Ellis Paul at McCabe's, 5-24-26 Concert Review

Ellis Paul

Last night marked the end of an era of sorts, as Ellis Paul played his final full show with the guitar affectionately known as Guinness. Yes, after fifteen years, a lot of shows, a lot of travel, and some bumps along the way (some damage caused by United Airlines), the guitar is retiring. It will soon be, at least for a time, hanging in the Folk Music Hall of Fame in Boston, where it has certainly earned a place. And Ellis Paul explained to the audience at McCabe's last night just why it was fitting that this guitar's final full show should take place at that particular venue. For, while not purchased there, the story of this guitar did begin there. More on that in a bit.

There was no opener for this show, and right at 8 o'clock, Ellis Paul took the stage. The man who introduced him mentioned something about the guitar, and so the audience was of course curious. "This is the last gig I'm ever going to do with this guitar," Ellis told them. "This is like Michael Jordan's last basketball game, like Pavarotti's last concert," he joked. And he opened the show with "3,000 Miles," which felt especially fitting, this guitar having traveled many more miles than that in its fifteen years. The audience, knowing the song, sang along. Afterward Ellis remarked that everyone sounded good. He then strapped on his harmonica for a sweet, pretty rendition of "Rose Tattoo," one that featured some excellent work on that harmonica. "If I ever lost you/I would be lost too." Seemingly simple, yet powerful and meaningful lines, ones that strike right to the heart of things. And, hey, we all need someone to say, "Hey, I've got your back." Just before the end of that song, Ellis gently teased the crowd, "You're so damn quiet, you're so very quiet, I can't believe how quiet." He told them he was going to fade the song out like in the 1970s. "Some of you remember," he said, then, looking at the audience, amended it to, "all of you remember the '70s."

Ellis Paul then told the story of Guinness, how the story of that guitar began with the story of another guitar, a guitar he spotted at McCabe's one day before a show. It was a guitar he fell in love with, but which cost $7,000. A guitar he felt he couldn't afford, but which would not leave his thoughts. And so the next time he was in town, he had decided it would be his. But when he went to the case at McCabe's, the guitar was no longer there. It had been sold. To Neil Young. He promised himself he'd never let another guitar break his heart. But it wasn't long before he was at a venue in Oklahoma, a place apparently similar to McCabe's (I haven't been there), and there he met the guitar that would later be named Guinness. The price tag on that guitar was $10,000. He wasn't going to do it, not until he got word that Neil Young was going to be stopping by the place. If you're familiar with Ellis Paul's music, you know he's a great storyteller within his songs. But he's also a great storyteller, period. Let me explain it this way: the story received applause last night. And I think people there appreciated the part that McCabe's played in this story.

When Ellis announced his next song, "Kick Out The Lights," there were cheers from some folks. It was clear they were ready to sing along, or shout along, as the case may be. This song has always had an audience participation element, though it has changed in recent years. It used to be that the men would sing "Kick out the lights," and the women would sing "Johnny Cash, Johnny Cash, Johnny Cash." Now Ellis sings the "Kick out the lights" line by himself (along with, perhaps, a few of us who were too well trained to completely let it go), and everyone - men and women and anyone in between - shouts out "Johnny Cash, Johnny Cash, Johnny Cash." It's always a fun song, a crowd-pleaser, and last night it featured some very cool stuff on guitar toward the end. That was followed by "This Is Where All Good Trees Go," a song that he only plays at McCabe's. It was a song he improvised one night here many years ago, and then, unlike most improvised numbers, it was one he actually remembered the next time he visited southern California. And so it found a regular spot in his McCabe's set lists. He played it unmiked and in the audience. Before the song, Ellis told the story of Elizabeth Cotten playing the first show at McCabe's, a story I'd learned only a couple of hours earlier. For those who are curious, there is a new book on the history of McCabes titled Live At McCabe's Guitar Shop: Santa Monica's Legendary Music Venue (I need to pick up a copy when I have a few extra dollars).

Ellis stayed in the audience for the next couple of songs. The first of those was "What Could A Horse Do," a song written about a veteran suffering from PTSD. The line "It went dark, it went dark, it went dark" was especially captivating, gripping, the way he delivered it, just a whisper by its last word. Ellis then mentioned that he feels the world is a mess right now and so he's decided to end every song on a ninth chord, and explored a bit the effects of the sound of those chords. The other song he played within the audience was "Gold In California," a song about Big Sur. When he was introducing it, a guy shouted out that he was married there. "I love it like it's my home town/But I wasn't born here." The audience sang along on the words "in California." Ellis then returned to the stage for "Holy," which he played on the upright piano. If forced to pick what I think are Ellis Paul's best songs (and no one is forcing me to do that), it would be "Maria's Beautiful Mess" and "Holy." They are certainly not just among his best songs, but among the best songs by anyone anywhere. "Holy" often has me in tears. It's beautiful and hopeful, and it works a certain magic on us, because it plays on what we know of the outcome with the hope of the character. If you haven't yet heard this song, I highly recommend purchasing a copy of his 55 album. Not only is this song on it, but also "Gold In California" and "When Angels Fall" (the latter a powerful song addressing school shootings).

"Alice's Champagne Palace" was next, a song about a place in Homer, Alaska. Once upon a time this song too mentioned Los Angeles, but "L.A." has since been dropped from the line "If you're from New York, L.A., Dallas." But it's still a great song. It was followed by another of my personal favorites, "You'll Never Be This Young Again," a song that reminds us to go after our dreams, no matter what our age, no matter where we are in our lives. It's not too late, friends. And even if you don't need to hear that message, it's still an absolutely wonderful song. Ellis had still more to say about McCabe's: "If I could play this place every week, I would, and I would take my payment in guitars." Okay, let's arrange that. I would love to be able to see him on a weekly basis, like I was able to do back in the late 1980s and very early 1990s. He followed "You'll Never Be This Young Again" with "I Ain't No Jesus." "The only miracle I've seen is I can call you mine." Ah, yes! He then concluded the set with a cover of John Prine's "Angel From Montgomery," performed unmiked in the audience, the audience singing along. A really nice moment. The show ended at 9:30 p.m. Interestingly, rather than calling out for an encore (it was clear there wasn't going to be one, as Ellis had to get to Lares for mango margaritas before 10), some folks asked for the explanation of why Guinness was being retired. And so Ellis explained about the cracks, the damage to the guitar, and how it sometimes goes out of tune. Well, everything sounded great at this show. Guinness went out in style.

Set List

1. 3,000 Miles
2. Rose Tattoo
3. Kick Out The Lights
4. This Is Where All Good Trees Go
5. What Could A Horse Do
6. Gold In California
7. Holy
8. Alice's Champagne Palace
9. You'll Never Be This Young Again
10. I Ain't No Jesus
11. Angel From Montgomery

McCabe's is located at 3101 Pico Blvd. in Santa Monica, California.