the cub who washed out in the flood

I promise to see more shows this year. I'm even buying advanced tickets again! Alas, scheduling conflicts and work demands forced me to miss a couple of enticing gigs earlier this year, but the irresistible combination of Eric D. Johnson (ex-Fruit Bats) and the Chapel finally forced me out of the apartment.

Eric D. Johnson, the Chapel, February 18, 2015: If you've spent a decent amount of time with me, particularly in Los Angeles or New York, you know I'm alarmingly adept at spotting semi-famous faces. For example, some friends still laugh at the time I recognized the author Rick Moody at a Wilco show (granted, in San Diego, but close enough). Hey, sorry for paying attention to dust jacket photos! Anyway, I bring this up because earlier that week I had noticed Eric himself on Clement Avenue, which happens to be my stomping grounds. It probably helped that he was wearing a hat with his own logo, but I can't lie -- it's my weird talent (?) too.

I probably shouldn't have been too surprised, as Eric has a history in San Francisco, including long-standing friendships with local acts. Heck, the last time I saw him in concert was at the Robyn Hitchcock birthday gig, his Instagram shows a lot of shots taken in the North Bay, and he even shared a story of the Fruit Bats' first gig in San Francisco at Bottom of the Hill, many years ago. As he explained it, local favorites Court & Spark opened, and the majority of the audience left at the end of their set. Thus, Fruit Bats played to a handful of friends, and Eric fell off the stage. I had to wonder if I was there?* As I've mentioned at every chance I get, I was at a Fruit Bats gig in San Francisco in 2003, and they pulled off an unforgettable cover of "Purple Rain." Hell, I'll include the pic again.



The Fruit Bats have, of course, disbanded, and Eric now goes by EDJ, which sounds rather close to EDM. I won't belabor the comparison, but you could argue the new solo arrangement might have more electronic touches. That is, Eric is by himself onstage, playing guitar, keyboard, and harmonica, but aided by loopers and prerecorded backing tracks. Don't worry, though -- it's the same folky psych rock you've come to know and love from EDJ.

When I listen to Fruit Bats, I can be lulled into a blissful state by Eric's silky vocals and the unhurried pace of the songs. Thus, I'm kind of surprised when I see them/him in concert and realize how rocking they can be. Eric didn't hold back, pounding on the keys and thrashing away enough on the guitar that he broke a string at one point.



I can't comment on the new solo tracks, but Fruit Bats faithful may be pleased to hear that Eric did two old songs. The first was "Dolly," and it moved the indie audience to dance around -- even the hipsters you'd never expect to show any emotion. The second title was the closer and crowd pleaser, "When You Love Somebody." You can rest assured we all jumped around for that one.

I can't not talk about Eric's voice at any show, and this gig is no exception. He's probably the closest to a crooner among the musicians I like, and I would pay good money to hear him cover George Jones. In fact, I regularly cycle through a handful of Fruit Bats covers on my iPhone. As long as those pipes are intact, I'll continue to find my way to his gigs, whether or not I know what he plans to pay. What are the chances he'll do "Purple Rain" again?

* At the end of the gig, Eric promised to come out into the crowd and mingle, and I could've easily confirmed my suspicions about that Bottom of the Hill appearance. Alas, I didn't stick around for long after the show, as I had just enough time to catch the bus home, and you DO NOT pass up an on-schedule 33 Stanyan late at night.

See also:
» i was a new york doll
» she couldn't dance but she wanted to
» waiting for the rainbow sign

strangest times

How has it been a year since my last Jon Brion show at Largo at the Coronet? I could point to the shrinking middle class and the nation's growing income disparity, but who wants to hear that? Eh, I'll blame sweet, sweet pennant-winning baseball instead. More important, how has it been 10 years of Jon Brion Christmas shows under my belt? That's all on me, and I'll take it.

