Aimee Mann

Last night, we went to see Aimee Mann. The concert was the last in the Wall Street Rising series, of which the Blind Boys of Alabama show I discussed Tuesday was also a part.

A child of the '80s, I first knew Aimee Mann for her MTV "Voices Carry" fame. I lost track of her until her haunting but hummable sound track for Magnolia. (Every time I have seen her perform, she has reminded the audience that she lost an Oscar to "Phil Collins's cartoon monkey song." You can't blame her for being bitter.) It wasn't until someone gave me a ticket to see her interviewed at the 2002 New Yorker Festival, however, that I really started to pay attention. She was articulate and funny, while also grumpy and exasperated with the music industry, and played some great songs from her then-new album, Lost in Space. I've been a devoted fan ever since--especially after her cameo on Buffy the Vampire slayer. ("I hate playing vampire towns.")

Last night only increased my fandom. It was a great show. The Tribeca Performing Arts Center is a relatively small space-only about 900 seats--and we were in the fourth row. After she and her band came out, Mann explained that this was their last date on a long tour, and they were ready to have some fun. Lucky for us! The band was in great form. She was really entertaining and goofy--one thing I really like about Aimee Mann is, while her lyrics are often cynical and downbeat, on stage she cracks a lot of jokes (while still remaining cynical.) One of her running themes was, "Are you all here because the Ryan Adams tickets were gone," along with, "This is a free show--do any of you know my songs?" I assume she was kidding, as, while her fan base may be small, it is rabid. Mann played a lot of songs from her more recent album, The Forgotten Arm, along with some older tunes. Then she asked for requests, setting off a unintelligible babble of voices. Claiming she couldn't make anything out, Mann said "Our preferred form of requests is paper airplanes. I hope you came prepared." The audience had, in fact, come prepared. Soon the stage was littered with paper airplanes carrying the names of songs. Mann seemed a little surprised by this response, commenting "I can't believe you have these supplies. These are on notebook paper. Who brings a notebook to a concert?" Some yelled back, "This is New York," which was kind of obnoxious, but, well, also kind of true. (Obviously it's completely true that the concert was taking place in New York. It's kind of true that New York is full of people who carry around notebooks at all times, just in case inspiration strikes.) The band soon abandoned the set list and attempted to fill the requests, although Mann often didn't remember her own lyrics; it was somehow really charming to see her try to get through her own songs. The show ended with a short encore and the fans on their feet in appreciation. It was one of those rare shows where everyone--the audience, the performers, even the tech guys--seem to be having a great time. And best of all it was free and for a great cause. How often can you say that?