In the Heights: "96,000"

I saw the original cast of In the Heights last year in New York with my friend Bethany. It was stunning. The energy of the rapping musical blew the doors off the house. YouTube cannot do justice to live theater, which is why I don't often indulge my showtunes addiction here. But you know what? Screw it. It's Friday. And this performance from the 2008 Tonys is sooooooo good.

Extra points if you spot the subliminal Alec Baldwin.

Adele: "Someone Like You"

I'm obsessed with this song. It's off Adele's second album, released this year and immediately met with an exceptional amount of critical praise, especially considering it's her sophomore album. The sophomore album is typically a black hole where artists struggle to balance successful elements of the first album with expectations and predilections for the future. But not Adele. The radio simply cannot get enough of her. Even this song, which is a total downer about seeing an ex much later in life when they're doing better than you, has set the airwaves on fire. She's expected to sweep the Grammys in February, though she already won two in 2009 for Best New Artist and Best Female Pop Vocal Performance*.

So we're all obsessed with Adele (last name Adkins) this year. Why? It's not because she's writing songs about things we've never heard before; she talks about love and loss and empowerment and depression. Been there, done that. No, we're obsessed because she's an incredible. fucking. singer. Simply unmatched. And singing is really, really hard. It's not just notes and rhythms -- it's tone, attitude, presence. Once you master the technique, you still need to mean the words you sing.

Yesterday we looked at a Gaga performance, the choreography of movement, the coordination of outfit, the presentation of a character. Adele does none of that, but her performance is just as sophisticated, just as refined. She just leaves the batshit crazy part out of it.

The first minute of this video is spent with Adele, talking about the song and its meaning. The performance begins around the one minute marker, and it's a little slower than the album version -- all the better to draw out the notes, linger, suffer through them again. She gesticulates, her arms pushing the air with her hands as she pushes the notes with her breath in tandem, shaping the notes with her fingers. More force for more difficult runs, keeping time. She doesn't hit the high notes of the album version (possible evidence over her intermittent voice troubles), but everything she sings is soaked in power and regret.

Standing in her living room, younger than seems possible given her wisdom, one of the best songstresses alive performs for the whole world. This is what YouTube is for.

* It seems like they're getting pretty specific with these categories, doesn't it? I wonder who won Best Male Non-Pop Cello Performance, or Best Hermaphrodite Harmonica/Bass Drum Combination Performance.

Lady Gaga: "You and I"

It's Wednesday. I need me some Lady Gaga.

First thing's first: Lady Gaga is not a musician. She's a performer. I mean this in the most complimentary way, as she goes beyond delivering good music to delivering an entire experience. Consider the scene: She's performing on The View for a middle-aged female audience that probably associates her music with their kids' generation. Gaga shows up in an almost traditional Houndstooth suit, complete with pearls and matching hat and purse (though she couldn't resist the matching Houndstooth face paint). She sits with the gals and politely, eloquently discusses everything from gay rights to drug use.

Then she gets up to perform, and somehow even a Houndstooth-patterned piano seems par for the course with Gaga. Rocking Houndstooth sunglasses, she perches on the bench, leaning into the Houndstooth microphone, singing directly to the audience and her "View" hosts. She takes her sunglasses off, then her hat, then she uncrosses her legs to get a better handle on the piano pedals. She growls to the audience -- "Come on!" -- and stands up, shoving the piano bench back, pounding the keys. And then she picks up the microphone and abandons the piano altogether, singing the bridge sans accompaniment (though the unseen band backtrack plays on). She returns to the piano for the final chorus, and then finishes off the song as she poses on the piano, flipping her skirt up to make sure enough leg is showing. Her stockings are Houndstooth as well. It was beautifully choreographed. As if you already couldn't take your eyes off the Houndstooth, Gaga's performance ensures you can't look away.

The song itself speaks directly to the listener -- "you and I," Gaga twangs, "there's something about you and I." Apparently her lover is a whiskey-swilling, Nebraska-bred boy for whom she's returned to claim as her own. It's pure fiction, but she sells it with details -- "six whole years" and being swept off her feet with Neil Young's "A Heart of Gold." She pounds her Houndstooth piano and pleads with the audience as if she really isn't going to leave the cornfield until she's convinced this guy to come with her. Where will they go? Back to her home in New York?

And why are they in Nebraska? I was excited to play this song for my true Nebraskan grandparents, but they were underwhelmed. The song's not really about Nebraska, of course; "Nevada" rhymes with "I love ya" just as well as "Nebraska." It's not about the location, though this song will likely still go down as "one about Nebraska," proudly played in bars from Omaha on the east border to Scottsbluff on the west. "Nebraska, Nebraska, I love ya!"

If you haven't yet, be sure to watch the legit weird music video for the song. There's a mermaid and some kind of alien robot and Gaga making out with her male alter ego. There's an entire film dissertation somewhere in the subtext of that video, but in live performance, we don't have to process any of that. Just focus on the Houndstooth, the perfectly timed crescendos of intensity, the acts of performance.

Joe Cocker: "A Little Help From My Friends"

Friends,

Welcome back to Dai(ly) Jams! We (that's the royal "we")* took a hiatus after Lollapalooza in August, but we're back and ready for a steady, daily stream of good live music old and new.

The leaves are changing, jackets and boots are on the rise, school's well into session, and this weekend was my third college Homecoming. I took Friday off work and spent a long weekend in Evanston, just a few miles north of my home in Chicago, but it felt like a whole other world. An autumnal, purple-tinted, fantastically gorgeous other world full of marching bands and football and Seth Meyers. It was also a reminder of what an incredible group of people I got to attend college with. It's easy to get wrapped up in life and let friendships slip, especially the long distance ones. But sharing this weekend with friends scattered about the city and the country, reminiscing, catching up -- it was Wildcat heaven.

As for the game itself, there were some fantastic moments -- except the secondary and the coaching and the butterfingers, oh my. It was the typically exciting Northwestern football game, and I screamed and growled and pretended to play trombone for hours on end. As a result I sound a lot like Joe Cocker when I answer the phone at work this morning. So we're kicking off the fall Dai(ly) Jams season with Mr. Cocker and a tribute to friends. My friends do much, much more than just help me get by. Hugs and growls to the entire Northwestern University community -- I hope you all had a happy Homecoming! Go 'Cats!

* But actually, if you're interested in writing a day a week (or even a day a month), let me know at daijams (at) gmail.com.