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A penny for your thoughts indeed. Around here that would be a raise.

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Most of my posts seem to be about music or politics. Some of them are funny. But all of them would love to hear a comment from you.

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I was born at a relatively young age. Growing up consumed the better part of my childhood. As a young man I chased a lot of girls. But they kept getting away. Then I got older and even slower, so I got married. I've lived in New York City almost since before I moved here. I summer in Manhattan, which is like New York City, but with more humidity.

Here's me, without baby, thinking big thoughts. (Actually, what I'm thinking is, "Hey, these aren't Pringles!") I think I look better with baby.

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Todd Rundgren at BB Kings, 4-23-07
Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Still one more Allman show to write up, but let's take a break to visit Todd Rundgren at BB King's:

Buffalo Grass
I Hate My Frickin’ ISP
Black Maria
Soul Brother
Fascist Christ
I Saw the Light
Black and White
Lunatic Fringe
Number One Lowest Common Denominator
Tiny Demons
Mystified > Broke Down & Busted > Mystified
Walls Came Down

One World

I was a crazy-mad Todd Rundgren fan in my late teens and early twenties; from 1978, when I first saw him live, through 1985. No Internet, no digital; records were these big warm personal slabs that dragged you in, that you could listen to intently, chin in hands, hands on knees, you really listened. You didn’t just have it on your computer speakers while you worked; you listened. And Todd has always been the kind of artist where it seems like you have to fall under the sway of that mystical, silvery faerie dust he sprinkles about in order to really “get it.” Eyes that have seen and all that. Even now, pushing 60 he may have lost that pixie quality. But to really “get” Todd, you have to drink the Kool-Aid.

One thought that stuck in my head at Monday night’s Todd show at BB King’s: if I tried to imagine in 1982 what a Todd Rundgren concert would be like 25 years later, this show was very much what I would have envisioned. Tasteful, tight, a generous offering of both catalogue material (but not hits; I didn’t foresee Todd turning into a nostalgia act) and recent, powerful material, played with enthusiasm and muscle. The band was top-notch, a world class quartet, nimble and facile. And then there was the guitar. Lots and lots of Todd Rundgren’s unmistakable instrumental voice, ringing out on that electric guitar. I haven’t seen him play this much guitar in years, and it was great. He isn’t the fastest player in the world, he doesn’t have the best technique, he’s sloppy and sometimes it seems like he’s racing breathlessly to get the solo out before the break ends. No matter. He is one of the few guitarists in rock whose voice is instantly recognizable, that jagged electric sloppy eager-puppy-on-acid mad dash through the song. It has touched my heart for years, Todd speaks directly to me with his guitar playing, I feel him. And on this night it felt like he had much to say.

Todd played the guitar called foamy all night, save for switching to the Utopia ax for “Tiny Demons.”

“Buffalo Grass” features Todd taking the mid-song solo, and laying down his hot shrill distinct lines on the extended end solo. Levin is especially nimble; indeed on many songs you feel like maybe they’re too easy for him. Which brings us to “I Hate My Frickin’ ISP,” a clever and timely song in 1997 that was novelty then, and is now dated novelty (it would make a nice medley with “Macarena.”)

But at the end of the song, Todd mentions an interviewer who asked if he was going to play the hits. “The hits?” He feigned incredulity as he gestured to his band mates: Jesse Gress on guitar, Jerry Marotta on drums, and Tony Freaking Levin on bass—and said, “Look at this musical unit. We’re gonna fuckin’ play!”

And as he leads these studs into “Black Maria,” you can’t help but be appreciative.

One thing Todd seems to have done with this line-up is to select songs for the set that work well in the guitar-heavy format; the guitar-guitar-bass-drums instrumentation is unusual for Todd, and some fans have bemoaned the lack of keyboards. Not me though; first off, I love guitars, and especially guitars played loud and well in a rock’n’roll setting. And second, when there’s a keyboard in the house, Todd has the annoying habit of wanting to sit down and play it, which is best avoided.

Anyway, “Black Maria” totally stings. Todd steps to the lip of the stage and just wails, you just need to soak it all up. Levin is big and bouncy. Then Jesse plays the chorded intro to ‘Soul Brother,” Levin lays down a big, funky riff. A nice read, less funk than on the Liars tour; Jesse plays the solo with smooth, solid, creamy clear tone. On “Mammon,” Jesse plays speedy lines to define the melody, Levin is big and scary. However, the song—from Liars, and performed in a keyboard-heavy configuration on that tour—is stripped of some of its other-worldly power by this traditional instrumentation. The song leads directly into its philosophical cousin, the slammin’ “Fascist Christ,” which has been a live highlight with any band Todd has brought out since the Individualist tour in ’95. Levin is wearing sticks on the fingers of his right hand, and he uses these to play the bass like a percussion instrument; Jesse simulates the scratching of the track with chunky chording. Todd plays an expressive, piercing solo way up top of the guitar neck; the whole thing is nicely executed, passing through several distinct movements.

