a few of my favorite things

Happy 2018! I have a pretty good feeling about this coming year, but if you don't mind, I need to step back in time for a few posts. I promise they'll be worth it, starting with Jon Brion's annual quasi-Christmas show at Largo at the Coronet.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 22, 2017

You know the drill. This has been my favorite musical event of the year for the last decade-plus, and 2017 was no different. In fact, I feel like I needed this one more than ever because even as the rest of the world has gone to shit, Largo has remained true. Stay gold, Ponyboy!

The calendar says I went to three Jon Brion shows this year, which is about my average nowadays. I can't speak of any ongoing trends at Largo, but the last two shows I've attended have featured an opening slot filled by a famous comedian -- sorta like the old days on Fairfax. Tonight, we got Sarah Silverman trying fresh material before our eyes. I'm not sure if I've actually seen Sarah's standup; perhaps I caught a set back at the smaller club, but I can't vouch for it. Anyway, she was fantastic onstage, even as she scanned from her notes to try to connect points she had jotted down. Her material was fresher than the cold-pressed juice for sale from the finer vendors on Santa Monica Avenue, and I'm curious to hear how she further refines her thoughts.

Jon was next, and my notes read "victimless amateur porn smile," which confused me at first, reading them two-plus weeks after the show. But in recounting Sarah's portion of the evening, I now realize it was a nod to a bit about her masturbation techniques and how they differ from the popular image perpetuated by mainstream porn. Whew, glad that's all cleared up!

Before I proceed, I should mention that Jon has a good array of instruments onstage, but not the full load, depending on which shows you've seen. That is, he had several guitars, a drum kit, a Leslie cabinet, a couple of microphones, a Korg synthesizer, a pedal steel set, and either a chamberlin or a mellotron (I don't know the difference). If you're curious, that meant no video screens or mixers and no vibes (as seen in previous Christmas shows); also, the usual jungle of chords when he's in heavy looping mode was absent.

Jon quickly fessed to having throat problems. He sounded fine while speaking and held it together well when he chose to sang -- but more details on that later. Instead, he threatened to stick to the lower range of Morrissey, Chet Baker, and Howlin' Wolf for his song selections.

His opening piano exercise somehow morphed into "Merry Fucking War on Christmas," according to my notes, but I can't offer more detail. However, I can say he delivered on his promised performers with a Smiths song, then a Chet Baker favorite. Alas, I don't think we got Howlin' Wolf as a follow-up.

In a further move to preserve his voice, Jon reached into a collection of records he had brought onstage and found an appropriate title. He settled on the DIY Psychoanalysis Kit and played some tunes over it, adding a beat, bass (via the synth), and piano. This again reminded me of the old place, as Scott in the sound booth would cue up an odd retro album and Jon would react as his whims took him. Somehow, this led into a Christmas song medley with all of your favorites. I'm old-fashioned in that I like when Jon's December shows incorporate a Christmas theme, so no complaints here.

Jon returned to the usual program with "Knock Yourself Out," then asked us for requests accompanied by a wish of his own: Sing along! We did the best we could with "Life on Mars," but not as much as with the next tune, "Bohemian Rhapsody." Fortunately, I seemed to be the only person in the room with no grasp of the song, as it was probably the best singalong I've ever heard at Largo. Granted, I've taken in plenty of good ones, but perhaps our seats in the third row (and not the usual first row) helped highlight the sound. As a nonparticipant, I was impressed.

Next came our first guest of the night: Fred Armisen, whom you may know from Saturday Night Live and Portlandia, among other showcases. After a little banter with Jon, he went to the drums and demonstrated how not to play them in a number of styles: jazz, reggae, Ringo, and Keith Moon. I'm doing no justice to his bit, except to say that we were soooooo close to hearing "Baba O'Riley" when he and Jon went in on the last segment.

Jon then switched to guitar and invited a man I didn't recognize to the stage to play bass with the combo. I believe his name was Steve; as you'll see, the lack of last names will be a theme of the night. Together, the trio tore into a bunch of instrumental tracks. I wish I could name the Dick Dale selection for you, but rest assured it wasn't "Wipeout." From there, "Sleepwalk" was a no-brainer, and we should've seen the "Peter Gunn Theme" coming.

Jon asked for more requests and chose the one from a guy sitting a couple of seats down from me: "Time of the Season." Of course, he asked for our participation, and we did the best we could, though it was no comparison to "Bohemian Rhapsody." The song was a nice reminder to me of the former crowd favorite -- not that it's fallen out of favor, only that it's been a while since I've heard anyone bring it up, and overall, it's a great feelgood track.

