Fortunately, songwriter extraordinaire Jimmy Webb showed no deficit of nerve Wednesday night at Largo at the Coronet as he ran through nearly two hours' worth of some of the most elegantly crafted compositions of the last half-century.
Webb knows he's not going to outdo Glen Campbell's stylish versions of By the Time I Get to Phoenix" and Wichita Lineman," recordings that brought Campbell to prominence in the late 60s, or top the outsized dramatics of Richard Harris' rendition of Webb's epic MacArthur Park."
When I started out, I was absolutely awful," the 62-year-old from Elk City, Okla., once said. I had no voice, I didn't have a lot of stage presence, and most of the intensity that I brought to the experience was actually terror."
Even today, his voice is more serviceable than scintillating. But he brought loads of stage presence -- and plenty of between-song banter -- to his first L.A. performance in about a decade. He set up All I Know," which gave Garfunkel his first solo hit after he parted ways with Paul Simon, with a lively tale of the pain he felt when he picked up a copy of Rolling Stone and spotted the headline Simon & Garfunkel -- Splitsville."
His initial sadness was quickly ameliorated when it occurred to him that one of the great singers of the '60s was now cut off from his font of pop songs. He still sounded tickled recounting how Sinatra always introduced him as the wonderful kid Jimmy Webb" whenever he sang one of his songs in concert.
The first time he was invited to meet the Chairman of the Board at his home in Hollywood, he couldn't help being intimidated by the sign above the doorbell: You better have a damn good reason for ringing this bell."
With perfect comic timing, he said he paused before pushing it. I had a good reason, but . . . .