Even more Largo

One big difference between the Largo nightclub's new location on La Cienega Boulevard and its longtime home on Fairfax was illustrated during Jon Brion's late show on Friday. In the middle of a lively, tango-style instrumental, the guitar-wielding Brion and mandolinist Chris Thile faced each other from opposite ends of the stage and charged past each other in a playful display of rock showmanship.

At the old Largo, two musicians could hardly stand 6 feet apart without backing into a wall or falling into the tables.

But a more crucial distinction emerged a little later when Fiona Apple, winding down to the end of an old pop standard, sang the final words in a voice that seemed impossibly hushed. She stood far from the microphone, but the notes were clear, pure and natural throughout the room. There wasn't a trace of distraction -- no clinking glasses, no blender at a bar, no audience chatter.

That rare, precious moment crowned the new setting's opening week, and it must have come as a relief to Largo fans and owner Mark Flanagan. You don't monkey with an institution without taking risks, and there was no guarantee that the Largo sensibility would survive the transition.

Like New York's CBGB and Living Room and L.A.'s old Ash Grove, to name a few, the Largo became the core of a music-centric community during its 12 years on Fairfax. With a capacity of just over 100 and a prominent position in the city's cultural fabric, it was part clubhouse and part laboratory, a homey retreat for a group of literate singer-songwriters that included Aimee Mann, Grant-Lee Phillips, Nellie McKay, David Garza and more.

Its move to the old Coronet Theatre, up the street from the Beverly Center, basically entailed an exchange of circulation for concentration. Some Largo regulars will probably miss the supper-club environment, the option to eat and drink and move around a bit while experiencing the music. The new format forgoes amenities to fulfill the Largo's mission statement: Serve the music above everything.

There's no food or beverage in the 280-capacity theater, whose permanent seats keep you planted in one spot. And the familiar Largo rules -- no talking during the show, no cellphones or electronics -- still prevail. (For those in need of socializing, a small showroom at the theater with a beer and wine bar is scheduled to open this week.)