Mason Jennings - In A K-Town Church

I got to see Mason Jennings again on Friday night in a church in Koreatown. I've seen him play many times, both out here and in Minnesota, but it had been a while, so was extra great to hear songs I've loved for a long time, played by just Jennings and his guitar.

A Friday night show in Koreatown that starts at 7 pm is nearly impossible to get to on time when you live in Venice, because traffic simply sucks. The Unitarian Church listed that as the show's start time, and said it again when I called. We raced there straight from work, but still didn't arrive until 7:45. A frantic search for nearly impossible parking revealed others rushing down the sidewalk, looking equally frantic and bummed. When we arrived at the church, everyone was all casual and said the opener didn't go on until 8:30. They were not very well organized. So now we had time to kill, which led to a tour of Koreatown that felt like a free vacation, so foreign did it seem as we traversed 8th Street past blocks and blocks of sidewalk food vendors that all smelled great. We wound up at the R Bar (after obtaining the password - IT'S ALIVE! - from the internet). Cool spot, cheap drinks, good food. We had some laughs and then hot-footed it back to the church to have entirely missed the opener, Lucette. They were selling drinks in the lobby, that we said we didn't have to slam, you could bring them with you into the sanctuary. What?! This felt somehow wrong, especially when folks were acting like it was a club, spilling drinks and leaving their glasses on the floor when they went to get new ones. Not very respectful of the venue. At all.

Anyway ... Jennings clearly still has superfans, and they all wanted to hear their favorite songs. From the moment he took the stage (altar?), requests were being shouted. He opened with "Wilderness" from his newest album, Always Been, which I just bought at the show so don't yet know. It sounded as good as ever, and the fans went nuts. I brought my friend, Amanda, who had never seen or heard of Jennings, and we laughed as she began to see how rabid some of the Jennings fans are. They LOVE him. "Adrian" was next, with the trusim line that goes, "Fear is where our hatred begins..." This was especially timely and poignant considering how the recent mid-term elections went. People very obviously - and stupidly - voted out of fear. But I digress ...

The whole congregation sang along for "Be Here Now", but many disobeyed that command by checking their phones and stuff, as they do, but the point was still made. The guy next to me had never seen Jennings live either, but had long loved his music after listening to it all the way across the country on a road trip. "I thought he'd have a white beard, and be older, like Sean Connery," he said. He does have that sage quality in his voice, but nope - he's a young, cool dude. The clap and shout- along was in full effect for "California" - always a crowd-pleaser when played here, even with the line about staying far away from L.A.

"Your New Man" is another one that's always a fan favorite, with its comedy about winning back an ex-girlfriend. As odd as it was to be at a show in a church (they must need the money or something?), I will say that the acoustics are fantastic. With only his voice and his acoustic guitar, the songs sounded exactly as they'd been recorded. Perfect. As was his sweet new song, "Rainboots". Another charmer, for sure. "The Light" was great as ever, and then Jennings introduced a new song, saying, "I read a lot ... I hardly ever write a song that isn't inspired by a book." Then he played "The Fisherman", but I didn't catch what book it was inspired by, as some girl was yelling about how he was a beautiful man - in church. The harmonica came out for this one, and got its own screams every time a note was blown. Superfans.

"Jackson Square" took us back to post-Katrina New Orleans, and then Jennings sat at the upright piano for "Bitter Heart", which he played beautifully, even though he said it was missing some keys (?).  Then it was time for a brand new one that Jennings said "Seems like it's against Florida ...well, it IS against Florida (ha!)..." and laid down "The Florida Song" as it's named for now. It was swampy, with a surf guitar vibe that he said was inspired by his Dad moving there, and True Detective. You'll dig it.

"Darkness Between The Fireflies" and "Nothing" were both as great as ever, and then Jennings invited out opener Lucette to join him for "Something About Your Love." Her voice and piano playing complimented the song perfectly, and the place was dead silent. Lucette got some new fans that night, including me.

Speaking of fans, a guy in front of me was so happy and so into it the entire time, that I just have to include him. His face was beaming like this all show long, and believe me, he knew every word to every song, and had no qualms about chiming in. Unusually though, it wasn't annoying, because it was clearly so sincere. I was just happy for him.