Now from the sublime to the ridiculous; “I Saw the Light” follows. “You’ve earned an aperitif,” Todd decides. The twin guitar solo on the bridge is a blast and elicits applause; overall the take is a little rough, although somehow that isn’t a problem.

“Black and White” is yet another guitar song that benefits from this instrumentation. Jesse takes the lead parts during the verse, Todd takes the solo on the break. “Lunatic Fringe” is loud, stupid fun; Jesse tears it up. “Number One Lowest Common Denominator” is clean, economical, and kick-ass, then Todd introduces “Drive” as a “niche in my oeuvre.” And indeed it goes oeuvre quite well, an under-appreciated guitar-driven rocker that is just made for this instrumentation. Todd sings the hell out of it—he is in good voice all night, from rock’n’roll shriek to soulful “woo” and pretty much everything in-between—and wails on the solo. Best version of “Drive’ I have ever heard, and a highlight of the show.

Todd switched to the Utopia eye logo guitar for a full-band version of “Tiny Demons,” a nice moody restrained take with Jesse playing the riff at the core of the song, and Todd tossing off the odd demonic line.

The medley of “Mystified” and “Broke Down and Busted” was introduced as a blues, which it is. It runs shorter than usual, Todd plays some smoking lead. Then the two-song romp that ends the set. We already know from recent Big Star gigs that “S.L.U.T.” works well live with the 2 guitars, as a trashy pop song. Todd and band do it exuberant justice. Then on the Call’s “The Walls Came Down;” Jesse rocks the house with his clarity and clean tone.

“Hawking” is a piano song, so it provides a test for the band on the first encore. During some of the quieter passages, Todd sings with no accompaniment save for some light accenting chords from Jesse. The song is is, as always, exquisite, and the band puts it to bed with a lovely, graceful ending. Then “One World,” four chords of Utopian glee, gets the house up and singing; Jesse takes the solo.

It was a bit disappointing that the band omitted “Temporary Sanity” and “Worldwide Epiphany” from the set; both had been included two nights prior. But that’s just minor grousing; overall the show is fresh and appealing. Top notch players, enthusiastic takes on both old songs and new ones. Todd seems to rise to the level of his surroundings, and he was loose (but not TOO loose) and at the top of his game—looked great, sang great, played like a total mofo, led the band with what looked like an easy camaraderie.

I wouldn’t kick if Todd wanted to replace “ISP” with, say, “Surf Talks,” and I’d love to see this line-up take a shot at something like ‘Seven Rays.” But hell, I’d see them any time they came around.


Posted by: --josh-- @ 11:51 AM  8 comments

Allman Brothers Kick Major Ass at Beacon, 4/7/07
Monday, April 23, 2007

After 12 Allman Brothers concerts in 3 weeks, once they leave town I'm in major make-up-for-lost-time mode; catching up on work, spending time with the wife and that cute little princess over there in the flickr box. So the last one, two reviews take me a long time to get out. Here's Saturday night April 7th:

I Walk on Gilded Splinters
Every Hungry Woman
Rocking Horse
Gambler’s Roll
Manic Depression
Who’s Been Talkin’ (Bernie Williams, gtr) CLICK HERE
Statesboro Blues (Larry McCray, gtr)

Fire on the Bayou
Hey Pocky Way
(Haynes, Matt Abts, Danny Louis, Andy Hess, Leo Nocentelli, Cyril Neville)

Don’t Want You No More >
Dreams >
bass > drums >
Mountain Jam > Dazed and Confused > Mountain Jam

Lovelight (Jay Collins, sax; Robert Randolph, pedal steel)

If last night was in the pocket, tonight is in your face, in your pants, blow-your-hair-back power and beauty. Last Saturday night of the run, time to open up the whupass but good, take no prisoners, and let it rip.

“Gilded Splinters,” especially up top, is a real “Bam! There they are!” sort of song. Warren’s slide whines against Derek’s glassy crunchy slide lines; Derek plays a hot slide solo against the gumbo beat, then Warren vibrates out a wedge of sound, leading into the vocals. Derek accompanies with some nice, chunky rhythm chording. Warren offers up a phrase, Derek responds, and they’re off on a tart duel over just the drums… Oteil steps in, brings the band back into the full on song to close. Awesomely big.