Jon Brion, Largo at the Coronet, December 19, 2014: Have you ever had one of those days that's a tad off? Dinner at a favorite restaurant didn't quite hit the spot (we are spice wimps), then our Largo seat assignments were not the usual chairs. In fact, I hadn't sat so far back since an especially harried night early in the Coronet's revival. Eventually, we gave up our seats entirely and took the back row, which actually had a couple of advantages: The sound is great, and we saw Wesley Snipes in attendance. Also, I can't fault Largo staff, seeing as I hadn't been around for a full year, and they'd been perfect to an extreme degree during last December's massive undertaking. The only real casualty of the night were my notes, which were nowhere near as extensive as normal due to the lack of light. Sob!

Anyway, back to an earlier point: I suspected the numbers had been creeping up over the years, but couldn't confirm them until I got home. I first hit Jon Brion's Christmas show back in 2005, which means this was my 10th outing to Largo for the occasion. I guess you can say I'm in for the long haul. Not only that, my SoCal holiday plans have expanded over the years, including other shows when I can, as well as a favorite podcast taping. Despite the seating situation, I can wholeheartedly reiterate there is no place I'd rather be ahead of the holidays than Los Angeles.

In a night of surprises, you could add Jon's almost skeletal setup to that list. No wires, no drum kit, no vibes, no organs, no electric -- in their place, a handful of acoustic guitars, a few microphones, and a stool or two. My guess is that he and his techs didn't care to drag in the tangle of equipment, only to break it down a few days before the holidays. As we all know, Jon can make a milk carton sound good, so no worries there.

We'd have to wait a bit for Jon's set, as Tom Papa opened the show, following Flanny's intro. Jon took the stage shortly after.

Fortunately, some details don't change at Largo, as Jon opened with a piano number. I heard hints of "Every Time We Say Goodbye," but my word is worthless in that respect. Maybe you can guess at the jazzy feel, though?

Jon then went through several of his own tracks, starting with "Strangest Times" from the I Heart Huckabees soundtrack -- and a fitting theme for our night, if not the whole damn year. On this relative rarity, he went all piano and threw in some vocals for good measure. Remaining on the piano and the soundtrack work, "Strings That Tie to You" came next, then "Happy With You." Jon banged out the long outro on "Happy" on the keys and commented that he needed to relearn it, as he usually played it on bass, which you've probably seen and heard for yourself if you've attended a Jon Brion show in the last 10-odd years.

The guitars beckoned for the ensuing chunk of the gig, starting with "Love of My Life So Far." From our seats, we couldn't see all of Jon's equipment, so imagine our surprise when a fuzzy rhythm track rung out. At first, I thought the sound booth was pumping in the sound, but it slowly became obvious that the addition originated from Jon, as he planted his feet. My guess is that he had some sort of effects setup at his feet, not unlike his usual array, only without all the electric guitars. I'd like to see that again, preferably from a closer vantage point.

Jon opened the door to requests, his first choice one of his own ("Knock Yourself Out"), but the second was a beloved cover, with a requested singalong. "Space Oddity" was as beautiful as ever. I can't tell how much we as an audience contributed, but I think we made our presence known. The consummate collaborator, Jon pitched in with harmonies, and the sound engineers fiddled with delays and treatments to send the song to the stratosphere.

Jon closed out this guitar segment with "Same Thing." You know all the adjustments Jon makes for this song on the piano? He kind of did the same on the guitar, as much as those moves can translate between instruments.

If you know me, you know I keep a few trusty requests in my back pocket, depending on the mood of the show. As it happened, Jon returned to the piano and, on his own volition, went with one of my standbys, "Nothing Between Us" -- like "Same Thing," harkening back to the Grays days. Jon eased in a slightly different bridge and a long instrumental coda.

The next request was another all-time classic, "Jealous Guy." Jon needed a little help on the third verse, and I believe the requester came through. You gotta give it up for a fan who can back up their suggestions with lyrics (which would often disqualify me). We even tried to help out with the whistling bridge, again with varying degrees of success. Jon capped it off with the comment that it was one of the best songs ever. Agreed!

