As singer-songwriter Andrew Bird welcomed “The Pitt” composer Gavin Brivik to the stage at Largo at the Coronet, the room seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
Then, the reverent sound of a looping violin broke the silence. A pair of acoustic guitars chimed in, and suddenly we were transported to a fictional Pittsburgh hospital to relive our collective heartbreak over a beloved character’s death.
“All I know is you need someone, in the by and by, you need someone who’s gonna cry for you,” Bird crooned, eyes closed, voice nearly breaking with emphasis on the aptly titled “Need Someone.”
In the company of Bird’s loyal fans and “The Pitt” collaborators — including actor Ernest Harden Jr., who played Louie Cloverfield, the character “Need Someone” was written to send off — the weight of those words hung heavy. It was a testament to an intimacy fueled by shared experience, the kind stoked both by live music and watercooler television at its best.
Musician Andrew Bird performs a benefit concert with “The Pitt” composer Gavin Brivik, not pictured, at Largo at the Coronet, raising money for mental health organizations for healthcare workers.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Intimacy was key to the sold-out “Andrew Bird and Friends” concert, which took over Largo on Saturday to benefit mental health organizations for healthcare workers. (While the specific organizations have not been announced, Bird told The Times his team is deciding between four potential beneficiaries.)
“Need Someone” is the first and only original, lyrical song to appear in “The Pitt,” HBO’s award-winning drama series spanning a shift-in-the-life of emergency healthcare workers in Pittsburgh.
Taking a break from studio sessions and an orchestral tour to celebrate the song and the story behind it with a benefit concert at Largo, his Los Angeles “home base,” made sense to Bird.
“I think what ‘The Pitt’ is helping us all with is the PTSD of the pandemic,” Bird told The Times, “and how we all have a bit of collective amnesia about the whole thing and haven’t dealt with a lot of what happened.”
Onstage, he added, “I can’t think of a TV show that’s been as helpful or as healing.”
“The Pitt” composer Gavin Brivik performs with musician Andrew Bird, not pictured, during a benefit concert at Largo at the Coronet.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Brivik agreed, citing the “mass exodus” of healthcare workers post-pandemic and noting the need to combat burnout and stigma surrounding mental health services. A longtime fan of Bird’s, Brivik asked him to write a song for “The Pitt” based on instrumental samples he shared. He then synced the voice memo Bird sent back with the death scene in Season 2 to convince his higher-ups of the song’s merit.
Despite his prestigious position on one of HBO’s top shows, Brivik was giddy for the chance to perform at Largo.
“I’m obsessed with being the fan for these types of performances,” he said. “I’ve gone to Largo and watch Mark Maron or some of the comedians that do shows where they’re figuring it out on stage, and I love it. I’m going to be like, ‘Oh yeah, I’m a fan.’ And then all of a sudden I’m like, ‘Oh yeah, I need to perform the song.’”
With the exception of Brivik’s appearance, Bird took the stage solo, alternating between performing unreleased songs from an upcoming album and much-loved stalwarts from his 2005 breakout, “The Mysterious Production of Eggs.” Using every tool at his disposal — namely his violins, guitars, looping machine and expressive voice — Bird created a whirling one-man-band effect that somehow awed and soothed the crowd in equal measure.
Comedian Emily Catalano performs as the opening act for musician Andrew Bird during a benefit concert with “The Pitt” composer Gavin Brivik at Largo at the Coronet.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Though music was at its heart, stand-up comedian Emily Catalano opened the show, and Bird himself invoked humor throughout his set, slipping self-deprecating quips and confessional anecdotes about each lyric’s meaning in between songs. That intentional crossover between music and comedy is part of why Bird gravitates to Largo.
“It makes a lot of sense to me to do shows with comedians because I identify with [them],” he said. “I appreciate that they go up there with nothing, just a mic and their wits. By comparison, you seem painfully sincere as a songwriter. I like that uncomfortable shift.”
The Largo audience applauds Bird and Brivik.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
The show’s intimate nature created a kind of covenant of trust between performer and audience, allowing Bird the freedom to mess up a line and start over, or wax philosophical about the relationship between artificial intelligence, the creative process and temporality (“Claude cannot experience now,” he mused).
Much like a comedian testing out new material at small clubs, Bird considers performing a vital part of the songwriting process — a way to “complete the circuit” with the audience.
“The gesture of the comedian shrugging his shoulders and being like, ‘I don’t know, folks,’ that’s what performing has always kind of felt like to me,” he said. “When you’re most in the moment, you don’t try to pretend like you know what the hell you’re doing.”