(almost the blues)

Remember when Nels Cline Singers shows were a regular happening on the West Coast? I've missed those gigs, even when most of the music went right over my head. Alas, times have changed. The Singers aren't as commonly found out here, and even when they settle in for the now rare Bay Area residency, I hit only one of the shows at Duende, over in Oakland. It was good to have them back.

Nels Cline Singers, Duende, January 24, 2013: I'm not the worst San Francisco snob, but attending a show in the East Bay takes careful consideration (and forget the North or South Bay), helped along by a healthy dose of devotion. The Nels Cline Singers made it easy on me, playing at a venue conveniently close to the 19th Street BART station and teasing the singleminded music nerd factor that seems to be the only way to get me to a show anymore. In the process, they reminded me of how much I enjoy these shows, which I'll have to keep in mind the next time I decide to stay put while a beloved band is in town.

I'll try to keep this short since this is the last report you should ever read about a jazz ensemble. Give me credit for trying?

The lineup carried over from the last Singers gig I saw (minus guest collaborator Yuka Honda) and, as it turned out, so did much of the setlist (see below). The first set felt -- dare I say it? -- upbeat and accessible. As the trio moved through the songs, they went from mellow to funky -- like Detroit house funky -- to good ol' rock. Believe me, the heads were bobbing along to the groove. My completely juvenile and ill-informed hunch says the tunes had a newer sense of sophistication and less of a punk edge, perhaps owing to Trevor Dunn's new place in the band on bass. Or I could be making all this up.

Ben Goldberg, a frequent guest of the Singers, joined in for the second set. Paul deemed it the archetype of West Coast jazz, and I can't argue with him. To these tin ears, it sounded like the very definition of contemporary jazz, and the artists complemented each other beautifully. Nels and Ben, in particular, brought out each other's contributions with their own notes. A lovely bonus in this set: a brand-new song, tentatively titled "(Almost the Blues)." Keep an eye out for it, perhaps on the next Singers record.

Set 1
Divining
Mug Like Mine
Hairy Mother
Wedding Band
Thurston County

Set 2 (w/ Ben Goldberg)
Smarty Pants (Scott's song)
Brief Encounter
(Almost the Blues)
Amen-ette
Lullaby for Ian

Thanks to Paul for filling in the blanks!

See also:
» king queen
» spider wisdom

the things you do to keep yourself intact

Not gonna lie: The trend on this blog over the last few years isn't about to change. At this moment, I have a ticket to exactly one gig in 2013, with two more possibilities looming. However, as long as it's within my power, you can find me at Jon Brion's last show of the year at Largo at the Coronet, especially if the end of the world is forecast for the same date.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 21, 2012: You better watch out! You better not cry! You better not pout, I'm telling you why: Flanny Claus is coming to town!

Flanny's first act: Inviting a young man named Jake Gagnon (sp?) onstage for a couple of songs. A recent transplant, Jake has been busking outside of the club, as it was the only place he knew in Los Angeles. He showed few signs of nerves -- or hid them well -- as he borrowed a guitar that's passed through the hands of Emmylou Harris and Elliott Smith, as reported by Flanagan. The boss followed up by returning to a patron an ID he'd found in the courtyard and complimenting another audience member on the CD he'd been handed. Yes, Virginia, there is a Largo.

For his portion of the show, Jon opened with a somewhat maudlin tune on the piano, but once again, the season proved irresistible as he broke into "Jingle Bells," touched with a hint of "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy." I can't remember how he got to the disco version of "Jingle Bells," but the move was a lot more organic than you might imagine.

We'd hit upon the theme of the evening, as Jon returned to "Jingle Bells" for an Ellington-style treatment. The first guest of the night Sebastian Steinberg joined him on stand-up bass, as Jon added his own cooing and a sprinkling of celeste.

Jon moved the guitars and mulled over the possibilities before landing on something "slightly more evil." Re-enter "Jingle Bells," this time as possibly played in France in 1928 (read: Django Reinhardt). I wonder if the imminent release of the Quentin Tarantino movie was a subliminal influence? At Jon's urging, Sebastian added slam-style poetry declaring his hatred of the Grove at Christmas time. It was almost as if he was in the car with us all those times we drove up Fairfax to the old Largo! In any case, no argument here.

The siren call of "Jingle Bells" beckoned once more (the fifth movement, as Jon called it) in yet another permutation. I'll pause for a second and let you guess the style Jon next appended to the winter classic. Ragtime? Rockabilly? Reggae? Any other style starting with an "r"? Wrong on all counts! My notes say "John Cage" -- that is, modern and abstract, but considering my complete ignorance in the field, you might still have a better guess than me.

