Nellie McKay

Largo - July 12, 2007

Live Review by Joe Cortez

A confession: It is the duty of the critic to be objective in reporting what is, ostensibly, an honest opinion, using all of the facts and evidence at his or her disposal in doing so. It is with this in mind that I inform you, dear reader, of my unabashed admiration for one Nellie McKay. Despite the fact that she has yet to attain household name status, I deem her to be our most important contemporary singer/songwriter, with a songbook that dazzles the imagination and touches the heart with depth, soul and wit. In short, she is everything I as a music fan have been waiting for. No matter how many times I’ve seen her live, I still greet every new performance with the kind of anticipation and excitement that first met me as I stood in line one Sunday night in March of 2005 at the Roxy. Perhaps it’s because there an almost inherent guarantee that no two (or ten) Nellie McKay live concerts will ever be the same that creates such devotion amongst her most ardent admirers. True, she can be restrained, as she once was in her early performances, relying on a fairly predictable set list out of necessity but, even still, there has always been restlessness behind her gee-whiz veneer.

It’s this same restlessness that imbues her albums with genre-defying compositions. Prior classifications that attempted to peg her down as a cross between Doris Day and Eminem now seem archaic and dismissive. And yet there is one categorization that she cannot escape, a categorization that is as open ended as it is pigeonholing: New York singer/songwriter. Her music very much captures and contributes to the crash and class of the Apple. As such, it is always fascinating to see her away from her native shores and always a pleasure to witness her adapt to the most casual of venues.

L.A.’s Largo is known for its impossibly intimate atmosphere and lousy parking. With its dim lamps hanging overhead and night club décor, such an environment is entirely appropriate for McKay, considering the way in which she engages the audience through both her music and words. It’s the kind of venue that invites the talent to let their guard down and be humbled by having to wade through the audience as they make their way to the stage. And so it was with Nellie; as the crowd cheered her like a monarch, she entered a commoner.

Cutting through her own adulation were the chasing piano lines of “Oversure” which segued subtly to a jazzy gem of a new tune, both of which are featured on her forthcoming long player, Obligatory Villagers. The set openers, along with several other new tracks that were auditioned, showcased a developed thematic range. If her debut Get Away From Me was a declamatory rallying call for her social and political views and the follow up Pretty Little Head an introspective look at the psyche of the woman, Villagers may prove to be her most daring work yet, combining the consciousness of her early work with a strong lyrical emphasis on theatricality and storytelling.

The evening was a well balanced mix of old and new.  Adding a nostalgic element, she interrupted her own set by getting up from her piano bench throne to play classic covers on her ukulele, a moment which has now become an endearing interlude for many of her more recent shows.

Although it is reassuring to hear the often jaded Los Angeles audience respond positively to McKay and her antics, it seems unfortunate that her reputation as an entertainer precedes her, as the Largo audience chortled and chuckled when McKay broke from her performance, engaging in a dialogue that is equal parts scolding and satirical. True, the girl is very often funny and songs such as “I Wanna Get Married” and “Won’t U Please B Nice” feature scathing wordplay that cuts like a sincere dagger, but I find audiences often use laughter as a means to diffuse the impact of her words and write off her woes as the ramblings of just another loopy leftist. Such a reaction also seems to anticipate a far more ironic subtext that seems more forced upon by the audience than is actually present within her.

Following her set proper, McKay emerged from the back with an encore performance of “Clonie,” eliciting a riotous reaction to the lyric, Should’ve signed with Verve instead of Sony, you’re my Clonie. Leaving her public ever wanting more, she retreated once again to a world of mystery and shadows (read: Largo’s kitchen).