Monday September 8th, at Slim's in San Francisco, Built to Spill played their seminal album Perfect From Now On in its entirety. And it rocked so many kinds of awesome that I literally passed out.
Alright, I have a few disclaimers to make first off, in order to justify my insanely good review of Monday night. First off, I am mildly biased against Slim's so any show that is impressive seems really impressive. Second, the whole night seemed impressive in the first place due to my preemptive and ever-increasing pot consumption. Third, and most importantly: our crew knew how to start off a night on the town the right way.
photo from Pizzaiolo's Yelp page
When pizza was suggested for dinner before the show, I had no idea that I was in for the treat that is Pizzaiolo. This place is great, simply put. Located in the neat little Temescal neighborhood, you wouldn't even know it's there, due to having no signage out front. It apparently doesn't need a sign though, since the former Chez-Panisse chef already has quite a respectable following. (Random fact: two doors down on the corner is the more affordably delicious Bakesale Betty's, whose owner is also -surprise, surprise- a Chez Panisse alum). The fabulous decor of Pizzaiolo is matched only by the quality of its food. The pizza was super thin crust style, made in wood burning ovens. I could have eaten a whole pizza to myself. If you order the Pizza Iolo then you get to be surprised by the kitchen, and you won't be disapointed (although I do not recommend this for vegetarians, obvi). And what did the wise masters at my table teach me at that meal? CHIANTI + PIZZA = CRAZY DELICIOUS.Good to know for the one who is on a poor man's budget yet refuses to sacrifice a proper pairing.
That meal, in and of itself, could have left me completely happy with the evening. But no, us fancy folks still had a badass concert to attend to. And, in my opinion, the sound ended up being great and Doug's voice was spot on. With the voice of an agonized adolescent and the body of an aging man, the music seemed even sadder and more nostalgic. Saying little, with closed eyes, jerking and bobbing his balding head in heartfelt emotion- it was like watching a strange therapy session and witnessing an unconscious regression back to painful puberty days. Now that I will pay money to see any day.
Now, after reading all this remember all the aforementioned disclaimers here. I really can't complain at all about an evening where you eat delicious food and then go listen to amazing music, and then when you go outside to smoke a cigarette complete strangers welcome you into their joint circle. A girl from Portland with Winnie Cooper bangs and her David Schwimmer-meets-grunge boyfriend schooled me on the ways of Quasi, saying "Listen to them at work." So, to that cool hipster couple: if by some random coincidence you happen to read this, thanks a bunch. You were the cherry on top of my already perfect sundae.
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