Breaking free of the bells, Jon went with "actual Ellington" with (I think) "But Beautiful," which I recognize solely from earlier Largo performances; even then, I can't vouch for that positive ID. Here again, "Jingle Bells" paid a visit, this time to the coda.

Jon and Sebastian finally hit a couple of original works -- both part of Sara Watkins' (with whom Sebastian not so coincidentally tours) repertoire -- including the always welcome "Trouble." More of that, please!

My notes make no mention of how Jon and Sebastian jumped to a discussion of a Fox News Christmas album, though I recall some mention of a war on Christmas. Nor can I possibly guess where Jon's next song came from, a perfectly formed tune addressing a number of current political themes and topped with a chorus moaning, "When those damn liberals make me take down my nativity scene." Off-the-cuff original? Personal parody? A Toby Keith masterwork? I'm at a loss -- send me any suggestions you may have.

Jon burrowed back into the guitars for another pair of originals, first "She's At It Again," then "Happy With You." The latter grew especially interesting on the final verse, when Jon brought down the tone so that it became an almost a cappella rendition, with the guitar and bass quietly backing his voice. He brought it back up to fill the room, but this time inserted notes of Stevie Wonder's "I Wish" mixed what Jon called (George) Benson-style scatting, though he professed not quite knowing why he chose to do so.

Sebastian took the lead with the next selection, which we soon surmised was "Christmastime Is Here," aka the Charlie Brown Christmas theme. Jon and Sebastian took a little time to coordinate with one another, trying out a number of keys before deciding on the one that worked best. This segued into the other well-known "Peanuts" theme, for which Jon moved to the vibes -- and threw in the night's seventh salute (for those keeping track at home) to "Jingle Bells." Because why the hell not?

Sebastian returned to the mic for a more traditional tune, "She Thinks I Still Care," made famous by George Jones and occasionally heard at Largo. Jon's touches made it more high lonesome than country. Any objections? I thought not.

Jon finally opened the floor up to requests, but in the end, he did only one of them: "Life on Mars." As far as I can tell, he went with his own or his collaborators' choices for the rest of the night.

"The Way It Went" came and went, I think we got "Strangest Times" from I Heart Huckabees, and "Here We Go" grabbed hold for a perfect 3-odd minutes. And on "Knock Yourself Out," Jon made a 6-string guitar sound more like a 12-string, at least to these dumb ears.

I should mention that Jon has been chatting with the audience a fair amount throughout the night. Of course, he referenced the would-be apocalypse and pointed us toward similar prophecies that had marked all of human history. He also soliloquized on the old Christmas specials some of us may have grown up watching, particularly their problematic spacing of guest spots. We were spared this delayed satisfaction, as Jon brought out the ol' Largo gang to join him: Fiona Apple, Benmont Tench, Sean Watkins, and Sebastian (who'd taken leave for the last chunk of tunes).

By all indications, it'd been a while since the whole group had convened onstage, whether by design or due to touring conflicts. In any case, they hit upon a number of standards that are likely familiar to Largo regulars, but then again, standards are standards for a reason. They kicked off with "He's Funny That Way," led by Fiona and with Jon on backup vocals. However, Jon took over on the third verse, unable to hold back on this lovely song. Sean and Fiona veered through the murder ballad "Knoxville Girl," neither of them quite remembering the lyrics, but their amnesia was more amusing than annoying.

From cheetahmaster.tumblr.com

I tell you, though, never before have I been so delighted to hear "Don't Get Around Much Anymore." Not only has it been sort of a personal theme for, uh, several years now, but it also let me recall a recent 30 Rock montage (see right). Chainsaw hats for everyone!

Benmont knocked out "How Deep Is the Ocean," which elicited a discussion of the Gershwins -- Largo is, at minimum, a learning experience -- and Fiona finished out with "You Belong to Me" (the Patsy Cline version).

Jon retained Sebastian for the penultimate portion, in which he hit his own "Please Stay Away From Me" and "I Believe She's Lying." He also graced us with profuse and pretense-free thanks for our continued attendance and interest, mentioning what a honor it is to play music for a living, much less with friends, much less with an audience. I've done no justice to Jon's sentiments, in the same way I barely skim the surface of his shows with these reports, but I hope an iota of the pleasure comes through.

The buddies returned for the real final song, now joined by one of the newer Largo darlings, Blake Mills on a ukelele. They cryptically conferred with each other on the closer, but as soon as they started in, there was no question that any other song would make the cut. For the second (of many, I hope) year in a row, they tore into the "Roxanne"/"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" mashup. My only complaint is that the audience was less cooperative this time. Maybe they were just relieved to outlive the end of the world? It wouldn't have been the worst way to go out.