The second guest then emerged, and I can't tell you his last name to save my life. Nonetheless, Jon summoned Joel to the mic for a number of songs. He had a warm, expressive voice, and he seemed to favor relatively obscure Neil Young tracks. He also landed on "The Man Who Sold the World" and "Waterloo Sunset," the latter in a more traditional clip than we're used to hearing with Jon. Strangely, for two of the most familiar songs, "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" and "Cortez the Killer," Jon took the vocals and Joel didn't do a whole lot. I think he was searching his phone for lyrics to the former, but sort of wandered off-stage in the middle of the latter.

As you might've guessed, Jon handled "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" on piano, but switched to electric guitar for "Cortez the Killer." For the latter, he also asked Steve to return to the stage and invited up a new drummer: a woman named Page (Paige?), whom I believe to be his girlfriend. Don't ask me how I know this, and I have nothing else to share, but I might as well mention it. She did a great job, by the way.

Jon handled a jazzy piano segment by himself, then a mysterious hand slipped him a piece of paper. With that note, he asked Sia to join him onstage. I often boast of the stars I've seen onstage at Largo, but I know that most of them don't quite register with the average consumer. Of course, I'll always have my Kanye West and Michel Gondry sightings, but a bonafide pop star hasn't been around in a while. Sia qualifies as such a star.

She also had the quote of the evening: "I've been sober for seven years, but I feel like I took a lot of acid tonight." That should give you an idea of how terribly sober my account is and how I manage to take the fun out of everything.

They started with her own "Snowman," from her current collection of Christmas songs, then took requests from the audience. First up was "Silent Night," and we mostly failed when we hit the second verse. Sia theatrically shrugged away her shortcomings with the lyrics, but gamely carried on. Her third and last song was also a request from the audience, and this time she willingly ceded the stage and the microphone to a couple who joined her from the first row. The young man had a great command of the lyrics and exuded confidence, even looking back at Jon a few times to urge him to keep pace with his cadence. Too bad we can't say the same for his actual singing (in)ability. But oh, that stage presence! The pros onstage couldn't have been more gracious and welcoming to him.

(Being a good digital citizen/snoop, after the show, I tried to find a professional connection between Jon and Sia, but turned up nothing. If you happen to know how they're linked, please send me a note. But honestly, how have these two musical geniuses not worked together before?? Anyway, it doesn't matter because it happened and I got to see them with my own eyes.)

Jon cleansed the palate with his own combo of "Punch-Drunk Melody" and "Strings That Tie to You" before bringing Fred back for a few. At first, he asked if Fred knew any Christmas songs, and Fred replied that Christmas made him think of the Clash. Thus, Fred (on electric guitar) launched into "Train in Vain" with the aforementioned Steve on bass and Jon on drums, then piano. In fact, for a spell, both Fred and Steve watched Jon mess with the piano strings, even as they played along. The jazz combo also tried to cobble together a freeform Christmas song -- something about "I hate Christmas and every holiday."

To close out, Jon asked for audience and band participation to narrow down his selection. Together, we chose medium and old, and Jon obliged with "Whiter Shade of Pale." I can't tell you how Jon comes to these decisions, but somehow his choices make a ton of sense.

And for the capper, Jon figured he might as well blow out what was left of his vocal chords, as he paired Dylan and Waits for "Positively Fourth Street" -- because he can. As you can imagine, we weren't invited to the Little Room for the aftershow this evening, but we could hardly ask for more.

Setlist
Sarah Silverman opener

-- piano
-- Merry Fucking War on Christmas
-- Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now
-- Everything Happens to Me
-- Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas/Jingle Bells/White Christmas/Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy
-- Knock Yourself Out
-- Life on Mars
-- Bohemian Rhapsody
-- "how not to play drums" *
-- Dick Dale song/Sleepwalk/Peter Gunn Theme/Secret Agent Man *
-- Time of the Season
-- Birds **
-- Man Who Sold the World **
-- Waterloo Sunset **
-- I Believe in You **
-- Only Love Can Break Your Heart **
-- Cortez the Killer **
-- piano
-- Snowman ***
-- Silent Night ***
-- My Favorite Things ***
-- Punch Drunk Melody
-- Strings That Tie to You
-- Train in Vain ****
-- freeform Christmas song ****
-- Whiter Shade of Pale ****
-- Positively 4th Street

