Mon, April 28, 2003

The music of Brooklyn-based indie rock band They Might Be Giants is among the chief passions that define me. I'm composed almost entirely of unconditional loves, but my unconditional love for They Might Be Giants, like my unconditional love for Spielberg, controls me completely and also provides an easy shortcut to understanding me. Unlike Spielberg or any of the others, however, my fanaticism for They Might Be Giants is almost entirely silent. A handful of those who know me are aware that I like them, although I don't talk about it that often. I just buy the CDs, enjoy them immensely, and that's about it.

I don't go to concerts, because I'm just not really a concert guy. I don't really dance, and I don't like rowdy audiences, and I almost always prefer the way it sounds on the record anyway. So, I guess it's a testament to my TMBG fandom that I went to one of their shows. It helped that it was a joint venture with McSweeney's, a literary journal and online writing archive that I enjoy reading from time to time. As a result of their collaboration on a volume of the journal, They Might Be Giants and McSweeney's had created the "McSweeney's vs. They Might Be Giants" show, which incorporates some readings by McSweeney's contributors and some songs by They Might Be Giants.

This took place last Thursday on the UCLA campus, about five hours before I was due to get on a plane. Some of the readings and some of the songs were directly from the collaborative issue. But a few of each were independent. Sarah Vowell read an hilarious and insightful essay about touring Salem, Massachusetts, and Dave Eggers (McSweeney's editor, co-creator, and famed author of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius) read/performed an original work of his about sexual and social bewilderment in pre-teen boys. Both were engaging and fantastic, and we also heard a moving love story from the talented and honey-tongued Zadie Smith, whose story had appeared in the McSweeney's journal. Peppered among these were performances of TMBG songs. Then, after an intermission, They Might Be Giants rocked us for the better part of two more hours.

During the intermission, it was discovered that amidst our fellow concertgoers were writer/etc George Plimpton and actor Joey Slotnick (The Single Guy, Hollow Man). Knowing that these two appreciated the unmissability of the evening as much as I did was truly a gratifying feeling.

After the intermission, They returned to perform some songs from their latest album, "No!" as well as some all-time favorites like "Birdhouse of Your Soul" and "James K. Polk." The concert-going experience was more than worthwhile because of the energy and enthusiasm of guitarist/vocalist/co-founder John Flansburgh and the adorability of keyboardist/vocalist/co-founder John Linnell. In general, the vocals seemed to be drowned out by the instruments, which is probably a concert reality but it was a shame because their lyrics are so entertaining. All of the songs were fun, as well as a great feature they do where Flansy (as he refers to himself in the near-weekly email he sends those of us on the TMBG list) dials through a radio live onstage and the band picks up whatever song they hear and improvises a riff on it. Very impressive! I was proud because it displayed so clearly the Johns' musical genius that I respect so much in all of their albums. My fellow concertgoer (a TMBG-doubter) was certainly won over by that performance.

Also a steal at twice the price of admission was Flansy's rant on motorists who drive in the breakdown lane in heavy traffic. You had to be there, but his impassioned dicta and the interplay between the Johns was absolutely delightful. They're lifelong friends and have been making music together for nearly a quarter-century, and for me there's something positively gleeful about that. I am particularly impressed with the duality of their relationship, personally and professionally. While Linnell is a savant at the architecture of building a song, and all the classical rules of music, Flansburgh is a maverick who enjoys bending and breaking the traditions. Linnell is reserved and shy while Flansburgh is a rambunctious, energetic showman. While Flansy is jumping around with his guitar and shouting at the top of his lungs, Linnell stands stationary at his teal keyboard table. It's the key to their perfect music and it's what enables their appeal to the teenaged rockers who wanted to mosh at the foot of the stage as well as those of us who preferred to remain seated and enjoy the concert quietly.

After the show, which concluded (second encore) with a live version of the "Fingertips" miasma that wraps up their album "Apollo 18," the band and the spoken word participants were available for autographs. Autographs is also something I don't do that much any more. It kind of feels fakey and dumb to need written proof of an experience that you shared with someone. However, they were signing the autographs anyway, and this happened to be a big group I really liked so it seemed worth it to make an exception.

By the time we left the auditorium, the line stretched out the door because of attendees who either left at intermission or before either of the two encores. As I mentioned, I had a flight to catch, so I was understandably nervous. Fortunately, someone from the venue approached the new mob and provided a "band only" line. This wasn't ideal, because I like Dave Eggers and the others a lot, but I figured I was a crazy fan only for TMBG, so it was worth the sacrifice if it meant a shorter line and more time for dinner before the airport.

One thing that I try to do when I talk to celebrities, especially celebrities I'm crazy about, is to have something prepared other than "you're so super-great!" In this case, there was a new MP3 on theymightbegiants.com that I was going to query Flansy about, but I also wanted to mention what a shame it was that we were forced to choose. Since Eggers was only four feet away, I figured if I boisterously lamented UCLA's construction of a true McSweeney's vs. They Might Be Giants competition for my adoration, maybe they'd see their way to adjusting that strategy. Any other night, I'd have stood in both lines, but there was a plane. I sacrificed the MP3 question, but it paid off. After signing my copy of the McSweeney's book, Flansy said "Make way! They Might Be Giants fan!" and fed me down the rest of the line.

This meant I had to do some quick thinking about what to say to the others besides "you're so super-great!" (In high school some friends and my sister and I had a chance to attend a concert by the late Shari Lewis – and Lamb Chop – and also a private reception for her backstage afterwards. Having been so impressed by her energy and her relationship with her young audience and how much she meant to them, I wanted to express my admiration, but didn't really have a chance to approach Ms. Lewis one-on-one. However, we were nearby as she was being rushed from the room by her handlers and so we had a chance to shake her hand as she was being hustled away. I quickly said "It was an inspiration," which it was. And Shari, already ten feet away, stopped. This took considerable effort considering two large men were clamped onto her shoulders and walking toward the door. But stop she did. And turn, and look me right in the eye. And say "Thank you." Since then, I've always tried to live up to that standard of celebrity interaction.) Fortunately, I had prepared a little while waiting in line. There are always plenty of things to say to Dave. And I had noticed that Zadie's story had originally been longer than its final form, so that was at least something to chat about with her. Sarah was the only one I didn't have something specific in mind for, but I had an idea. She was the only one whose work wasn't represented in the book that I had, and I could see where that might seem strange for her. However, it was the McSweeney's vs. They Might Be Giants book, so it sort of stood for the evening. I planned something like "I know you're not in here, but we all shared the evening together so we're all signing it like a yearbook."

Well Flansy was a hero, so that was fun, and Dave enjoyed my banter. Zadie was absolutely precious and very kind. Sarah was having none of it. She wanted to sign something else. Actually, it looked like she wanted to bite me but would settle for signing something else. I offered up my cell phone because it seemed like an ironic choice, but she said no to that. So, she ended up signing the program and I blurted something about enjoying her on Letterman (which I do), which served to make me seem too uncultured to enjoy her on "This American Life" (which I do). Oh well. .750 for the night, can't complain about that.

All in all, a terrifically enjoyable evening. I heartily recommend attending a They Might Be Giants show if they come to your town. You positively can not be disappointed. My enthusiasm for McSweeney's was reinvigorated and my love for John and John and all their brilliance was renewed and renewed again. Plus, Flansy signed my book!

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