"Patti and Robert" was the song about Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe that was inspired by reading Just Kids. I hope Smith has heard it. The end seems to be sung as her, in a falsetto that Jennings doesn't usually pull out. Great. "Crown" and "Ulysses" were granted to fans screaming for them. Jennings said that he just recorded a 2 song EP with Stone Gossard of Pearl Jam, but of course all ten copies were sold out by the time I got there. I'm sure it rules.

Jennings was back at the piano for "Sorry Signs On Cash Machines" and then it was "Thank you very much" time. Fans yelled themselves hoarse, but Jennings was cool and quick about it, coming right back out to play "Big Sur" with its great (and timely again) chorus, "This is as song to give you hope!" Thank you. We need that.

"1997" is so visual, and tells such a story, as all of Jennings' (and all the best songs) songs do. Love it. Then Jennings said, "So, what's the last song gonna be?" The cacophony  of requests was deafening, but somehow Jennings managed to pick out "Fighter Girl" and play that as his finale. A standing ovation was his, as Jennings took his bow and promised to come out and meet people in the narthex.

I had to split so did not get to congratulate Jennings on his great gig, but then when I got home, I had a brand new song waiting for me from his brother, Matt Jennings. Matt and I have been working on a songwriting project for a couple of years now, with me on lyrics and Matt on amazing music.  Please enjoy this first listen of our new song, "Western Sky Home".

https://soundcloud.com/matt-jennings/western-sky-home

This world is blessed to have the Jennings guys. Their talents make the place a whole lot better.

Mason & Morning

I had a great time last night, followed by a magical morning. Let me tell you about it a little, won't you? No photos were taken, as they weren't allowed last night, and I don't like to bring technology along with me on my morning walk at the sea ... some things must remain sacred. (and a lot of my friends are turning into cyborgs ... more on that later). We're mostly all adults, and sometimes grown up books don't have pictures in them. We shall overcome.


Mason Jennings is one of our hometown (Minneapolis) heroes. I've seen him play a whole bunch of times, from us being the only ones there, 'til now when you sort of want to shush people singing along word for word. Last night at the Largo at The Coronet Theater, Mason played a show, just his voice, accompanied by his own guitar, piano, and harmonica. They're super strict there, from how you get tickets, to how you should behave. L.A. needs this whipping into shape, so I appreciated it. We didn't get tickets until the day of (surprisingly still available, but the Largo doesn't make it easy on you. You have to physically go there to buy them - drag - but those with the gumption are rewarded), and wound up with the four front row center most rad seats. Sometimes it feels like trying to be a decent person in life really does pay off.

Watching Mason play so close (you could hear his rubber soled foot tapping - that's quiet), it was like we had our own Hologram Ipod (listen up, Jobs!) of Mason, as his voice and guitar intricacies sounded EXACTLY like he plays them on record. That's not easy to do on acoustic, and he did. Our friend, Alta, had never heard him, didn't even know what genre (I love when you go into something knowing nothing - rare these days) he really is, and she came out of that theater saying, "He is a force of nature". For sure he is - but I'm getting ahead of myself.

The Hologram Mason played pretty much his greatest hits, from a wide span of his discography, but he was touring for his new LIVE album recorded at the best music club in the country, Mason Jennings Live at First Avenue. The crowd shouted out their requests (which I can't stand), all blurring into one din, until Mason would say, "Which one? OK.", and play whatever he wanted. "Lemon Grove Avenue". "Adrian". "Living In The Moment". "1997" (not about aliens). "The Light (Part II)" (perfect, deep lyrics that make you just sit back and process the wisdom behind them) were all played with just Mason strumming and picking his simple Martin, with exacting precision and total confidence, which I admire so much.

Then it was time to sit at the piano with visible internal organs/keys, crowned with a (fitting for a Minnesotan) Viking helmet. Watching the keys play so closely was mesmerizing, and "Sorry Signs On Cash Machines", a brand new song for an upcoming album called, "Bitter Heart" (which was great), and "Be Here Now" (another admonishment I use all the time to my cyborg friends) were all rendered gorgeously on the piano, to the point where the rowdier folks in the audience were silent too, just listening and picturing the stories being spun in the songs.

