Concert review: Dean and Britta
I spent a half hour on hold with Ticketmaster until I could speak to a human being who happily allowed me to get a refund on three very expensive Billie Eilish tickets. The show was supposed to have been at the Forum last month, but is still in the postponed puragtory. Yet another blessing in disguise for this pandemic.
See, I can't stand Billie Eilish's music or her cynical focus-grouped persona. I only bought the tickets back in the fall of last year so we could take the wee one to a proper show. Thankfully, wee one's music tastes have dramatically improved. All it took was a few weeks at the School of Rock and a steady indoctrination of good music by her parents. She was already "over" Billie by the start of the new year.
Having met David Lowery and some other Camper members at Pioneertown, February saw her meeting Britta Phillips at the Teragram. It was the type of show that kept a steady build until the end where they really rocked the house.
Luna was the last live show we saw.
Until last night.
Dean and Britta did an hour-long set from their home to benefit the Rental Affordability Act. I wish I could have donated more to the cause, but freelance gigs are hard to come by at the moment. If you have some to spare, consider donating to help get this on the ballot in California at Rent Control Now.
Since they played at 7PM PST, I decided to turn Casa Brown into a supper club. That night's special was roast pheasant with root vegetables. I had a cab with it, and the lady had a beer, which kidlet noted was the opposite of what Dean and Britta were imbibing.
The experience of watching the live stream wasn't quite the same unique feeling of anticipation that only comes from being in a club a half-hour early so you can get a good standing spot, two drinks in, clutching t-shirts and poster merch. A too cold club that will become too-sweaty by night's end. A club with idle chatter that soon becomes a rush of applause the moment the band hits the stage.
But it was in the ballpark.
121 of us were there waiting to get in, so to speak. I think close to 600 people "attended," when all was said and done. I used airplay so we could watch on the larger screen.
Their set consisted of a mix of Galaxie 500, Luna, Dean and Britta songs as well as a few covers including the Bee Gee's "Massachusetts." They always have a knack for choosing covers, better than most other bands I can think of,
Here are some short iPhone snippets.
"Knives from Bavaria." Britta's voice is lovely as always.
Halfway through, the sun started setting and was no longer in their eyes. The performance was intimate as if we were hanging out with them in person on the other side of the room. But there was also a mesmerizing profundity to it. I kept thinking that for months now we've all been carrying the weight of the times on us. Literally nothing is routine. And yet it was somehow very reassuring and inspiring to see them doing what they do best.
I think "Ceremony," was their finale.
I'm curious to know what their experience was like performing this way without a crowd response. Granted, this was a benefit show, and in between songs they urged people to visit Rent Control Now so it wasn’t the same thing as being on stage. I imagine it was hard to read the scrolling list of comments from fans. Perhaps they checked back later to see the responses.
There were a lot of responses, too. How could there not be? As fans there was no way we could not respond. The three of us kept taking turns leaving comments, even as we foolishly clapped after each song's end like the two could hear us from our living room. We wanted to let them know somehow that their songs were still reaching us loud and clear.
I suppose it's no less foolish than going outside at seven to clap for the first responders and nurses. Although in my case it is, because we face a marina so the only thing I'd be clapping for would be yachts. Yay rich people! Keep on…being rich!
As far as concerts go during these unprecedented times, it was fantastic. I do think even when we emerge from this and are finally in the clear, it would benefit clubs, especially the smaller ones, to offer this type of experience for people who might not otherwise be able to attend.
Like if I move from L.A. which might happen at some point, I'd miss going to the Teragram just as I missed the Bowery Ballroom, the 40 Watt and La Tulipe when I left New York, Atlanta and Montreal.
If I could pay ten bucks instead of twenty-five to watch a high res livestream from a distant club, I would absolutely do so. I know I'm not the only one.
It's been a joy getting a vicarious thrill out of kidlet experiencing the same music I did at her age. It's personal. Even sacred. This is especially true when it's on vinyl. Not because of the sound quality, but the physical act of putting the needle on the record while looking at the album cover.
Luna inspired art:
"Despite all the amputations you could go just go out and dance to that rock and roll station and it was all right."
Even if we can't go out right now, at least we can still listen to the music. Maybe some lives will be saved by rock and roll, just like Lou sang.