Even if he had only written “Wichita Lineman,” Jimmy Webb would still belong in the pantheon. But of course, he also wrote about 900 of the finest mellow hit songs of the ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s. “MacArthur Park.” “Galveston.” “Up Up and Away.” “All I Know.” “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” “Didn’t We.” So many others. Not to mention his almost perversely interesting catalog of deep cuts. “When Does Brown Begin.” “Rosecrans Blvd.” “The Yard Went on Forever.” “Paper Cup.” Even more others. To say even less about "The Last Unicorn." He literally wrote the book about songwriting (Tunesmith, an essential text). Webb is a rare flower, and he doesn’t come to town very often. This isn’t to say that we need him more than want him, but it is to say that this is the very definition of the kind of show you regret not going to for all time.