Opener
--Jake Gagnon

Setlist
--piano
--Jingle Bells/Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairly/Jingle Bells (disco)
--Jingle Bells ("Ellington") *
--Jingle Bells ("slightly more evil"; "France in 1928") *
--Jingle Bells No. 5 (John Cage?) *
--But Beautiful *
--Same Mistakes *
--Trouble *
--Fox News Christmas album? *
--She's At It Again *
--Happy With You/I Wish *
--Charlie Brown Christmas Theme *
--Peanuts Theme *
--She Thinks I Still Care [Sebastian] *
--Life on Mars
--The Way It Went
--Strangest Times (?)
--Here We Go
--Knock Yourself Out
--He's Funny That Way [Fiona and Jon] **
--Knoxville Girl [Fiona and Sean] **
--How Deep Is the Ocean [Benmont] **
--Don't Get Around Much Anymore [Fiona] **
--You Belong to Me [Fiona] **
--Please Stay Away From Me *

encore
--I Believe She's Lying
--Rudolph (You Don't Have to Put On the Red Light) ***

* = with Sebastian Steinberg
** = with Sebastian Steinberg, Fiona Apple, Benmont Tench, and Sean Watkins
*** = with Sebastian Steinberg, Fiona Apple, Benmont Tench, Sean Watkins, and Blake Mills

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

my starter won't start

Oh Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, I just can't quit you! At least not while I live in the Richmond District and you manage to book at least a few bands I want to see. Warren Hellman's legacy -- and our collective gratitude for his undertaking -- remains alive and thriving after his death. How lucky are we to enjoy his largesse year after year?

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, October 5 to 7, 2012: Much like in 2010, the Bay Area had something for everyone this weekend. A sampling of activities include Fleet Week, America's Cup races, the Giants games, a 49ers game, and mega concerts in Oakland. Whew! This may have helped keep the numbers down at Hardly Strictly; I noticed less of a crunch than in previous years. Alternately, maybe no one wants to see the same performers as me.

As for those artists, few jumped out at me as in years before, but there's something for nearly everyone, and I was able to whittle down my list to a number of essential performers. Top of the list was Justin Townes Earle; I love his latest record, and I couldn't possibly pass up this opportunity.

After a late, lazy morning (sorry Sara Watkins), I ambled down to the Towers of Gold Stage in the early afternoon. You gotta love the western border of Hardly Strictly around that hour. With no trouble at all, I was able to make my way close to the front for a great view. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera that day, so you'll have to take my word on my primo placement.

As Justin took the stage, it occurred to me that he bears a resemblance to Rufus Wainwright. They're both tall and lanky, with a bohemian air. They've prevailed over checkered histories, and of course, there's the whole music progeny thing. Maybe it's a country mouse/city mouse thing? Maybe I should save these thoughts for my anonymous Tumblr?

From easily fooled

Justin was accompanied by the same band that joined him at the Great American Music Hall earlier this year, and their chops came through as before. Back then, I didn't realize how big an asset Paul Niehaus was on guitar, though I could hear it in his contributions. Vince Ilagan and John Radford resumed their duties on stand-up bass and drums, respectively.

Obviously, festival sets are shorter than stand-alone gigs, but I think Justin got almost an hour of stage time, though he was slated for 50 minutes. Otherwise, he stuck with a similar format of frequent banter, a short solo set, and the full band treatment. If my memory is correct, we got similar but paraphrased versions of the stories behind "Maria" and "Nothing's Gonna Change the Way You Feel About Me Now." Hell, if I had gone through the same breakup and/or written as a great a song, I'd work that angle until they cut off my mic. They don't call that show "Storytellers" for nothing.

It's hard to imagine Justin at a loss for words when it comes to his songs, and we may have seen the best example of this during a potentially awkward moment. Though he easily shared stories about ex-girlfriends, he also introduced some uncertainty to the narratives, reminding us the subject was often a composite character. He couldn't do the same with "Am I That Lonely Tonight," which opens with the line, "I hear my father on the radio" -- especially with the man in question watching from the side of the stage. Apart from a subtle reference to the circumstances at the beginning of the song, Justin said no more on the topic. Then again, everything you need to know is in the lyrics.

With his extra (?) time, Justin was able to squeeze in the Replacements' "Can't Hardly Wait." That's a festival song if I've ever heard one.

My only real encounter with impenetrable mobs this weekend followed Justin's set, when I nursed the idea of checking out the Lumineers at the Rooster Stage. Denied! The path to the Rooster Stage from JFK Drive was truly a frothing sea of humanity. I should've known -- the always fortress-like stage plus the bustling food stands plus the runoff from the even larger Banjo Stage plus a band with an actual radio hit meant I didn't have a prayer in the world of seeing a centimeter of the stage. After failing to make any forward progress for a few minutes, I moved on.