* = with Fred Armisen
** = with Joel
*** = with Sia
**** = with Fred Armisen and band

Ghosts of Christmas past:
» let your heart be light
» i'm offering this simple phrase
» it's been said many times, many ways
» with soul power
» it's the end of the things you know
» you could say one recovers
» a really good time
» the things you do to keep yourself intact
» i've heard a rumor from ground control
» strangest times
» i'll be a rock 'n' rolling bitch for you
» purple rain

never perfected the simian stroll

Rocktober is pretty great around here, but if you're lucky, the touring goodness extends into the next month, as bands make their last journeys across the country before winter arrives. Unfortunately, November doesn't have a catchy musical nickname, so we'll have to enjoy it on its own merits and for such occasions as the return of Elbow to the Fox Theater in Oakland.

Elbow, Fox Theater, November 13, 2017

I have no idea how the music industry works anymore -- how bands break through or even how they decide when and where to tour and which cities will be the hot ticket. In fact, the original plan to see Elbow in Washington, DC, fell through partly because the gig sold out almost immediately (also: employment instability on my part). Once upon a time, Elbow didn't come to the United States much, but now it seems like they've hit a three-year cycle of tours. Hey, I'm not complaining; I'm glad to see them gaining fans along the way. Oddly, Elbow's show happened to coincide with Liam Gallagher playing San Francisco on his first solo tour of the States. I can only imagine the dilemma that dedicated Mancophiles (?) had to face as they chose between Our Kid and Our Other Kid. I stand by my decision wholeheartedly.

I'm completely removed from the UK music scene these days, so I don't know what size crowds Elbow plays to back in England, but a venue like the Fox seems to be a good fit for them over here. Back in the days when I saw them at Bimbo's (though minus the Independent gig I missed because the show sold out before I could buy a ticket), they clearly needed a bigger stage, not only because of the size of their band, but also the size of their sound and ambitions. The Fox gives them exactly that, and this time, they filled the room all the way up to the balcony pretty well.

I've read the prog-rock labels applied to Elbow, but I simply don't care. They've always been a band of sweeping sounds, strong emotions, and evocative lyrics, anchored by a charismatic singer. You might be surprised by the rarity of the combination when you listen to as much indie rock as I do. Anyway, that formula hasn't diminished on this go-around, and in fact, the addition of two new female violinists/backup singers further upped the musical bonafides.

Speaking of indie bands, I spent much of my formative years as a concert-goer watching bands who barely acknowledged the audience, much less themselves. We're talking shoegazers, by genre and by self-indentification. To this day, I feel a bit self-conscious when the rock ritual begins, whether it's a call and response or waving arms or whatever. Mind you, I do it too, but a part of me notes the silliness and the mob mentality (before I decide to do it anyway).

Elbow has a lot of this. Guy Garvey urges you to wave your arms often, and sometimes we clap (which I actually love), and I'd probably whistle along to "Lippy Kids" if I could carry more than two notes in a huff. It's an observation of behavior I don't indulge in a ton at the shows I typically attend.

Another funny thing about this show: Guy urged us to sing along for a few tunes. In fact, it became a running joke as he implored more than once, "If you know the words, sing along. If you don't know the words, sing along." But one of his chosen tracks, "My Sad Captains," was incredibly wordy! It took at least three swings through the chorus before most of the crowd (or maybe just me) could reasonably fake our way through it. Fortunately, we took up the slack with beloved tunes like "The Birds" and "One Day Like This."

By my calculations, Elbow will be back in 2020. If we're still here, I look forward to the next round of waving, clapping, and singing along.

See also:
» give us G&T and sympathy
» one day like this a year
» throw those curtains wide

it's time that we grow old and do some shit

Hey gang, I'm not dead yet, and despite my reduced concert schedule, I couldn't resist the opportunity to see Broken Social Scene in its latest incarnation at the Fox Theater in Oakland. Oh Canada!

Broken Social Scene, Fox Theater, October 26, 2017

In perhaps my favorite episode of 30 Rock, "Cougars," Liz Lemon goes on a date with a much younger man, and when he tries to convince her to hit an afterparty, she pleads, "I'm 37, don't make me go to Brooklyn." As Liz Lemon is my spirit animal, I know exactly how she feels, except I'm no longer 37 and substitute Oakland for Brooklyn. You have to make a pretty good case for me to venture over the Bay Bridge (or, more precisely, under it, via BART) for a show. Broken Social Scene offers a solid argument for the trek.

