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4 wikians attended: DistopioSmashedtobits Ezamor Garit Kerimaus

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Setlist: (incomplete and possibly out of order)

Fan Recaps and Comments:

Tickets were $19.50 and $24.50.

Review by Daniel DeVise, Press-Telegram (Long Beach, CA), Nov. 19, 1994:

An inspired double bill of They Might Be Giants and Frank Black put their audience on a sucrose high Thursday night at the Pantages Theater with a two-hour assault of pop confection....
They Might Be Giants recently began touring with a full band, and the six-piece ensemble Thursday played with the raw enthusiasm of a first tour. The rhythm section was too loud at times; but the songs were so good, and the performances so sincere, that it didn't really matter.
Both They Might Be Giants and Frank Black ought to be more popular than they are. But then, the Pantages was packed Thursday, and the audience couldn't have been more devoted.

Flansburgh even poked fun at the show's limitations, evoking the name of an arena-rock giant for the sake of contrast: "Check out the intense light show on the next one. We're talking money. We're talking Floyd."

Review by Phil Gallo, Press-Enterprise (Riverside, CA), Nov. 19, 1994:

Thursday night's show at the Pantages Theatre started dark and bizarre - John Linnell and John Flansburgh on accordion and guitar, a large curtain behind them and two lights on each side. Introductions were quick and smile-raising, and the other band members gradually joined the Long Island duo and they flew through four songs (among them was the jocular semicountry sendup "I Hope I Get Old Before I Die") before opening the curtain to unveil a full stage and a pair of streetlights that did little to bring any sort of depth to the presentation.
From there, the band was loud and perfunctory, rambling through a few hits, semihits and songs from the new disc, "John Henry."
TMBG has survived because of its affinity for solid arrangements that succor the lyrics; Thursday what worked were the ukelele-tuba paradox on "Extra Savoir-Faire," the light reggae, the twist and the accordion. The stabs at spacey interlude and a duet between horn players and the audience shouting - both seemingly Zappa-inspired - were appallingly lame.
And by closing with Edgar Winter's "Frankenstein," the band perpetuates a tired act that needs retiring.
Then again, TMBG is on its third generation of high schoolers and collegiate types enjoying this stuff for the first time. It appears to have no idea that, in the long run, this is a load of fun for the moment and little more.

In a surreal bit of trying to figure out exactly where TMBG finds its audience, three signs made it extremely clear: the smell of clove cigarettes in the lobby; the dancing and singing along with the '70s funk, glam rock and disco played during the intermission; and the clamoring for the autograph of the famous guy in the audience, "Weird Al" Yankovic.