An old friend of Mason's reconnected with him and had an old tape of songs he'd sent her, prompting him to get his Dad to dig up a box of old recordings from his house. That giant bunch of songs were recently re-recorded by Mason with just voice and guitar, and the best ones made it on to a different new album coming soon, called The Flood. One of those was called "Dakota", and both its tempo and story took you all over the place, which again you (like words vs. pictures) could imagine in full golden afternoon-lit detail. Superfans/yellers were rewarded with their usual favorites, "Butterfly" (still awesome), and "Nothing" (same).

Back to the piano for another new one that illustrated the sense of humor ingrained in Mason's writing, called "I Think I Broke Your Clutch", which both asked and answered the questions of "Was it the freedom that freaked you out?" and "We can live in a dream ...". "Never Knew Your Name" was followed by "I Love You And Buddha Too" which got the yellers involved with their "Alright's" echoing Mason's (Sorry if I seem overly sensitive to this Mason school spirit, it's just so distracting and chalkboard fingernails to me. Like respect the guy/anyone you like enough to trust them to play whatever they want you to hear ...). "Your New Man" was still funny, and known by heart in the house.

The harmonica rig was strapped on for "Crown" which bled right into "Jackson Square" - again, both lyrical gems. "Anyone who says that life is clear, has never seen a mirror, or been to Jackson Square" - both super heavy, and extra true. Storytelling. I love it.

Blood Of Man is Mason's most recent rock album, and hearing its fine "The Field" played acoustic was certainly as effective, if not more so, in this understated fashion, with its questions about War, and our own hearts (lub-dubbed on the guitar strings). "Sing Out" was slow, quiet and questioning on the piano, so gentle that you could hear the pads of the piano keys being pressed (at least I could. Burn. Just kidding.). With that mellow thought provoker's end, Mason got up, said, "Thanks a lot!" and walked off stage.

Robust clapping and shouting brought him back, to a blur of requests being shouted, so he went into "Ulysses", "Jealousy" (classic and true) on his own, and finally, "Big Sur" as the ones yelling the loudest insisted, for the last number of the night. All classics, really. A standing ovation was a natural reflex, and Mason waved and departed for good. Then so did we, to a late dinner spent talking over the songs, playing, and history of performances we've been to, one of the most satisfying ways to end a show evening that there is. Natural stoke from good and meaningful music is a fine way to fall asleep.


A fine way to wake up is a long walk on the beach, even as we're sure Venice must now change its nickname to "Fogtown" (thanks, Jenny Evs!). First up, dolphins. Then a lanky, farm-fresh young man walking down the beach towards us wearing a "Free Hugs" shirt. I knew I'd be haunted by being a jerk all day if I didn't just open my arms wide when we passed him. We two strangers hugged without a word, and then he offered me a sand dollar. I have plenty, so I urged him to pass it along to someone who might not. It was one of the world's sweetest exchanges ever. Then I watched a guy all by himself, purely exalting at being in the chilly waves - jumping, yelling, and waving his arms, not caring who was looking. Right after him, a guy stopped in front of the lifeguard station we were standing on and saluted all four directions with a bow, then raised his arms up, brought his palms together, and back apart, in a gesture of thanks that was also pure and real. And a gratitude reminder that could not go unnoticed.

Carrying on, I finally found out the name and occupation of the beach regular guy we call "The Ultimate Fighter" (for obvious reasons): Alex. He's a professional wrestler. Knew it. Then we saw the little old lady who reminds us of the old guy from Up, with her adorable square-lens glasses, and informed her that dolphins were out there. She once said, "Isn't it wonderful?!" with a sweep of her arms towards the sea, and I hear that phrase every time I see her.

Right about then, I wished aloud that I would see the "Free Hugs" guy again on our way back, so that I could find out how many embraces the kid got. A short distance later, there he was! I asked, and after telling me that I was his first (starting the mojo, I'd like to think), but he got four more after me, for a total of five! This, in truth, kind of surprised me, but certainly encouraged me too. As caught up and cyborg as we are, and as suspicious as we can be of everyone just a wee bit different than whatever the norm is, people still look for - and find - human connection.

Music, or your regular morning, will give you that connection every time ... you just have to let it. And then EXALT in it. Fog or not.