The band stays big with “Every Hungry Woman.” Warren’s lead lines are propelled by more crunchy Derek chording—indeed Derek’s rhythm guitar seems especially prominent tonight. Derek and Warren trade one-bar licks, then tumble into the harmony lines, then the final vocal section; and now the guitar players go and get it. Derek says ‘scuse me, and bathes you in white metallic light; this gives way to a frenetic duel with Warren into a full-on band close.

This one-two punch has been a hell of an eye-opener, bracing, the gauntlet thrown, so you figure they can ease back a little on the throttle. So when “Rocking Horse” unfolds from the stage, it is an “Oh my God!” moment; it drops like a big ominous bomb that slowly fills the Beacon with smoke. The smoke begins to clear as Warren commences his solo, a cool slow build… Oteil is off by the side, throwing the band back at itself in big bouncy bottom. Warren pulls up, then he and Derek trade ripples. Warren ascends again, Derek providing agile chording support. Warren goes to double time, playing straight from the furnace, then the transition licks to Derek’s solo. Derek lays out distinct sheets of sound to get the vibe fresh, moving to a rubbery fretted solo that goes high on a final attack that sets off the crowd… leading seamlessly back into the song and close.

Out of the “Horse,” Warren and Derek ring out to stretch as Oteil changes basses, then “Gambler’s Roll,” slow, bluesy, washes over like a warm towel. Big drops of the blues form on your heart… Gregg’s organ takes you to church out of the first vocal, then Derek tells a sad story with a happy ending. Warren wields the melody like a hammer; I am a biscuit, and I must sop up every drop of this song… back into the last vocal section, then Warren milks the close. Su-weet.

“Manic Depression” is another “omigod” moment. Derek has a little fun with the wavy licks, into Oteil’s vocals; Warren plays some trippy 60s-inspired lead on his solo; apparently he’s been experienced.

The band moves into a “Who’s Been Talkin’” vibe as someone is getting set up to sit in. Finally the guest is announced as Bernie Williams, former Yankee centerfielder. The Yankee fans erupt, perhaps forgetting that this is a concert, not a ballgame (the night before, no one chanted “Peter! Peter!” during Frampton’s sit-in.) The music becomes a blue, Santana-ish vibe, Warren plays some snaky minor lines, Bernie responds in kind, and then the music flips into the song. Warren’s vocals, then Bernie takes a nice, restrained, low-key solo that is in the pocket, and the place goes nuts. Warren begins with the lick from Otis Rush’s “All Your Love” (you can hear it at 1:12 if you want to check the Rush original) and builds until he’s wielding a hose of fire… the vocals… then Derek plays some fast, rich slide that pulls the band into a gallop. Derek creeps over you on the outro, Oteil stirs it up, Bernie adds lines and phrases judiciously. The way the Brothers play this song, it is all about discipline, vibe and restraint, and Williams totally gets it, nails it. Nicely done for an outfielder.

Bernie is off, and Larry McCray joins the party for the set-closing “Statesboro Blues.” McCray plays insistent rhythm leading into the vocals, Warren adds some slide. Out of the vocals McCray plays over Gregg’s keyboard; the crowd eats up his Texas boogie. A false ending, then back into the song for Derek, who shreds all the way up, then trades with McCray, and Warren joins in for rounds, a three-guitar rave-up finish.

The second set begins with the band that many will go to see after the show—Matt Abts, Danny Louis, and Andy Hess from Gov’t Mule, plus Leo Nocentelli and Cyril Neville from the Meters. Warren is the only member of the Allman Brothers Band on stage, and this aggregation plays a 2-song set that sort of opens for the formal second set. A sweet jam becomes “Fire on the Bayou” after Warren pierces with some lead, a great groove; then “Hey Pocky Way.” All percolating funk over sweet keyboard bed, with stylish guitar lines over the top from both Warren and Nocentelli; it aint the Allman Brothers, but it shimmies and simmers. These are maybe the two best-known, catchiest songs in the Meters’ repertoire, and a fun way to lead into the home stretch.

And what a home stretch.

The band reassembles and launches into “Don’t Want You No More.” A nice, new riff emanates from Oteil… Derek takes off… the song riff… Warren stings… then the two guitarists wrap around the twin licks of the theme… the song comes to an almost-full stop on that extended note that usually segues to “Not My Cross to Bear”… then, an easy breezy sway forward into “Dreams.” It feels perfect.

