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.

Hardly Strictly San Francisco

Last weekend I took Friday off and headed to San Francisco for the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival. With an impressive lineup, a pricetag of $0, and a beautiful setting in Golden Gate Park, it was hard to pass up. The fact that I have superbly hospitable friends living on both sides of the park sealed the deal.

Friday was a lovely day at the festival, though it started and ended a bit chilly. Our brigade arrived early to camp out in front of the Banjo Stage and took in acts that included plenty of the "hardly" in Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. Augie March started things off, playing a relatively short (but enjoyable) set. They were followed by Buddy Miller and his band. I was pleased to see Buddy's cover of "Rock Salt and Nails" in person. T-Bone Burnett and friends came next, with an eclectic mix of friends indeed - Doyle Bramhall II, with whom I was not familiar; Neko Case, with whom I am quite familiar; and John Mellencamp, who is ... John Mellencamp. They ended the set with an all-star jam version of "Pink Houses" - a song I certainly never thought I'd see performed live by its original artist, let alone with backing vocals by Neko Case.

Friday's final act on the Banjo Stage was a fellow by the name of Jeff Tweedy. He played a very nice set of songs, and we were pleasantly surprised that the set went half an hour past the scheduled stopping time of 7:00. ("We" included the charming SF locals plus the welcome additions of Judy and family - yay babies! - and British import Andrew.) We were more than happy to get up and dance for the last couple songs of Jeff's set, and not just because we were freezing. The finger picking at the end of "Acuff-Rose" sounded right at home in that setting. We rounded out the evening with Best Burrito Night Ever, a trip down Lombard Street, and an illicit late-night visit to the Yoda fountain.

Saturday found U and I taking a break from the festival to fly a bit further south, meeting up with Heidi to check out that one guy we like to see at Largo. Due to bluegrass commitments Heidi was the only one to do the the Friday/Saturday Jon Brion double-header, but I'm glad we were able to make it for Saturday night. U and I also had enough time to hit up Farmer's Market and indulge our Pinkberry cravings once again. So much sooner than I expected to get my next Pinkberry fix! Jon's show that night probably won't go down as one of my all-time favorites, but it was a solid, enjoyable night of music. Ben Gibbard joining in for a few songs was a nice surprise, and we saw a lot of piano material from Jon. My favorite part of the night had to be the set-closing "Nowhere Man" in the style of Les Paul. A rather evil way of granting that request, indeed.

Sunday we were back in San Francisco in time to eat dim sum and arrive at Golden Gate Park before Earl Scruggs began his set. Andrew had become a HSBG crowd celebrity in our absence, staking out the best spot that day and earning an infinite number of hardcore fan points. We were only too happy to join him and bask in reflected glory. Earl Scruggs played a very enjoyable set - I kept feeling like I should be seeing him and his band at Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa or somewhere similar. And again, who ever thought I'd see the theme from The Beverly Hillbillies performed live by its original artists? Earl was followed by Doc Watson - who, though it's really impossible to compare him with Emmylou, may have been my favorite act. I loved his stories and his songs, and feel very fortunate to have seen him perform.

The finale of the night - and the festival - was Emmylou Harris. I'd never seen Emmylou before, but this may have been the perfect setting for my introduction. She looked beautiful, of course, and she has such an amazing voice. Her choice of material was inspired, and the crowd - stretching as far back as I could see - ate up the performance. A lovely ending for a lovely weekend. Overall, the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival impressed me immensely. The atmosphere was unlike any other festival I've attended - much more relaxed and, well, just good-natured. If all festivals could be like this, I would attend a lot more of them. As it is, I hope to make my way back to San Francisco for another HSBG in the not-too-distant future.

More photos here.

Let's have a ball

I had a great birthday weekend. Friday U joined me, piloting The Boat. We both managed to get some work done (her way more than me) and also Ate-a-Pita. Then Maudie and Trish arrived (yay!) and eventually we headed to Largo for my Jon Brion birthday show. We had enough people to fill both of our tables for four. I looked over the new menu items, but I'm still all about the Largo salad. Ditching an old standard dinner choice at Largo can be fraught with peril.

