YOUR SHOW OF SHOWS

Schlepped on down to the Lower East Side tonight to the Abrons Arts Center to see a holiday show featuring a great line-up with two acts in particular, Dean Wareham and Britta Phillips and Chocolate Genius. I’ve loved Luna for years and think the new stuff Dean and Britta are doing is fluffy and fun—not as great as Luna—but worth seeing live. Chocolate Genius ((Marc Anthony Thompson) is just someone who’s music I fell in love with since reviewing his first LP almost ten years ago. I’ve never had a chance to see him live.

Show started at 8pm, thought for sure it’d be packed. The performance was actually in the Harry Du Jur Playhouse, this tiny little space built in 1915 connected to the Arts Center. It couldn’t have held more than 300 people, and maybe half the seats were filled. It was like a show I’d go to back in college, something in a warehouse that didn’t get much press (later I saw it was previewed in that week’s New Yorker), had some volunteers working the door (just a couple of kids) and cost next to nothing ($20). I got some seats near the front, and waited for Cara to arrive from the village where she’s been at work all day—still sick. Dean and Britta go on play a nice acoustic set with a guest on marimba and throw in an Xmas tune. Cara shows up and sees two of their songs and that’s it, a four-song set.

A Jewish woman, the host (whose name escapes me) who’s also an author of some regard, reads a chapter from her book on why she didn’t want a Christmas tree in her house when her Australian Christian husband suggested one that year. Huh.

Bunch of folks leave, Elysian Fields comes on and plays this torchy three-song set with a tune in the middle that’s absolutely stunning. Their version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Xmas kills.

Dear Elysian Fields,

What on earth was the name of the second song you played at the holiday ball, the one with the piano accompaniment?

I have a strong desire to hear that repeatedly.

Thank you

It’s so quiet in this place that between songs you get embarrassed making the slightest noise, all except the two slobs eating cracker snacks out some crinkle-nightmare noise bag.

People leave up front. Cara and I moved down to the front row. We sit through an angsty emo rock set by The Honorary Title that features no Xmas songs but some fun stage talk and painfully earnest performances.

Chocolate Genius is last. He looks grumpy. He plays a version of Silent Night on the piano that ends with

Look what they’ve done in your name.
Look what they’ve done to your name.
Look what they’be done with your name.

He does two more songs, dedicated one to Cara and “Snot” when she coughs/sneezes. He hardly looks at the audience, like Van Morrison when he was young. He leaves. It’s over. There were less than a hundred people by the end.

Exactly the sort of bizarre event I moved here for. Probably one of the most intimate, engaging and strangely arranged shows I’ve ever seen. Personally I think there should be more review shows with more acts and fewer songs. They kept it simple and acoustic the whole time. It felt right sized.