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Don't let this turn into a Smothers Brothers show!
During intermission, I realized that the show was going to run later than I had anticipated, and I walked out of the theater to get some fresh air and find a phone. In the lobby, I saw Aimee Mann, looking . . . well, Mannish, I suppose. I also happened to get spotted by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wintercolours who was not attending the show, but was passing out flyers for a Common Rotation concert. I called work, let them know I'd be tardy (I was to be thirty minutes late), and headed back for the second act.
John Flansburgh quickly enjoined everyone who didn't like their seats rush to the front of the theater. I thought I could hear the House Manager cringe ass all of the exits became blocked with bodies, but everything ended up fine. Since Father and I had seats only a few rows back, the most we did was stand up.
There was a nicely varied set list, for which I was glad. Father only really knew TMBG from Flood, which I have had for a very long time, and which he once made a copy of for his own personal amusement. "I like the Istanbul song," he was fond of saying. Like many concerts, it's since turned into mostly a blur; it's harder still to recall which songs were played since TMBG songs regularly infest my head without being played live. They played, in no particular alphabetical order: "Birdhouse in Your Soul," "Clap," "Dead," "Doctor Worm," "Drink!," "In the Middle, In the Middle, In the Middle," "James K. Polk," "John Lee Supertaster," "Man, It's So Loud in Here," "Older," "She Thinks She's Edith Head," "Why Does the Sun Shine?" and probably some stuff I forgot. All rocked. I was particularly impressed by "John Lee Supertaster" because I'd never really been all that impressed with it before.
It was pretty fun the way the evening switched gears from withdrawn This-American-Life-y amusement to a great big rock show. Suddenly, my dad in sport jacket and UCLA alumnus necktie seemed rather out of place. (Sure, I wasn't a model of blending in my work chinos and collared shirt, but at least I have rock-star hair.) I was a bit sad, though, that the authors from Act I didn't return for any sort of reprise. They seemed to have been having a good time, particularly Eggers, and I would have loved to see what else they could have done together.
Toward the end of the show, John Linnel introduced "Particle Man" and even seemed to start playing it when suddenly he realized that Flansburgh had started fiddling with the radio. "Oh you want to do the radio thing now?" he asked. "You'll probably want to switch to the keyboard [from the accordion]," was the preoccupied response. They should have stuck with "Particle Man." The bit sank like a stone weighted down with a lead statue of Marlon Brando. Frankly, I blame this city's radio. The public stations were all playing news at the time, most of the private stations seemed to have commercials, and the Johns weren't really able to work with the many, many Spanish-language stations on our airwaves. Sadly, the best bit was an interminable introduction for some talk show guest which had started before the station was found, went on for about thirty seconds and still wasn't through when Flansburgh moved on. After salvaging the moment with the afore-introduced "Particle Man," the band was apologetic. "That's why they call it hit-or-miss. Sometimes it's a miss. If it were always funny, you'd know it was fake."
The encore was "Pillow", with an audience participation consisting of a wave of boos extending to the high balcony. "I don't think you're expressing enough anger," chided Flansburgh. "Think back to the radio bit, and let it all out!" After he was satisfied with our performance, Linnel told him how he intended to play the song, creating an odd feeling of deja vu, because that was exactly what Flansburgh had been explaining to us for the past five minutes. "[Insert entry title here]" The show closed with a wonderful performance of "Fingertips," a song [cycle?] that has always held great fascination for me.
I enjoyed the show, and I'm glad Father did as well. I drove to work with visions of fingertips dancing in my head (which made it look like the poster for M*A*S*H was doing a can-can line, really). I am a little worried aboutwjukknibs not showing up, though. I hope he's all right.
[Editor's note: Apparently, LJ spellcheck recognizes "deja" as a word, but not "vu." That's so vury helpful.]
wintercolours who was not attending the show, but was passing out flyers for a Common Rotation concert. I called work, let them know I'd be tardy (I was to be thirty minutes late), and headed back for the second act.John Flansburgh quickly enjoined everyone who didn't like their seats rush to the front of the theater. I thought I could hear the House Manager cringe ass all of the exits became blocked with bodies, but everything ended up fine. Since Father and I had seats only a few rows back, the most we did was stand up.
There was a nicely varied set list, for which I was glad. Father only really knew TMBG from Flood, which I have had for a very long time, and which he once made a copy of for his own personal amusement. "I like the Istanbul song," he was fond of saying. Like many concerts, it's since turned into mostly a blur; it's harder still to recall which songs were played since TMBG songs regularly infest my head without being played live. They played, in no particular alphabetical order: "Birdhouse in Your Soul," "Clap," "Dead," "Doctor Worm," "Drink!," "In the Middle, In the Middle, In the Middle," "James K. Polk," "John Lee Supertaster," "Man, It's So Loud in Here," "Older," "She Thinks She's Edith Head," "Why Does the Sun Shine?" and probably some stuff I forgot. All rocked. I was particularly impressed by "John Lee Supertaster" because I'd never really been all that impressed with it before.
It was pretty fun the way the evening switched gears from withdrawn This-American-Life-y amusement to a great big rock show. Suddenly, my dad in sport jacket and UCLA alumnus necktie seemed rather out of place. (Sure, I wasn't a model of blending in my work chinos and collared shirt, but at least I have rock-star hair.) I was a bit sad, though, that the authors from Act I didn't return for any sort of reprise. They seemed to have been having a good time, particularly Eggers, and I would have loved to see what else they could have done together.
Toward the end of the show, John Linnel introduced "Particle Man" and even seemed to start playing it when suddenly he realized that Flansburgh had started fiddling with the radio. "Oh you want to do the radio thing now?" he asked. "You'll probably want to switch to the keyboard [from the accordion]," was the preoccupied response. They should have stuck with "Particle Man." The bit sank like a stone weighted down with a lead statue of Marlon Brando. Frankly, I blame this city's radio. The public stations were all playing news at the time, most of the private stations seemed to have commercials, and the Johns weren't really able to work with the many, many Spanish-language stations on our airwaves. Sadly, the best bit was an interminable introduction for some talk show guest which had started before the station was found, went on for about thirty seconds and still wasn't through when Flansburgh moved on. After salvaging the moment with the afore-introduced "Particle Man," the band was apologetic. "That's why they call it hit-or-miss. Sometimes it's a miss. If it were always funny, you'd know it was fake."
The encore was "Pillow", with an audience participation consisting of a wave of boos extending to the high balcony. "I don't think you're expressing enough anger," chided Flansburgh. "Think back to the radio bit, and let it all out!" After he was satisfied with our performance, Linnel told him how he intended to play the song, creating an odd feeling of deja vu, because that was exactly what Flansburgh had been explaining to us for the past five minutes. "[Insert entry title here]" The show closed with a wonderful performance of "Fingertips," a song [cycle?] that has always held great fascination for me.
I enjoyed the show, and I'm glad Father did as well. I drove to work with visions of fingertips dancing in my head (which made it look like the poster for M*A*S*H was doing a can-can line, really). I am a little worried about
wjukknibs not showing up, though. I hope he's all right.[Editor's note: Apparently, LJ spellcheck recognizes "deja" as a word, but not "vu." That's so vury helpful.]
i live vicariously through you
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(hmm. I went to London because of a live show. Should I plan a US trip around one too?)
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current mood: fresh