you know it's already gone from my brain.
A request came from the back of the room -- from Flanagan, as it turned out -- for Elvis, and another patron added his own caveat for "the good one," though the pundit didn't name names. Jon took it under consideration and explained the lull that followed was the result of the "cultural math" he was trying to do in his brain. It added up to an attempt at one line from "Mystery Train" -- which I know both Elvises can do -- before going with what he knows: "My Baby Left Me," but with a subtle detour into "Pump It Up," a tiny detail that further brightened my night.Gabe Wicher led on their final collaboration of the night, "Someone to Watch Over Me." Not only is this in semi-regular rotation in Jon's show, it also qualifies as a standard, just as Jon originally requested from the guests. Along the more traditional lines, the tune clocked in at a reasonable duration and remained true to its originating era.
Jon went solo for the final song, his own "I Believe She's Lying," but before I try to set the scene, I need you to think back to the studio version of this song. It's the epitome of power pop, right? After all, Aimee Mann is the co-writer, and if nothing else, power pop is about those perfectly formed gems -- those three-minute musical miracles.
Contrast this image with the vast majority of Jon's live performances of this song. At times, chaos might be an understatement; on other occasions, it's more like an exorcism. The definitive example for me is Jon's set at the Intonation Festival back in 2006, when he kicked over the electric piano in the course of song. We weren't far off tonight, as he tossed back the piano seat and stabbed at the video mixers with the head of his guitar. Without the chair, he was left to play standing up, a la Jerry Lee Lewis. I guess this is my way of saying there may be more to this song than its beautiful construction and idealized form, but you may not realize it until you've seen it live.
Setlist
--Steve Agee opener
--piano
--Ruin My Day
--?
--Please Stay Away From Me
--Who Loves the Sun
--It Looks Like You
--Get Over Yourself
--Girl I Knew
--Voices
--September Gurls
--Iron Man
--Don't Let Me Down/High and Dry
w/ Gabe Wicher and Paul Kowert
--Ain't Misbehavin'
--My Baby Left Me
--Someone to Watch Over Me
--I Believe She's Lying
See also:
» don't get around much anymore
» now I try to be amused
» the power of suggestion, the element of chance
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
before i sputter out
Just to get this out of the way, my concert calendar for August now appears depleted, but maybe next month will be a little livelier. In the meantime, I hit the Great American Music Hall for the eels.
Eels, Great American Music Hall, August 11, 2011: I've fallen into the formerly anathema habit of not buying concert tickets ahead of time and letting the chips fall where they may. This often means missing the gig entirely, or I turn to Craigslist for an extra. For the eels gig, several sellers contacted me, but I also got an imbalanced exchange with another would-be ticket holder. I'll excerpt his emails below.
Note: This does not include a surprise Gchat session littered with jokes (?) about chemical dependency and mandatory sentencing -- watch your privacy controls, kids! I ended up buying a ticket elsewhere in a completely professional transaction, and when I informed the fellow above, he replied that he'd "found a total cutie on Match.com who loves Eels." I'm pretty sure I dodged a major bullet on this one.
I can't tell you whether this guy was serious, but if it was performance art, it was fitting for an eels show, where a dose of theatrics has always been the norm. Tonight, early hints of these dramatic touches included an impressive bank of lights, three small trophies topping various amps and monitors, and a reinforced barrier at the front of the stage. Also, "Eelvis Presley" warmed up the crowd with a short selection of famous tracks from the King.
It soon became apparent why the barrier was in place; it allowed room for three wooden blocks in the gap between the audience and the band. E, in turn, worked this short expanse as something like a catwalk, ambling out to the edge throughout the night. But let's face it -- this was hardly a teenybopper crowd. We greeted him enthusiastically, but no one launched themselves onstage.
It's a little odd to think that the eels have been around for 15 years now, with a full discography to prove it. I've managed to catch them on several tours in this time, and one thing I've grown to expect (in addition to the aforementioned flourishes) is the band's ongoing transformations of the of their back catalog.
Back in 2008, the two-man gang banged out stripped-down treatments, but with six supporting players, the latest version of the group went all out. The only description I feel comfortable reporting is "I Like Birds" went all cock rock. Also, during the new-style "Novocaine for the Soul," I kept wondering what kind of miracle occurred that such an unorthodox piece of pop could be considered a hit. Finally, I never would've guessed that the former standard bearers of the '90s Silverlake sound would burrow so heavily into roots rock, but that kind of discovery is exactly why some of us stick around. They rounded out the setlist with a cover of "Hot Fun in the Summertime," though only after confessing to thinking they were in San Felipe, Mexico, for New Year's Eve.
