And when you believed, they call it rock and roll

On Saturday we slept in as long as we could. We took advantage of Evonne's hospitality to loiter over fresh fruit and showers, eventually mobilizing for an excellent late brunch at Millie's. From there it was on to Intelligentsia for a coffee boost before hitting the road for north San Diego.

Why were we headed to Solana Beach? Well, Britt Daniel had announced an early show at the Belly Up Tavern just days before. So why wouldn't we be headed to Solana Beach? (I so love that I have an entire group of friends who share this attitude.)

I saw Britt Daniel sit in for a few songs with Jon Brion on New Years Eve in Chicago. Aside from that, I hadn't seen him since my first and only Spoon show: at the tiny Annex in Madison back in 2003. We made good time down Interstate 5, reaching Solana Beach in time for some pre-show gelato in the late afternoon sun. Upon entering the Belly Up Tavern, I was immediately struck by how much I liked the space. It reminded me a bit of the High Noon Saloon; the type of place you'd be glad to have in your city. Anya Marina (yes, there was even an opener for the early show) was just beginning, and we caught most of her set. Britt followed in short order, playing many of the songs I know best from the three latest albums, I was happy to note, as well as some new songs. He was good natured and friendly onstage throughout, and dealt well with some rather obnoxious and intoxicated fans. I got the impression he was used to it. Last time I saw Spoon, their most recent album was Kill the Moonlight, so there were many songs I'd never heard live. Of those, the one that really blew me away was "The Beast and Dragon Adored." I'm a fan of the song to begin with, but I absolutely loved the version Britt played on Saturday.

Britt finished up right at 8:00. Time for dinner and drinks and hanging out at the beach while the last of the daylight faded? Perhaps you know us too well by now to be fooled by that idea. No. Time to get in the car and motor back up to Los Angeles for the last Saturday night show at Largo on Fairfax: Paul F. Tompkins!

Traffic was not a problem, and we were parking at Melrose and Fairfax by 10:00. The show had begun, and we could see from the sign on the door that it was sold out. A quick look around when we stepped inside confirmed that Largo was packed to the gills. By the grace of God, Mike, and Flanny, however, we were admitted and seated in one of the only free areas: the floor directly in front of the stage. That was something.

The show itself was something, too. Paul F. Tompkins was hilarious, and brought up a number of special guests in traditional Largo style. Among them were many familiar faces from the night before: Fiona Apple, Sara and Sean Watkins, Benmont Tench, and Jon Brion to name a few. There was music, including a song Fiona had written about Largo. (My favorite line: "When Mr. Tench is on the bench, I want to be the piano.") Paul F. Tompkins talked a lot about Largo on Fairfax again, but he also talked about how great Largo at the Coronet will be. (Summer gelato in the courtyard has been promised by Flanny.) The mood was decidedly more upbeat on Saturday than it had been on Friday. As PFT said, "Last night was the wake. Tonight is like the baby shower!" The musical collective also played a rousing cover of "Nightclub" by the Old 97's. I enjoyed that very much.

And so, my true last night at Largo on Fairfax came to a close. Paul has mentioned a similar sentiment, but I feel blessed to have had the chance to become even a tiny part of that universe; as a repeat spectator, if nothing else. Such a wonderful community has grown up around Flanagan's place, and I hope - and believe - that the same spirit will carry over to Largo at the Coronet.



Also check out:
A review of Friday night's show from Variety
Fiona's Largo song on Youtube

It's all around you

Nine days in California went by far too quickly. For the most part they were a blur of activity. I did far too many things to do them justice in a single entry, in fact. I'll break this up, then, into two parts. This one is Saturday through Friday; the next one will be the following Saturday. We had a very busy Saturday. Uyen does detailed and reader-friendly show accounts way better than I could ever hope to, so I don't need to worry about the chronicling aspect. That frees me up, then, to ramble at my leisure.

The night I arrived, 4/26, was Jon Brion's last official show at Largo on Fairfax. I joined Paul, Evonne, U, and Heidi - the latter of whom had seen Jon the night before as well. A special show had been announced for the following Friday, which would be the true final JB date, but Saturday was the last show done in Jon's usual manner. I was thrilled as always to hear "Knock Yourself Out" - probably my favorite Jon song. "This is Where I Belong" seemed to have particular significance that night, too. In fact, everything took on a special significance. My last Largo salad! The last time I'd see Mike tease U by calling her over to her table from across the room! The last time the music would be turned up in small increments to almost painfully high levels before the show began! Come to think of it, they could do that at the Coronet too.

