Septembering

Apparently I was the luckiest man in the Fillmore last night. People were asking $100 a ticket to see the Decemberists, but somehow I scored a face-value ticket just moments after I arrived at the venue. I sort of felt bad watching people leave in frustration. It's not like I'm a huge Decemberists fan -- a dear friend recently sent me a copy of Picaresque, and I thought I'd follow up by checking out their show. My amigo and his amiga were there, and I ran into two more friends inside. Good company, fine music.

We hung out in the poster room during the first act, but emerged just in time to see Petra Haden's ten-piece female choir -- the Sellouts -- commence their nearly-full-album cover version of The Who Sell Out, an album I pretty much know like the back of my hand. Familiarity with the record apparently helped -- most of my companions thought it wore thin rather quickly, although the big hit "I Can See For Miles" seemed to get a big response. Haden's group eliminated four songs from Side Two, jumping from "Miles" straight through to "Sunrise" and "Rael", but otherwise did everything -- the fake ads and station identifications included. They vocalized the drum parts when necessary, made backward guitar noises on "Armenia City In The Sky", and nailed the "Love-love-love-long" bit in "Our Love Was, Is". An incredible performance in many ways, although I'm not sure I'd ever want to stand through it again.

Anyway, the Decemberists. I wasn't totally sold on Colin Meloy as a frontman on record. I liked his historical fiction, but wasn't sure about his nasal, Neutral Milk Hotel-esque vocal tics. I really warmed up to him at the show, however. He emerged as a sympathetic character rather than what I feared -- a vain, self-absorbed love-me type -- and approached the mic with wit and charisma. I found the occasional circus/carnival instrumentation engaging too. At some point in the tortuous, 18-minute first song, I felt like I was watching a band that could do anything it wanted to. And while the goofy theatrical stunts could have been corny -- making everyone sit down and be quiet, performing a brief re-creation of a light-saber battle from Star Wars, and bringing out a giant whale, possibly made of cardboard, for the grand finale -- I thought they were funny rather than distracting. I had the impression it was somewhat like a Jethro Tull show in the 1970s.

Oh, and while I was down there, I got myself some tickets for the double bill of Calexico and Iron & Wine. Based on the description on the Web site, it seems like a can't-miss proposition. New record out today. I'm on it. Will discuss soon.


FMFM: Speaking of two terrific artists getting together, Stan Getz's 1963 date with Laurindo Almeida is kicking my butt. Recorded just two days after the Getz/Gilberto classic? Wow. It's actually a little closer to Jazz Samba -- which is to say, not necessarily a step down.