Which brought me to the Porch Stage on the eastern side of the festival, well in advance of Robyn Hitchock's set. I've never actually seen the Porch Stage before, though it's the closest to my apartment. Little did I know how accessible and mellow it was! Even more so than Towers of Gold!

I accidentally continued my Earle family stalking with Allison Moorer's performance, where she was joined by husband Steve Earle for a couple of tracks. Justin could be seen wandering around too. Go figure!

But I was really there for Robyn Hitchcock, who didn't disappoint in a pink and purple shirt, as well as his trademark mop of white hair. Robyn's non sequiturs could easily power a fake or real Twitter account from here until our cosmic overlords reclaim this poor planet, so I won't try to cover them here -- except to note that he opened with a fantastic and affectionate comment about San Francisco "celebrating the 52nd year of the 1960s." To his credit, Robyn didn't seem to mind the Blue Angels flying overhead, dismissing them with a remark about (paraphrased) the impermanence of everything, so we should just enjoy what we have.

I think Robyn did a couple of tracks by himself before he brought up his special guest. I'm not even sure Robyn formally introduced him, but he was hardly a stranger to the crowd -- or to me, despite the well-meaning hippie's inquiries as to whether I recognized him. (He had also asked me between sets if I was familiar with Nick Drake, bless his heart.) The mystery man: John Paul Jones, frequent Largo guest, though I didn't bother explaining that to the new acquaintance. Oh right, he's kind of known for that other band too. My guess is that John Paul Jones took part in Sara Watkins' set -- which, as mentioned above, I had missed.

This may be the first time I've seen Robyn and John Paul Jones (does anyone refer to him with less than three names?) play together in any form, but I'm too lazy to look over my old posts to make sure. Needless to say, I fully realized the magnitude of this collaboration, as I have with every other John Paul Jones appearance I've witnessed.

John Paul Jones remained with Robyn for the rest of his set, taking on a bunch of Robyn's classics. I never in my life would've guessed I'd hear "Balloon Man" with a mandolin solo, but they carried it off beautifully. They also went in on "Tangled Up in Blue," Robyn's wife's favorite Dylan song.

The best moment of their set may have been "Saturday Groovers." To start, Robyn prefaced the tune with a tale of living next door to John Paul Jones, where they shared a single lightbulb; while one had illumination, the other was bathed in rain. This led to an explanation of the real-life groovers and their place in British cultural history -- hey, it sounded legit enough to me. The song itself was upbeat and fun, but the most endearing touch may have been John Paul Jones' impromptu harmonies at the end. They totally need to take this act on the road.

On Sunday, Son Volt kicked off the show. This might be the first time I've officially seen Son Volt live, though I've caught a couple of Jay Farrar appearances. Once again, it was a breeze to get to the front of the stage, where a steady sampling of Farrar faithful held court, including one fellow who air-drummed along to every track.



The first half of Son Volt's set was, in a word, problematic. Technical difficulties silenced the lead guitar for a couple of songs, and overall, the pacing was slow. The set picked up, both in terms of pace and spirit, with a block of Trace tunes right around the middle. Not only were the fans singing and jumping around, the energy carried over into the remainder of their segment. I think Son Volt closed out with at least one song from Jay Farrar's Jack Kerouac project with Ben Gibbard. Sorry, finer details escape me.

I can say one more thing about Son Volt: If you're a fan of Jay's voice, you'll be pleased to hear that familiar lilt going strong. It's still a fantastic instrument all on its own.

The Rooster Stage was slightly more open for Nick Lowe, but I went to my usual perch on the side of the hill. Perhaps some day my feet will touch the ground of that natural amphitheater -- one can dream. Not that the hillside is virgin land either; the gathered fans looked not unlike a post-apocalyptic enclave of survivors, though maybe the Whole Foods bags and wine bottles gave it away.

Nick was his usual cool, regal self, playing a mix of old and new, but always at his own pace. His playlist included "Battlefield," once covered by Diana Ross, though he downplayed its prominence in her career. "House for Sale" was welcomed warmly also, and he landed on a couple of classics: "Cruel to Be Kind" and (by request) "I Knew the Bride (When She Used to Rock and Roll)." The man may be the epitome of timelessness.

With that, my Hardly Strictly Bluegrass experience drew to a close for 2012. There's no use in playing coy anymore -- see you next year.

See also:
» i wanna reach that glory land
» watch the waves and move the fader
» we both pretend we don't know why
» don't get around much anymore
» between two worlds