E held court with Letterman-esque proclamations ("That was fun!") and minutely detailed band intros. I recognized a few of the faces, such as The Chet on guitar and Knuckles on drums. We were told Tiny Al on bass came from the same family that gave us Crazy Al and Big Al, which I suspected all along. The three other players looked less familiar, but they fit in nicely with their shades and sport coats. You can't say the eels don't set the scene.
The Submarines opened the show, and after a couple of hints, I remembered they were featured in an Apple commercial a little while ago. Speaking of LA fads, they hit the current sweet spot of boy/girls vocals in combination with a folksy, poppy sound. They charmed me, which is a rare feat these days.
See also:
» i like birds ... and eels
» where butterflies and blackbirds perch
Eels, Great American Music Hall, August 11, 2011: I've fallen into the formerly anathema habit of not buying concert tickets ahead of time and letting the chips fall where they may. This often means missing the gig entirely, or I turn to Craigslist for an extra. For the eels gig, several sellers contacted me, but I also got an imbalanced exchange with another would-be ticket holder. I'll excerpt his emails below.I'm currently trying to recruit a girl to come along; but she doesn't know who EELS are and is recovering from surgery. So I'd say chances of you getting it are even higher than I am (hahhahahah - don't worry about the only one who thinks I'm funny). I live in [town name] so I'd have to meet you in the Tenderloin. The only thing I need you to do is look out for police officers and crackheads with weapons while I score my dope. (Unarmed crackheads are easy to handle). Just kidding of course......
Man....chick said a week and a half ago she'd love to go. Now I get a text on the DAY OF THE SHOW that she isn't coming 'but if you want to come to [town name] for a few drinks I'd be happy to have you.' I CAN GET ALCOHOL ON JESUS' BIRTHDAY WOMAN! What the fuck is that? Granted E tours way too much and I wouldn't be surprised to see him in the Bay Area before New Years......It is not an everyday occurrence. She probably drinks fruity smirnoff shit anyways. Damn I'm pissed. Kinda nice how my sarcasm stays in tact when I'm really mad though :) Up at [university name] used to pay 400 for a single football seat when the face value was something like 112. I don't want to rip you off though; just want you to see a band you enjoy and have enough money to survive the week (I'm frugal......Danish. Not Jewish. But frugal). Can you do $50 in unmarked Canadian bills?
Note: This does not include a surprise Gchat session littered with jokes (?) about chemical dependency and mandatory sentencing -- watch your privacy controls, kids! I ended up buying a ticket elsewhere in a completely professional transaction, and when I informed the fellow above, he replied that he'd "found a total cutie on Match.com who loves Eels." I'm pretty sure I dodged a major bullet on this one.
I can't tell you whether this guy was serious, but if it was performance art, it was fitting for an eels show, where a dose of theatrics has always been the norm. Tonight, early hints of these dramatic touches included an impressive bank of lights, three small trophies topping various amps and monitors, and a reinforced barrier at the front of the stage. Also, "Eelvis Presley" warmed up the crowd with a short selection of famous tracks from the King.
It soon became apparent why the barrier was in place; it allowed room for three wooden blocks in the gap between the audience and the band. E, in turn, worked this short expanse as something like a catwalk, ambling out to the edge throughout the night. But let's face it -- this was hardly a teenybopper crowd. We greeted him enthusiastically, but no one launched themselves onstage.
It's a little odd to think that the eels have been around for 15 years now, with a full discography to prove it. I've managed to catch them on several tours in this time, and one thing I've grown to expect (in addition to the aforementioned flourishes) is the band's ongoing transformations of the of their back catalog.
Back in 2008, the two-man gang banged out stripped-down treatments, but with six supporting players, the latest version of the group went all out. The only description I feel comfortable reporting is "I Like Birds" went all cock rock. Also, during the new-style "Novocaine for the Soul," I kept wondering what kind of miracle occurred that such an unorthodox piece of pop could be considered a hit. Finally, I never would've guessed that the former standard bearers of the '90s Silverlake sound would burrow so heavily into roots rock, but that kind of discovery is exactly why some of us stick around. They rounded out the setlist with a cover of "Hot Fun in the Summertime," though only after confessing to thinking they were in San Felipe, Mexico, for New Year's Eve.
E held court with Letterman-esque proclamations ("That was fun!") and minutely detailed band intros. I recognized a few of the faces, such as The Chet on guitar and Knuckles on drums. We were told Tiny Al on bass came from the same family that gave us Crazy Al and Big Al, which I suspected all along. The three other players looked less familiar, but they fit in nicely with their shades and sport coats. You can't say the eels don't set the scene.
The Submarines opened the show, and after a couple of hints, I remembered they were featured in an Apple commercial a little while ago. Speaking of LA fads, they hit the current sweet spot of boy/girls vocals in combination with a folksy, poppy sound. They charmed me, which is a rare feat these days.
See also:
» i like birds ... and eels
» where butterflies and blackbirds perch
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