Grant Lee Phillips

Live at Iota, Arlington, VA, November 2 2001

Matthew Weiner

Sometimes the smaller venues pay off. Sure, your view can be obscured by a gangly 6'10" giant in the front who seems oblivious to the fact that the stage is so low off the ground. And at a really well-publicized show, you may wind up with a pint of beer down your back. But in special circumstances, you can be glad there's a cute twenty-something pressed-up behind you and it all works out for the best.

Such was the case with Grant Lee Phillips at Iota. Clearly, the buzz was in full force for GLP: there were so many people crammed into the tiny club that I wondered how the band would climb onstage, given that there's no stage entrance (indeed, after the set, the band climbed offstage, out the back door and directly onto the street, leaving many of us to wonder whether they would even be able to get back in for the encore).

As the only person in the audience in a denim suit and a giant white cowboy hat, Phillips was hard to miss as he and his two bandmates lept onto the stage. And for a guy who's music is pretty straightforward and sincere (Phillips even appears periodically to perform on the WB's Gilmore Girls), his onstage demeanor is that of quite the stream-of-consciousness ritilin-fuelled freak, often bursting into a hyper stage-patter. At one point, in response to several cries of "Yankees Suck!," he broke into an impromptu and hilarious Loudon-Wainwright-meets-Dan-Fogelberg ballad, entitled, "Why Do You Hate the Yankees?" (Clearly he hasn't spent much time on the East Coast or he'd know why). Indeed, such antics, likely refined at his recent and extended stint at Los Angeles' famous Largo nightspot, might have masked a lesser musician's weaker material.

Thankfully though, the focus throughout the evening was clearly on Phillips' emotive country and pop troubadorisms; weak they were not. The first half of the night was dedicated to songs from his most recent (and excellent) record, Mobilize, performed with his trio in a more roughly-hewn manner than their studio versions. To make up for his more streamlined outfit, there was much instrument shuffling throughout the evening as one of his bandmates played everything from bass to Dylan-esque harmonica to mandolin. And though a primarily acoustic setting, touches of fuzz-tone bass and guitar—as well as a big beat or two—exploded periodically, inciting much booty wiggling. Highlights were many, most certainly "Fuzzy" (of Phillips' late, great Grant Lee Buffalo), as well as the new record's thumping "Spring Released" and "See America," which boldly—and successfully—nicks a few choice licks from Bowie's "Space Oddity." And Phillips' voice, which extends from an oddly spot-on Bono-baritone to a airy and yearning Brian Wilson whine, was ably dexterous throughout.

The show wasn't perfect: he lumped together much of the Grant Lee Buffalo material midset; at some point, these songs, less overtly melodic than his more recent material, began to sound a bit samey, much as if you were trapped at a No(Exit)-Depression Conference between Ryan Adams and Jay Farrar during a Paul Westerberg seminar. And devoid of the studio polish and electro whizzkiddery, some of Mobilize's beauty wained somewhat. But while some in the audience were grumbling of his newfound singer-songwriter bent, Phillips repeatedly proved that he's one of those rare birds who can capture all of pop's mystery and majesty in a single three-minute song. And he played quite a few of those.

Related resources

Grant Lee Phillips has an official site with all the usual features: tour information, sound clips, a biography, and photos.