Sunday it was back to San Francisco with Uyen, and then Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks on Sunday night. Seeing Malkmus and the Jicks at the Fillmore was an unexpected treat. I guess I technically saw them open for Radiohead once, but that experience was marred by distraction and late arrival, so I barely remember it. I found them thoroughly entertaining this time. Stephen seemed relaxed and engaging, the songs were excellent, and it was nice to see Janet Weiss on drums. I can also understand why Live Nation wanted to brand the Fillmore and deploy it in multiple markets, but having now visited the original I just hate them for it all the more.

Then, work. Palo Alto is very pretty - what I saw of it, anyway. I still swoon a little when I see lots of palm trees, no matter how many times I visit California. I was originally supposed to fly home on Thursday morning. The last-minute confirmation of Jon Brion's final final show on Fairfax for Friday, however, wouldn't stop gnawing at the back of my mind. Far from satisfying me, being back in the Largo world just made me more eager to go again while I still could. I was already in California, after all! Luckily the planning worked out, I took an extra work shift, and found myself at Largo once more for its final weekend on Fairfax with Uyen, Paul, and Evonne.

This is the part where I talk about the show, but there's no way I can do it justice. Mike's variation of his usual speech before the doors opened was an indication of things to come: "No cameras, no cell phones, no crying." Two of those rules would be broken before the night was through. And from the time the first person hit the stage, we could tell it would be a hell of a night. Bobb Bruno, in full costume, played a Jon montage. Dave "Gruber" Allen related the hundred-year history of Largo on Fairfax, involving Jon's great uncle Jelly Roll Brion, and the great immigration of the Finnigan family from Ireland. A "supergroup" consisting of Dave, Griffy, "JB" on bass, and Flanny himself on brass entertained us with music and haikus about red Miatas. The camera ban was lifted just long enough to snap some pictures of the aftermath. Flight of the Conchords took the stage and played two hilarious songs. And all that was just the opener.

The rest of the night was a whirlwind of music, comedy, "magic," roast-style Largo stories, and special guests. Through it all, the significance of this particular Friday was never far from the surface. Jon played right through his usual break between sets. Around 1:30, when Sean and Sara Watkins were onstage with Gabe Wicher, Jon instructed them to play a song while he went to the back and watched. They played "Say Darling Say" and were then joined by Benmont and Paul Bryan for two of Jon's songs, "Trouble" and "Same Mistakes," while Jon remained a spectator near the kitchen doors.

When he returned to the stage as the others left, he remarked that in twelve years he'd never gotten a chance to watch one of the Friday night shows. "And it's pretty fucking great!" As he took up his guitar, Jon introduced the next song. "Flanny just suggested I do this one alone, and I had been thinking of doing it too ... so that shows it signifies something." He proceeded to play "Waterloo Sunset;" just Jon and the guitar on the old Largo stage, in the familiar room, dark with its islands of candle light on each little table, silent except for the clinking of glasses and bottles from the staff at the bar. And as I idly glanced down at my watch, I saw with a jolt that it was a little past 2:00 a.m. And I realized, oh fuck, this was really it.

But it wasn't; not quite. As the final note of "Waterloo Sunset" faded away, the applause began. People stood up, the din swelled, and Jon put down his guitar and attempted to collect himself for some final words. I wish I could remember more of what he said, but what I really remember is how he said it. It was a short speech; choked and emotional and sometimes hard to understand through the tears. It was about how much this place meant to everyone. Jon left the stage and headed back through the kitchen doors, and the audience kept up the standing ovation as "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House played over the house speakers. Soon Jon emerged, dragging a stilll-weeping Flanny out from the back, and pushing him toward the stage. They embraced, Flanny picked up a guitar, and Jon sat at the piano, remarking that we would be so pissed at Flanagan after this for never having played it before. A spare, gorgeous "All is Full of Love" followed, with Flanny on vocals. And that was really it.

But it wasn't the last time I'd set foot in Largo on Fairfax. As I said, we had a very busy Saturday.