It seems like it’s been ages since I saw Keaton Simons perform. Not because it’s been so long since he played San Diego, exactly, but because I just recently moved back and it has been too long since he played the San Francisco area, where I’ve been living. But, I digress. Thankfully, he came out Saturday night to play Josh Damigo’s CD release show at Lestat’s in Normal Heights with Jesse Thomas.
Just when I started to get antsy for the show to start, it did. Jesse Thomas, who’s considering adding the middle initial “B.” to her stage name to distinguish herself from a porn star with the same name, was the first to take the stage, starting her set with “Sidewalk Ends.” She sounds like the vocal love child of Juliana Hatfield and Dolly Parton with a speedy vibrato and soft, smoky tone. “Missed Connection” was next, followed by “You I Want.” When her beanie fell from her head mid-song, she kicked it back behind her without skipping a beat, later admitting that she doesn’t usually wash her hair, so it stays on better. When the audience laugh, she admitted, “true story!”
“Fire” came next, followed by “Already Mine,” during which she was accompanied onstage by Keaton. Her final song was an “ode to a douche bag,” she insisted, and then interrupted herself with a tangent about how she’d like to “retire the term ‘douche bag. Tonight.” She suggested “flounder face” instead, though it was just a random term she pulled from thin air. The song, “Leather Jacket,” was about people who try to impress with stories that are lame “and mostly made up,” and was my favorite of her set. Jesse’s humor is one of the best things about her set, though I enjoyed her music as well.
Next came the incomparable Keaton Simons, whose shows I’ve been attending as regularly as possible over the last six years because he’s so good that I just can’t get enough. Happily, he has new music he’ll be gracing us with soon, but he began with an older tune called “Lift Me Up,” followed by “Masterpiece,” which he wrote with Josh Kelley. In the middle of it, he strayed into a bit of Ray Charles’ “I’ve Got a Woman” and then Michael Jackson’s “The Way You Make Me Feel,” during which he got the crowd to sing along – I’ll be honest, I don’t always love a singalong, but this sounded amazing. Up next was “Inspiration,” a song about how you can’t force yourself to be inspired, you have to wait for it to come on its own.
Another song from the impending new record, “Beautiful Pain,” came next, and then old favorite “Unstoppable,” and then Keaton declared that he needed to “pick it up a little bit,” jamming out with “The Medicine.” After “Currently” came “Mama Song,” which features a bit of his strangely delicious throat singing (which I’m told is unbelievably hard, though all I know is how cool it sounds to me). After a quick congratulations to Josh on the release of new record Hope, he thanked the crowd and left the stage.
Immediately, Josh Damigo began his first song from the back of the venue, playing acoustic on a six-stringed banjo. The song was “Alright,” the first on the new album, and it was fantastic. The acoustics in Lestats are great, and as I sat there listening, I typed “I love him” into my notes. After, he made his way to the stage at the front of the room and said, “and now for something completely depressing…” Before he began the rest of his set, however, he briefly thanked Jesse and Keaton, explaining that he thought “Keaton has more talent in his pinky finger than most people have in their whole lives,” and admitting that “that’s why I was in the back… to make you feel awkward if you tried to leave.” The crowd loved him, partly because they know him: he plays Lestats on the second Saturday of every month. Beyond that, however, he’s charming, self-deprecating, and funny…and, more importantly, his music is nice to listen to as well.
He was excited to release his new album, naturally. He announced that he was going to sing it in its entirety from start to finish. I admit it: when he said “seventeen songs,” I looked at my watch. It’s a frequent bone I pick with musicians who get cozy in a sweaty room full of people digging their music, but knowing when to leave us wanting more and when to soak up all that ooey, gooey glory is important. Anyway, I appreciated the warning as Josh explained that he didn’t want anyone calling in the paramedics, “no matter how hot they may be,” so we should feel free to take breaks if we need them, go next door for coffee if we were falling asleep. (“Don’t want to sleep tonight? Get two coffees. If you want to sleep tonight, get decaf!”) Eventually, song number two (“Make You Fall”) began, and so the live performance of Hopegot underway. “Loving You is Killing Me” was next, with “Just Let Me Love You” after, and then “Portland,” which turned out to be one of my favorite of the whole album. It’s a sweet song, very wistful, sentimental and sad, and Josh’s sincere delivery was perfect.
Before he began the next song, Josh told the story of how he came be “urine-drenched” while acquiring the rights to Jim Croce’s “I’ll Have to Say ‘I Love You’ in a Song” – no, really, that was his story. There was certainly more to it than that, yes, but the gist is that AJ Croce (son of the late Jim) not only gave permission for Josh to record the song, but he ended up playing the piano on the record. It really was a lovely version of a song everyone knows and loves. “Slow Goin’” followed, which ends with a whispered “sex!” that made me laugh. “If I Had a Dollar” and the raw, emotional “Never Gonna Let You Go” (about Josh’s brother) followed. After “You Happened to Me” came “Every Night” and another favorite of mine, “LA is Not My Home.” After “So Far, So Good,” Josh proclaimed that there were “four songs left and we’re done with this stupid album!” I wondered if he might be regretting the choice to play every last track for us.
“Goodbye Lullaby” led into “Can’t Be Your Man” which features the line “your mama warned you ‘bout a street rat like me,” after which Josh paused to admit: “yeah, I stole that line from Aladdin!” The next song was written about a boy who bullied him in the fourth grade, and why no one should pick on a potential songwriter, because they’ll grow up to write a song about it and “Knock You Out.” The delivery was all cute little boy with his dukes up, ending with “mama said knock you out!” It was another highlight for me. The final song in Josh’s scheduled set was the track from which the album gets its name, about remembering that whatever you’re going through, someone else has been through it before (and/or has it worse). “It’s hard to think about hope without thinking about things that are tough,” Josh mused, reminding us all that we live in “a country where everything is possible if you work hard enough.” There are two things, Josh insisted, that are always within our control: our attitudes, and our efforts. “Find people, and tell them your problems. Your friends will help you through. If they leave, they weren’t real… you’re welcome. I got rid of a stupid friend for you!” Though I was more than ready for the evening to come to a close, the chorus of “Don’t Lose Hope” brought tears to my eyes all the same. Josh left the stage promptly after it was finished, wordlessly, and after less than a minute, the clapping died out and he returned, disappointed with the audience’s enthusiasm for an encore. (I’m quite sure no one expected an encore after a seventeen-song set, but perhaps I’m wrong.) The final song, “Pocket Change,” comes from Josh’s last effort Raw. As he finished, sound man Lou cranked up Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl,” and the audience mingled about laughing, gushing about the show to the performers, and yawning.
Do I think Josh could have picked his ten favorite songs from the new album and left us wanting more? Sure? Do I wish he had? Okay, maybe. But in the end, even if an artist holds me hostage longer than perhaps I would have liked, if his talent makes it worth it, I’ll shut up and stay. And that’s exactly what I did.