Werewolves of Santa Ynez

Before his untimely death from cancer in 2003, Warren Zevon was a much beloved singer-songwriter whose career spanned five decades. Though part of the ’70s California singer-songwriter scene — Fleetwood Mac, the Eagles, Linda Ronstadt and Jackson Browne, to name a few, were all friends and collaborators — he was by far the black sheep of his peers. With songs about headless, revenge-seeking guerillas, perfectly coiffed London werewolves and hockey goons who secretly longed for “one damn goal,” his lyrical subject matter was a tribute to outcasts and broken hearts. Though he had one legitimate hit in “Werewolves of London” and graced the cover of Rolling Stone, he never quite maintained the success he deserved from a commercial standpoint, despite releasing several classic records. With that said, his fan base (he preferred to call them “customers”) is a small but insanely devoted group.

Enter Karen Jones, a self-proclaimed “Warren Zevon stalker” and Santa Ynez resident. Determined to keep Zevon’s memory alive, on the evening of Dec. 8, she pulled off a top-notch tribute concert featuring a truly remarkable array of performers, ranging from the man’s friends to his actual family. It was a Zevon fan’s dream come true.

A sold-out crowd made up of enthusiastic Zevon devotees and clearly a lot of supportive locals filled the concert room of the Maverick Saloon, a legitimate country bar, long before the show started and also kept the connecting bar busy.

After sets from three local artists who had appeared on Jones’ past tribute shows, the second part of the show brought some slightly more established artists, including Kenny Loggins’ son, Crosby, who played solid — if somewhat uninspired — versions of “Searching for a Heart,” “Carmelita” and “Poor, Poor Pitiful Me”; Kenny Edwards, a Santa Barbara resident who appeared on Zevon’s biggest record, 1977’s Excitable Boy; and another local rock-star offspring, Nathan McEuen, a mainstay at Zoey’s and son of Nitty Gritty Dirt Band main man John McEuen. After his take on “Accidentally Like a Martyr,” McEuen admitted he had just learned the song minutes before the show. It wasn’t necessarily the smartest idea, as the crowd, though polite, seemed ready for more artists with a direct connection to Zevon.

The crowd then got exactly what they were looking for in the form of Zevon’s own son, Jordan. With a backing band in tow, he launched into a rocking version of “Detox Mansion,” then delivered one of the night’s truly emotional moments with a cover of his father’s masterpiece, “Desperados Under the Eaves.”

Jordan, who probably should have performed a little higher on the bill, was followed by Matt Cartsonis, one of the best kept secrets in all of music (think Ry Cooder with more personality and less money). He was clearly unknown to the crowd but was the night’s driving musical force, backing up nearly everyone on everything from mandolin to electric guitar. His solo set was superb, focusing on some of Zevon’s lesser-known songs, such as “For My Next Trick I’ll Need a Volunteer,” “Hula Hula Boys” (featuring a gorgeous flute solo from former Zevon tour manager and instrumentalist Duncan “Baby Head” Aldrich) and a blistering version of “The Envoy.”

To use a pugilistic analogy, if Jordan woke the crowd up with some combinations and Cartsonis got them on the ropes with some body work, former Zevon opening act Phil Cody delivered the knockout blow. Starting off solo with a country take on “Heartache Spoken Here” and then bringing his band up for an all-out rock version of “Splendid Isolation,” Cody, a masterful songwriter in his own right, was on fire, wearing his trademark hat and glasses and swaying back and forth like a man possessed. He slowed things back down again with a stirring version of Zevon’s fan tribute, “Mutineer,” before the presenting the evening’s musical highlight, a fierce version of “Play It All Night Long.” When the song peaked with the immortal Zevon lyric, “There ain’t much to country living/Sweat/Piss/Jizz/Blood,” the mesmerized crowd chanted along. Finally, after a tear-jerking rendition of “Don’t Let Us Get Sick,” the crowd gave Cody a well-deserved standing ovation.

Last but not least was a set from the night’s only legitimate rock star, Mike Campbell of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. The crowd was excited to see a man who would soon be rocking halftime at the Super Bowl in such an intimate setting. Decked out in a polka-dot shirt and tie Campbell was solid, but after a long changeover, the momentum of Jordan, Cartsonis and Cody’s sets couldn’t be matched. After just two songs from Campbell and his band, the Dirty Knobs, the night’s performers all returned to the stage for a rousing encore and another standing ovation.

It was ultimately a night of great celebration and musical collaborations, and it all took place in a saloon in Middle-of-Nowhere, Calif. Suffice to say, it was exactly the type of strange yet poignant event Zevon would have approved of.