Last time Broken Social Scene came around, they were on ostensibly their last tour, but even then, they admitted that they weren't so much breaking up as taking a breather. Even if they hadn't said it, I would've assumed that was the case, what with the modern trend of bands reuniting again ... and again. In addition, I imagine that's the nature of such a loose collective. Band members are free to come and go to pursue their own projects, so you can't bank on a set schedule. In any case, I was glad to see them back. Even if the band hadn't returned, I would've been entirely happy with my last memory of them: a lengthy, sprawling show, filled with guest musicians, friendly tributes, and family shout-outs that fell slightly short of a free-for-all.

In the years since, Broken Social Scene hasn't pared back much, as far as I can tell. I didn't bother to count the warm bodies on stage, but most of the principals were present, including Kevin Drew, Brendan Canning, and Andrew Whiteman. Often the question with Broken Social Scene is which female collaborators will show up; tonight, only Ariel Engle, who happens to be married to Andrew Whiteman and plays a major role on the new record Hug of Thunder. Personally, it's not a huge concern for me, and Ariel has a lovely voice in her own right.

The band mixed up the song selection, with old favorites such as "Fire Eye'd Boy" and the beloved closer "It's All Gonna Break," as well as choice tracks from the latest album. "Hug of Thunder" is the standout track for me, and it's kind of a no-brainer to do "Protest Song," but the big takeaway for me were the Forgiveness Rock Record tunes. Maybe I didn't give it enough time? Because hearing "Texico Bitches" and "World Sick" reminded me that album has great songs.

Of course I'm going to go back to You Forgot It in People again and again because it remains one of my favorite records of this century. Fortunately, the band seems to like it too, as a significant portion of the show was devoted to those tracks, including the opener "KC Accidental" and the closers "Lover's Spit" and "Cause = Time." By the way, I admit I often can't remember the titles -- much less the words -- to Broken Social Scene songs, but in the case of "KC Accidental" (for one) I can easily hum the bass line and guitar track. Needless to say, I love it. Ariel handled the vocals for "Almost Crimes," and the two women from the opening band Belle Game joined her for "Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl," which I'm glad to see has been acknowledged as a modern masterpiece. Brendan took his usual turn on "Stars and Sons" as well (another fantastic bass line, in case you hadn't noticed).

The last however many times I've seen Broken Social Scene, they've lingered past the usual curfew, and this show was no different, even if not quite to the lengths of the marathon at the Fillmore (or the Warfield, now that I think of it). Kevin polled us on which song we wanted to hear: the aforementioned "Lover's Spit" or "Cause = Time." As noted above, we got both, which isn't much of a surprise considering the band's more-is-more approach to performance.

For "Lover's Spit," Kevin came down from the stage and wandered into the crowd, even giving hugs to several fans, kind of like a Canadian version of Bono, minus the pomp (though he touched on political themes, as he reminded us that Canada continues to support the United States, especially in such trying times). I had voted for "Lover's Spit" because the song's majesty and drama always get me, but I admit the energy of "Cause = Time" seals up a show much better, and it lets us sing "fuck the cause" at the top of our lungs. Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the Fox Theater staff, who helped Kevin over the barrier and back as if they'd been practicing it all tour. They were so smooth.

Broken Social Scene managed to rotate in two different sets of brass players, which seems excessive even for Broken Social Scene, but more has always been more with them. As always, a grand night with my favorite Canadian collective 🇨🇦 🍁🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

A post shared by pneyu (@pneyu) on Oct 27, 2017 at 8:52pm PDT

Speaking of Kevin, how underrated is he? We tend to think of Broken Social Scene as a collective, and if anyone gets individual attention, it's usually the female singers who pass through the group, but you have to give credit to the guy who is the glue of the band. Also, his voice is damn good. In fact, I almost never get FOMO, but the pangs hit me not long ago when he joined Zach Galifianakis for a handful of shows at Largo.

I'll end with perhaps the most Broken Social Scene -- er, scene I may have yet witnessed in the Bay Area. They started the show with Antibalas as the horn section, but the group had to rush off to its own show at the New Parish in Oakland after a couple of numbers. Somehow, they found another brass ensemble to help close out the show! I can't remember their name, but leave it to Broken Social Scene to up the ante. I can't wait to see how they top it next time they come back.

See also:
» the good times are killing me
» talking trash under your breath