Jill Sobule opened for Jon, accompanied on most of her songs by Greg Leisz on pedal steel. It was my first time seeing either of them, and I wouldn't mind doing so again. Jon came on around the usual time - freshly back from England, according to Flanagan - and proceeded to play for about three hours without a break between sets. Happy birthday to me, indeed. U is, of course, the JB setlist queen, but I can mention some random highlights. Very early in the set, Jon gave us a little crash course and demonstration of all of his pedals and what they do, which I loved. I'm astoundingly clueless when it comes to gear, and Jon's nice, succinct summations of each pedal's function ("This one takes a sound this big and adds something this big down here") were very informative.

The first half of the set was, I believe, pretty much Jon's own stuff. I particularly adored the harmonica and toy piano (celeste?) version of "Knock Yourself Out". Then for the second half, Greg Leisz came back out on pedal steel, and Benmont Tench was called out to play piano. I was so happy to see Benmont. Favorite Benmont moments of the night: his solo during "I Don't Hurt Anymore"? Maybe? I can't remember now for sure, but I do know that I had a stupid grin on my face the whole time. Also, the part during another song (damn, I'm bad at this) when he started throwing some little celeste accents in along with his standard piano work. In the covers department, there was a lovely rendition of "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", and a healthy dose of Beatles covers, including a sort of guitar riff medley by Jon. I also thoroughly enjoyed "Gigantic".

After the show, as we were leaving the club, we noticed a commotion a few doors down that was preventing us from walking to our car. "Hey, that ho-bag in pink. That's Paris Hilton," U said with a touch of horror. The ho-bag in pink stalked into a club, and we were able to pass.

Saturday's weather was absolutely gorgeous. We brunched at Hugo's, and then headed to the Getty Center. I thought the Getty was great: awesome views, impressive architecture, beautiful gardens, interesting water features, and of course, art. For free. I had no idea what special exhibitions were going on until we arrived, but one turned out to be paintings of Caspar David Friedrich and Gerhard Richter. Gerhard Richter is one of my favorite painters, so I was extremely pleased. There were also some excellent photography exhibitions. After an hour or two of art, we grabbed some drinks and spent a long time soaking up the perfect weather on a grassy slope overlooking the gardens. Children tossed paper airplanes and had rolling contests down the hill. I chose not to dwell on the fact that I'd be back in the Wisconsin winter the next day.

Saturday night, after some Persian/Irish ice cream, we saw ASSSSCAT at the UCB Theatre. Jello Biafra was the guest monologist, and he was fairly entertaining, if also fairly self-important. The improv was very funny. (I'm limbering up for the Second City marathon next month.) We finished up the night at an excellent cafe in Los Feliz, on Evonne's recommendation. Trish's friends joined us, and we hung around until closing time.

And then on Sunday I came back here and it was 40 degrees. The end!

How do you lose a room?

Wednesday night was my first non-Friday Largo experience, which was quite different, to say the least, from a typical Jon evening. Uyen and Evonne and I checked out the Greg Proops chat show, and a good time was had by all. Greg's guests included Ngaio Bealum, Grant Lee Phillips, Drew Carey doing a 3/4-assed Lindsey Lohan impersonation, and Margaret Cho. Everyone was hilarious (well, Grant Lee Phillips just sang pretty). I couldn't begin to detail the random turns the evening took, but politics, the TSA, LA traffic, and marijuana played a large part throughout. The night ended with Margaret performing a sultry burlesque dance with pasties on all six of her nipples as Grant Lee Phillips played. You kind of had to see it.

Tonight U & I followed up my second day of 12-hour shifts by stuffing our faces with Korean BBQ. I'd eaten salads for my previous three non-breakfast meals in preparation, which turned out to be a good move - I was actually able to walk out of the BBQ joint under my own power. We wound up the evening at Cup o' Joy, where I tasted my first boba. It's tea! It's chewy! It's chewy tea!

