Beacon 09/14 (part deux)

["weapons of mass destruction-related program activities" <spamtony>]

So, what's the deal? No one posts reviews here 
anymore? (Don't make me go over to the cunty 
Yahoo group...) 

So anyway, yeah.... 

I apparently missed 100% of the promotion and hype 
indicating that the Beacon would be anything but 
another "12" show. So it took me some time to 
readjust all my radars. 

The goal of the evening was apparently to present 
music and reminiscence in tribute to Fred Smith 
with an all-star lineup of accomplished musicians 
who would keep the proceedings a step or two above
bar-band, which they most certainly did. Unfortunately,
big parts of the evening lacked a certain spark. 

Not for lack of fire or effort or skill. At times, 
Patti seemed short-tempered with some unspecified 
gremlins (she also seemed to be taking them out on 
poor Tony Shanahan, but then, I was watching from 
some distance) and/or out of breath. And I'd love 
to have a Luis Resto permanently installed in my
parlor, playing piano for me. Ooh!

(Perhaps part of the problem was proper sound 
presentation. I started my evening in 10th-row 
Orch (right-Center, only the 4th seat off the 
aisle), where I thought the sound left something 
to be desired, and I eventually moved up to front 
row Loge, where the sound was pristine, forceful 
and in your face (fortunately I moved up there
in time for "Cash", my favorite song off 
"trampin'") and with that move, Jay Dee and Patti 
emerged from the murk, with Luis Resto restored 
to his proper place. The Beacon really does eat 
sound for breakfast.

But then, perhaps part of the problem was also 
room vibe. Lots of weird, angry people down in
front: folks were marching up aisles and demanding 
others sit. Lots of flashlights shining in my 
face, over and over. Lots of folks with apparent 
ADD afflictions getting up and down and going back 
and forth over and over. (I felt like channeling 
Colbert: "Pick a side! We're at war!") When a janitor 
came up the aisle with a mop to the front row - twice - 
that's when I decided to try my luck upstairs in 
one of the "cheap seats" I bought.)

During the encore she made a couple of 
uncharacteristically large gestures - perhaps 
finally finding the size of the room? - once 
windmilling to get her guitar, and once to get
Jay Dee to take "Pissin in a River" over the 
top - which he did, after which Patti followed 
suit herself - OH!! Absolute killer moment, and 
highlight of the evening for me. Manipulative? 
Maybe. Do I care? NO!!! 

Perhaps tragically telling, she confessed near 
the end of the show to finding that the evening 
seemed to go by too quickly - and it felt exactly 
that way to me, too. For all the flaws and 
miscalculations, the evening did not drag. As 
much as it's probably true that I should have
witnessed the show with eyes and ears less 
accustomed than they are to "We Three", BTN, 
and "Frederick", it's also true that Patti 
should have had an opportunity to feel the room 
and relax and have a do-over with the umpteen-zillion 
years of musical experience sitting on stage 
behind her that she had at her disposal. But 
unfortunately, life (and showbiz) does not work 
that way. That's where the magic and tragedy both 
come from, I suppose. 

Anyway, final verdict: Did I feel lucky to be there
and in the universe as it was happening? Absolutely. 
Do I feel it could have been more than it was? Yeah. 

S.O.S (Some other stuff): 

* I liked that Patti fessed up to hating Paul Simon's
  "Graceland" album, and skipping "Within You Without You" 
  when playing the Sgt. Pepper album. Given her fondness
  for Nirvana, I think we're pretty sympatico musically. :) 
 
* Luis only had the benefit of a "real" piano for the first
  part of the set - the two songs up front. He almost knocked over
  the electric job Tony usually plays. 

* Can anyone conform that the "Jack" who played banjo and also 
  guitar last night was Jack Petruzelli (sp?) of Fab Faux and 
  Rufus Wainwright fame? I saw Rufus this Summer in what turned 
  out to be one of Jack Petruzelli's last shows with him. 


I'm not any good with setlists, but here's a rough
approximation of the evening. I will not defend
any of these mental recollections to the death. 


Going Under
My Madrigal  (both with Flea and Luis Resto, Patti in 
             black slacks, white shirt and tie) 

[seven-minute pause. Lights stay down]
Gone Again
[out of order, now] 
Are You Experienced? (w Flea on trumpet) 
Dancing Barefoot 

[back in order] 
Ghost Dance  (w Rich Robinson) 
Boy in the Bubble (w Rich Robinson on dulcimer) 
[Tony moves upstairs. Hi! Yes, I'm sitting here. Fuck you.]
Cash 
[out of order, again] 
Within You Without You
We Three 
Southern Cross
BTN 
Frederick 
Smells Like Teen Spirit (w Jack on banjo, Flea on trumpet, and 
                               a cast of thousands) 
PHTP (with entire guest lineup, incl. "Zeke") 

[encore]

Pissin in a River
My Generation  (w Flea and Tony both on bass) 
Bableogue/RnRN  

[pause, basking]
Farewell Real (w Jesse Smith on a ukelele presented by Jackson) 
[Jackson re-emerges for family photo-op. It was sweet. So sue me.]