On the opening of his solo, Derek lays out big, loud lines, then pulls them into sweet blues… he moves to long expositions… lays his part nicely to bed, then breaks through with glassy waves of sunshine that amp the energy back up, until we are back in that place where Gregg was staring into the abyss. Derek plays some bluesy, light round fire, then finally throws us back into the song, and Gregg sings the back end. The drummers make the whole thing bigger with a blend of rhythms over the top… a wavy electric triumph, highlighted of course by Derek’s long flashy interlude.

After “Dreams,” from a full stop and after a minute and change of down time, the bass solo section begins from a standing start. Oteil does some melodic exploration, then scats, no Derek bass line yet. He moves to a bass funk groove, still scatting; Derek is on it for him, Marc provides coloration... Once his song is sung, Oteil starts the drum solo by slapping out a rhythm on the bass; the drummers pick it up as Oteil moves to Butch’s kit, and the band moves through the dark night of the drums…

…Derek is the first one back out of the drums. Butch rides on the timpani, and here comes “Mountain Jam. Derek plays slow, vamping lines as the drummers drive at the beat; he darts and skits away from the melody, skipping melodic stones across the river of humanity in the room… playing a siren song… then finally he falls into the licks for keeps, Warren joins, and they go to the theme. Derek plays a dewy solo based on the “Mountain Jam” melody, then of course he reels out of it, into a fire dance… he finds the note, likes it, hits at it again and again. Gregg plays a swinging electrified solo, then Warren begins with slide notes that are question marks. Oteil is in the pocket, Derek is playing rhythm guitar with little sizzles. (All night, Derek’s rhythm playing has been front-and-center, and revelatory.) Warren plays the “Birdland” lick, and the band briefly joins him; then he makes like a bird and flies, with Derek and Oteil; the three of them interweave, not “Birdland,” not quite “Mountain Jam.” Warren throws the slide as high up the neck as it will go, again and again… then a monster groove, Oteil Derek and Warren SO plugged in, a sort of electric power trio slam… then finally Warren calls it all to a halt with the move into the hard wobble of “Dazed and Confused.” Out of the vocal, Warren wah-wahs some white boy blooz. Derek and Warren roll the riff in unison… back to vocals… a big, lumbering classic rock riff, they pummel it into the ground… then out of the burning embers, the return to “Mountain Jam,” gentle at first, but Derek hits it quick, and soon the band is into a big-ass Saturday night close.

Warren informs us that this is the 175th Allman Brothers show at the Beacon. Jay Collins sets up on sax, Robert Randolph on pedal steel for the encore, and this is a good thing, because in some ineffable way, the night seems to have led up to “Lovelight,” and you remember that last year that’s the tune Randolph sat in on. So when the band rolls into the sweet sugary groove of that very song, it is just… perfect. Gregg sings the vocals, then a Derek jaunt, Randolph goes, the band laying down a great groove under his twangy tang (I may have that reversed); Warren and Derek chunk out the rhythm. Collins plays some nice rubbery lines, then blows as the guitars pick up the pace. The crowd applauds as Gregg goes back into the vocals, a call and response with Randolph’s steel. Randolph throws some solo lines in Derek’s general direction, Derek responds, turning his red ax into sacred steel. Derek and Randolph shine the light together, then move to a skronky call and response. They have found a common language. Then the whole damn train pulls in, big, shining the light as Warren and Collins trade licks. Warren throws the heat at Collins, his mouth open with wicked glee; Randolph is all over. It’s a runaway joyous groove; Gregg tries to elbow his way into the song for the final vocal part… Warren and Derek play some nice twin rhythm on the refrain, then a big, slamming close, Warren bodily throwing the song down and into the night.

It is a hell of a show, maybe the best of the run so far. Powerful, commanding, yet still full of grace.

Randolph (seated), Collins (far right) join the band for "Lovelight."

Posted by: --josh-- @ 4:15 PM  0 comments

ABB @ the Beacon, 4/6/07: Back With a Vengence
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Trouble No More
Don't Keep Me Wondering
Hot 'Lanta
Come & Go Blues
Leave My Blues at Home
The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down (w/Jukes Horns)
And It Stoned Me (w/Jukes Horns)
The Same Thing (w/Jukes Horns)

Key To The Highway (Peter Frampton, gtr)
Born Under A Bad Sign (Peter Frampton, gtr)
Midnight Rider
The Weight (w/Jukes Horns)
Loving You Too Long (w/Jukes Horns)
Liz Reed w/ Carmine Appice, drums)> bass > drums > Liz Reed

Southbound (Jukes, Frampton)

Tonight was what you call “in the pocket.”