Jon's first guest of the night was David Garza, who'd been absent from Largo for a long time. This blog notes his last appearance as 2008, but don't take my word for it. David and Jon did a song on their own, as Gaby Moreno made her way to the stage, per David's request. Gaby then took the next two songs, her strong voice filling the room. They were both sung in Spanish, but thanks to her stage banter and a little research, I can report the second track was "Peces en el Rio."

Sara Watkins dropped in to help with backing vocals for the latter, then took over for a few titles. The first was "Be My Husband," from the Nina Simone songbook. Sara played her fiddle, of course, but by the end of the song, she had gone a cappella, which is always welcome with her lovely voice.

For her second track, she picked up one of Jon's guitars and attempted "Christmas in Prison," as she had the night before. However, she stumbled on the second or third line. Jon and David both offered improvised alternatives, but finally an audience member prodded her along, aided by his forbidden smartphone. From there, she finished the tune with no extra hints.

Sara volunteered a short preamble for the next song, noting that you were in trouble if your name was Cora or Corey in a folk song. Sure enough, Corey got it all the way to the grave. The treat in this traditional track: Jon playing brushes on the piano.

Jon was now left on his own, and he opted for what sounded like a new original song. The follow-up was a joke in response to his call for requests, when a guy sitting in the last row (in front of us) yelled out a nonsensical imitation of the melee of voices directed at the stage. Also responding to the peanut gallery, Jon finally picked up on his own "Ruin My Day," another request from fans in the last row. Jon closed out the main set back on guitar with "I Believe She's Lying," which featured a beautiful Western-sounding coda.

At the top of the show, Griffee had made no mention of a late set in the Little Room -- kind of a bummer, as Jon has been venturing over again in the last few months (according to my sources). However, Jon finished up the night with an all-Randy Newman encore. Perhaps he caught the final episode of The Colbert Report too? The third song, "Political Science," was sort of a no-brainer, given the truly depressing year. Once more, Jon asked us to sing along, and my well-trained companions did their part (me, not so much).

Finally, Jon tipped his hat to the season, coaxing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" out of the piano. I'm too lazy to go through the old setlists right now, but that may be the only staple of Jon's Christmas shows. (Oops, I take it back -- it isn't.) The song is so lovely in his hands and so welcome, especially in an otherwise irreverent show. I'll take it every December for as long as I can.

Setlist
Tom Papa opener

-- piano
-- Strangest Times
-- Strings That Tie to You
-- Happy With You
-- Love of My Life So Far
-- Knock Yourself Out
-- Space Oddity
-- Same Thing
-- Nothing Between Us
-- Jealous Guy
-- ? *
-- ? **
-- Peces en el Rio ***
-- Be My Husband ****
-- Christmas in Prison ****
-- Darling Corey ****
-- JB song
-- Tom Waits improv nonsense
-- Ruin My Day
-- I Believe She's Lying

encore
-- Sail Away
-- Dayton, Ohio - 1903
-- Political Science
-- Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

* = with David Garza
** = with David Garza and Gaby Moreno
*** = with David Garza, Gaby Moreno, and Sara Watkins
**** = with David Garza and Sara Watkins

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

blue christmas

Should you have the luxury of planning a getaway before the holidays, may I suggest a few days in Los Angeles? I'm now even more addicted to this tradition and was glad to squeeze into the Watkins Family Hour at Largo at the Coronet during my most recent visit.

The Watkins Family Hour, Largo at the Coronet, December 17, 2014: I'll admit right now that the title of this post comes from one of two songs I (1) recognized or (2) took note of the request. Even then, it's kind of a lie because Christmas was anything but blue in Los Angeles, either meteorologically or metaphorically.

When I'm in L.A., the Watkins Family Hour tends to be the hors d'oeuvre before the main entree -- or in this week, the palate cleanser between courses. But they are no ordinary snack. In many ways, they seem to have taken on the mantle of collaboration at Largo, with a varied and unexpected mix of talented guests and friends every month. I think they've settled into a workable blueprint for their shows, but as my visits to Largo have been limited, you'll have to forgive me if I repeat common knowledge. Also, I didn't take notes, so don't expect exhaustive coverage of every detail.

