An Orchestra of One

Before I start tonight’s blog, I want to say that December 23rd is a special day for me, for reasons which will remain hidden. But the moment deserves a quiet call in the night, even if no one else will be out there to here it. Happy December 23rd.

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Friday night I had the good fortune of seeing musical savant and local hero Jon Brion perform at the infamous Largo night club on Fairfax in Los Angeles. It had taken me over a year in telephone calls and vigorous scanning of the online Largo schedule to finally score a reservation at the cult club, so you can imagine my elation when I received a confirmation call indicating that there were four seats waiting for me on Friday, December 22nd.

For those of you who don’t know the Largo process, it involves either scoring tickets in the aforementioned method which involves scanning the upcoming schedule and praying and phoning, or showing up the night of and hoping for a standing-room spot. Jon Brion’s customary Friday-night slot at the House-that-Brion-Built venue of Largo has reached mythic proportions, in an atmosphere charged with musical creativity amidst a host of celebrities and musicians who all clamor to get a glimpse of the genius of Brion. But Jon’s usual Friday-night shows were interrupted earlier this year by a worrisome case of tendonitis which had fans concerned. For months, Jon was M.I.A., so when he finally returned to the stage, the internet was abuzz with excitement. Still, Jon’s performances were sporadic at best; perhaps a single performance a month. Needless to say, the supply diminished while the demand only grew. Scoring seats at Largo on a Jon-Brion Friday night is tantamount to sitting next to Nicholson during a Lakers home game.

So me and some friends and family found ourselves sitting in the proverbial court-side seats in a tiny club, nestled in a Jewish community, across the street from the famous Cantor’s Deli. The standing room patrons get to avoid the prison food that is forced upon the reserved-seat crowd, but my suggestion is to stick with the honey chicken and keep your expectations low. You’ll forget all about the food before long.

Friday’s show was opened by comedian Paul F. Tomkins who puts on a subdued, but funny performance. Paul was followed by E, founding member of the Eels, who rivaled Paul in humour and in handle-bar-mustachery. Finally, the moment we were all waiting for.

Jon strolled to the stage, first casually playing with Mr. E. It was strange to see Jon apply his musical prowess on the simple G-C-D chordal arrangements of Mr. E, but I guess it was a good warm up, because as soon as he was alone onstage, the magic happened.

Jon’s show is fascinating for several reasons, not the least of which is its naked exhibitionist nature. To watch a Jon Brion show is a voyeur experience, giving you a fly-on-the-wall perspective of what it must be like to watch a genius to go to work at the office. For we’re not just watching Jon reproduce old songs and covers; he is creating before our eyes. Layering songs with complex loops, mastering all instruments at once… the creative ball of yarn in Jon’s head unravels brilliantly before us, and we simply watch in awe, swirling the music around our palettes like wine; tasting the deliciousness of the music. But Jon works without a net and, genius though he is, the complex frame he sets up could easily come crashing down. That’s what makes the performance so fun. Not so tonight: There are no slip-ups as Jon rips through most of his highly underrated debut solo effort Meaningless, and gets almost all the way through before moving on to other numbers. Each song is laid out with perfect execution and musical sincerity.

Eventually Jon starts inviting people to share the stage with him. The first of the cameo appearances is made by Hollywood actress Zooey Deschanel of Elf and Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy fame. As anyone who can remember Elf can attest, Zooey has a buttery singing voice that hearkens back to the angelic singers of the 40s and 50s. Together, Zooey and Jon channeled Les Paul through a variety of songs which delighted the crowd.

Eventually Jon called to the stage several other musicians, among them: Benmont Tench (of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers fame), the aforementioned Mr. E, Sean Watkins (Nickel Creek), Zooey and some lesser-known players. Here, the show slackened somewhat, but not before they performed spontaneous versions of “Billie Jean,” “Raspberry Beret,” and “Happiness is a Warm Gun.” So says John Lennon. For me, happiness is a warm seat at the Largo.

Honourable mention goes to Paul Tomkins for his rendition of “Ring of Fire” with lyrics about the Maccabees, and the celebration of Chanukah. And to Zooey who doesn’t know “Frosty the Snowman” as well as she would like, but no one cared.