I had the honor of being in the audience at the Davies Symphony Hall in San Francisco Friday night for an historic concert: Rickie Lee Jones performed her first two albums, in their entirety (minus one song), in the original track listing (unless she felt like moving a song here or there). Her first album, “Rickie Lee Jones” was released in 1979 and netted her five Grammy nominations and a Grammy win for Best New Artist. Her second album, which by no means suffered from the dreaded "sophomore syndrome," was the sweeping, symphonic/ jazzy “Pirates.” It was the material from these two recordings that made up the evening at the Davies.
I have seen RLJ in concert five times over the years and this sixth concert was an interesting treat. She has performed many of the songs from these two albums on past tours, but some have not been heard live since their initial release. Striding out onto the stage in a bright red beret (a direct nod to the cover of “Rickie Lee Jones”) and towering platform shoes, she and her band launched into “Chuck E.’s In Love” without any fanfare. There was a mix problem with the sound for this first song… thankfully, whoever was at the mixing board realized that, in a symphony hall, a lot of amplification is not necessary. We bebopped our way through her first record with her. I teared up during the delicate, exquisite "On Saturday Afternoons in 1963," and we all swooned on the ghostly and lovely “Last Chance Texaco,” complete with her chilling passing-truck sound effect (twice!) at the end of the song.
I expected that she—and we—would take an intermission break before heading into “Pirates,” but she took her place at the piano and she and her band began the grand, epic “We Belong Together.” It was an ambitious venture to play both albums back to back, and it took its toll on her and the band. Her horn section and band took turns playing solos, but a little while later, it was clear everyone was sagging. This is the first stop on a world tour for RLJ and I have a feeling the band was still in a bit of a dress-rehearsal mode. A full third of the way into “Traces of the Western Slope,” she made the band stop and start again, saying, “We just got off on the wrong foot,” (and by her own admission after the song, she said, “We shouldn’t play such a hard song so late in the set...”). I have been listening to these songs for thirty plus years, and it has never been brought so clearly to my attention that RLJ’s music is actually quite complicated. The bebop/ jazzy tunes are straight forward enough, but her lyrical/ ballad/ epic songs feature a never-ending cavalcade of shifting time signatures. And now that I have seen a drummer struggle to play these pieces (“Watch me for this
entire song,” she teased the drummer), I have a new-found respect for the musical/ arranging ability and song-writing prowess of RLJ, and the musicians who play these songs. She
was tired though, and began to leave out words, sometimes skipping whole lines of choruses. And the evening ended without the sweet, magical “The Returns” which closes “Pirates.”
Having said this, I do not want to give anyone the impression that the performance was sub-par or not entertaining. RLJ has always had a living, vital sense to her performances which are not simply mere reproductions of studio recordings, but true, organic musical events. This give and take, this start-over method only serves to imbue her, and consequently the evening, with the sense that we are witnessing someone carve and craft music before our eyes. We are watching someone paint a masterpiece, we are seeing someone chisel marble into a monument. Every RLJ concert is like a fingerprint—unique, singular, and perfect in its own essence.
Thank you Rickie, for the years of gorgeous, inspiring music and a legacy of fantastic live performances.
http://www.rickieleejones.com/