"Next outro!"

Having a wonderful time in California; wish you were here.

Really. It's been great. Can't beat the company (Heidi, Judy, Paul, Uyen, and sometimes Evonne and/or various McCormicks) especially when Uyen has been chauffeuring us around L.A. hotspots in our soccer mom minivan. Hell yeah. I don't have time to do a full rundown at the moment, since we're soon to head off for the farmer's market, but Friday night's Jon Brion show was awesome. You really haven't heard "Ring of Fire" until you've heard it done in the style of Les Paul. (I might also add that I'm not sure if it's just the bands I tend to go see, or if the song is THAT popular, but Jon marks the fourth or fifth time I've seen someone - who is not Johnny Cash - play that song live.) He also did a fantastic set of song outros.

Saturday was a day of fine eateries (including Randy's Donuts), Manhattan Beach, and San Diego. And a lovely-sounding concert at the Spreckles Theatre which actually included a really silent audience, contrary to some people's beliefs. At least from our area's perspective. In fact, almost too silent - virtually no singalongs. Sunday we were back in Hollywood, and ate at the original Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles. I officially can't come to LA without eating at one now. I got a tote bag from Amoeba, too. The concert last night was more fun than San Diego, I think, and I will never get tired of the singer/drummer banter onstage. Nonstop entertainment. Then on to the Standard from there. Awesome chairs in the lobby.

Then there will be today, and then home again tomorrow. Horribly early tomorrow.

I Heart LA

I am currently on Fairfax outside Largo, and I'm not wearing a coat. YAY!

--

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Nice pants, Robyn Hitchcock

On Friday evening, Gina and Uyen and I had dinner reservations at Largo for a night of Jon Brion goodness. As usual, we got even more than we'd bargained for. Our table was in a good spot - straight back from the stage, but near the bar area ... nice view of the performance, and prime people-watching. Jon played a great first set, with Grant Lee Phillips (dressed like a retired guy vacationing in Florida, if you can picture that) sneaking up on stage to help out a couple of times. One of the most amusing moments came when Jon segued from a toy piano cover of "Norwegian Wood" (part of the "ice cream truck music" portion of the set) into a groovy piano-based version of "Let's Get it On." I also really enjoyed "Ruin My Day" and "Walking Through Walls." I do love it when Jon lays down a drum track. You don't necessarily know what's coming right away, but you know it'll be good. (He also gets major points for having 'Max Headroom' request some Van Halen to close out the set.)

During the second set, Jon rotated even more friends onto the stage. Grant Lee Phillips returned to sing and play a few songs with him, and Robyn Hitchcock was summoned in all his lime-green pants glory to play a few as well. Fiona Apple came up and sang one of her new songs with Jon on guitar, which I enjoyed very much. She is an extremely tiny person. (She is also very into her new boyfriend, whom she joined at the booth next to ours after she was finished.) Sean and Sara Watkins from Nickel Creek rounded out the evening. Mmmmm, Jon Brion shows. I'd include more detail about what was played, but that's Uyen's forte.

In addition to the night at Largo, we had a great time in L.A. Earlier on Friday Gina and I went to Santa Monica. We spent a few hours on the beach, where I reacquainted myself with the waves of the Pacific for about an hour and a half, and then proceeded to get sunburned in some weird stripey pattern on my upper arms while soaking up the sun. Hmmm. We had lunch on the pier. Saturday Uyen showed off her skills as a tour guide, and we saw all the neighborhoods we could have hoped to see. We also had lunch at Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles (I was a veteran this time) and hit our second Amoeba Records of the trip. My cashier was a very cute-in-a-rocker-boy-sort-of-way transplant from Chicago, with relatives in Wisconsin. He slipped some free Amoeba swag into my bag. (Which isn't a euphemism.) Nice! Now I'm at home, and should have a few more photos to share soon.