Sara and Sean opened the show on their own, then brought out the crack staff of backing artists that Largo regulars have come to know and love: Benmont Tench, Sebastian Steinberg, Don Heffington, and Greg Leisz. They kept a low-key presence onstage, but I guarantee that they're all over your record collection, in one combination or another, as you'll discover if you dig into the liner notes.

The first musical guests of the night were Beth Orton and Sam Amidon, along with Ella, a young friend from England (and Beth's helper while Sam was on tour). Confession: I had spied Beth slipping in earlier that evening, so her appearance wasn't a surprise, though it was a delight. Beth is a longtime Largo regular dating back from the Fairfax days, but I'd never seen her in a guest or a headlining capacity over the years -- this correction was long overdue. As for Sam Amidon, I had missed him (with her) at Solid Sound a few years ago, so chalk up another nice bonus for the evening. They attempted an old Christmas song Sam had learned growing up in Vermont; Beth messed up several times amid giggles before they finally pulled it off. The guests also came together for an a cappella title, their voices melding effortlessly.

The next artist to show up was less of a guest and more like family, as the Watkinses pointed out: Fiona Apple. She was both funny and weird (funnier and weirder?) tonight, rolling out an alternative narrative on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and possible reactions to his ostracization, all wrapped up in a blue streak. When "Rudolph" was called out for his potty mouth, Fiona informed us Rudolph had recently turned 37 and developed self-awareness. Anyway, it all led to "Walkin' After Midnight," a Fiona staple.

By this point, John C. Reilly had made a couple of appearances, first at the top of the show and again during Fiona's set to move the conversation along. Apparently, he's become the emcee of these engagements, offering banter to tie the show together. Befitting his role, he combined music and musings into his spotlight segment. At first, he and Tom Brosseau took one track together, armed with acoustic guitars and sweet harmonies. John also did a song on his own, the Elvis track referenced in the title of this post. I deserve a bonk on the head for this no-brainer, but dammit, that man can sing. (Sorry, I never saw "Chicago"!)

John C. Reilly closed out his set with his version of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas," rewritten for Los Angeles. He nailed every detail of the city and the season, tying it all together with a neat little bow that harkened back to his opening statement. Dammit, John C. Reilly, why do you have to be so talented?!

Jackson Browne rounded out the guest list -- the legend at last. He performed two songs, one by Warren Zevon, the other from Doc Watson, and he too got the John C. Reilly treatment. They didn't quite click immediately, but they eventually hit common ground, with Jackson complimenting John's poem from earlier in the night. However, the real treat in this segment was a story from Sean involving Thanksgiving leftovers and Jackson's swimming pool. Talk about a surreal image!

The show's main segment finished with a group singalong of a song I didn't recognize, except there was a lot of Bethlehem in the chorus (no, not that one). However, the evening was still in progress.

That comment I made earlier about the Watkins taking on the Largo mantle? Another strong argument for that claim: They continued the show in the Little Room. Sara and Sean kicked off the proceedings again, soon joined by Benmont, who did a handful of songs at his hosts' insistence. A few guests remained from the main set and made their way to the stage, among them John C. Reilly and Tom Brosseau. I loved being reminded of Tom Brosseau's inherently high lonesome voice and was pleased to see their rapport. I hate missing out such chapters in Largo's evolution, but I love catching up on my visits back.

I can report two specific memories from this part of the show: Sara covering "Christmas in Prison," which I knew only because I heard the request ring out from the audience; and a short discussion of John's tie, his own creation that looked somewhere between a bow tie and a jabot.

The Little Room was packed with fans, staffers, and other Largo guests -- an unusual scene, believe it or not. The reason for their anticipation soon became clear as Jackson Browne came to the stage. He's not a stranger at Largo (again, going back to the Fairfax days), but guessing by the banter, this may have been his Little Room debut. If so, I'm glad I was there.

Hats off to the Watkinses for another full-hearted night of entertainment. The best part? The week was only half over.

See also:
» all this time
» any old time
» been hoping that you'd drop in