Out of the gate the band puts its metaphorical head down and gets to business, beginning the set with a five-song blast of foundation Allman Brothers music which touches pretty much all the fundamental bases. “Trouble No More” plants a stake in the ground; Oteil is happy, Warren’s head shakes to the groove. Derek’s silvery slide is a nice counterpart to Gregg’s vocals. “Don’t Keep Me Wondering” features Derek’s usual old school slide workout; Oteil clicks with the drummers, his head bobbing to a Butch beat. Tight, to the point, all Allmans.

To read more, please click here.


Posted by: --josh-- @ 11:43 AM  1 comments

ABB @ the Beacon, 4/5/07: Too Many Cooks?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Can’t Lose What You Never Had
Aint Wastin’ Time No More
Maydell > coda jam
One Way Out (Vince Esquire, gtr)
Statesboro Blues (Vince Esquire, gtr)
All along the Watchtower (Dave Mason, gtr/vox; Bruce Katz, keys)
Feelin’ Alright (Dave Mason, gtr/vox; Bruce Katz, keys)

Black Hearted Woman > The Other One jam
shuffle > Done Somebody Wrong (Luther Dickenson, gtr)
The Sky is Crying (Leslie West, vox/gtr, Bruce Katz, keys)
Crossroads (Leslie West, vox/gtr)
Les Brers > bass > drums > Les Brers

No One Left to Run With

The opening strums of “Jessica” are so soft and smooth, it makes you say “hunh!” to yourself. The playing through to the end of the opening theme is a springtime happy jaunt. Derek plays nice, easy melodic lines out of the theme, Warren adds some beautiful chording that turns it into the song again. Derek’s playing is magnificent, but he’s still holding back… finally he punches through and rings the big bell, then takes it back down again; it’s a happy time, and the place erupts as Warren steps up to join in on the familiar transitional lick and hand-off. He sends piercing, happy sloppy blues licks to some place in the back of your head, between the ears. He comes down for a sparse little happy dance, then trades licks with Derek… Oteil’s bass sings out in empathy to Derek’s plaintive call… Warren plays searing hot white breezy lines, then goes blue to return to the “Jessica” licks and theme. The whole bands leans hard on a long, gooey close; Butch pounds the sucka out, the crowd eats it up. Outstanding, sublime, the happy dust is going to spill over into the rest of the set.

Please click here to read more.


Posted by: --josh-- @ 12:18 PM  0 comments

Whirled Wind Weekend at the Beacon...
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Took Monday and Tuesday off, so I'd b e fresh for the final kick-- Thursday through Sunday nights. Thursday was less than spellbinding, although you wouldn't have known it to have walked out with an enthralled crowd (but you would have known it if you sat close enough to read the faces and body language of the band; a case of too-many-guests-itis.) Friday was killer, and Saturday better still. Sunday awaits... and then you, dear reader, will read about it all as I ctch up this week-- you know, when I should be working. Or paying attention to my family. Or sleeping.

Eat a peach for peace.


Posted by: --josh-- @ 1:06 PM  1 comments

ABB @ the Beacon: Saturday Night March 31
Friday, April 06, 2007
shuffle > Done Somebody Wrong
Come and Go Blues
Don't Want You No More >
Wasted Words (hear for yourself)
Good Morning Little Schoolgirl
Black Hearted Woman > Other One Jam

One Way Out (Devon Allman)
And It Stoned Me
The Same Thing >Bass > drums > The Same Thing
No One to Run With

Whipping Post Yo! (And check some of this)

The lights go down and the energy in the room is palpable as the band takes the stage; the drummers start pounding out a jaunty beat as the rest of the players get comfortable and tweak their tuning. The beat is insistent enough that you know it is going to stay there and become the song. The guitarists join in, Warren plays some nice blues lines, Derek adds some slide, and like sittin’ on a porch, it is the shuffle jam that now introduces “Done Somebody Wrong.” The song kicks in, Derek tarts up the riff, Gregg plays a nice vamp over some wavy Derek slide… On “Come and Go Blues” Derek and Warren play solos that are nice and tight; their straightforward reads making the song seem BIG, and a nice, rewarding take.

On “Don’t Want You No More” Derek does that slow snaky thing of his that changes the blues into jazz, then Warren takes another tight, strong if low-risk solo. Then out of the ashes of the song, “Wasted Words.” Oteil is the rubber band man. On the outro Derek plays white hot slide that bubbles up out of the song; then Warren pushes it into the red zone for the first time this evening, a hot trippy blues that tickles your poor pitiful heart. Then Derek lays on some prolonged intensity into a nice crunchy close.

To read more, please click here.


Posted by: --josh-- @ 1:43 AM  0 comments

The ABB @ the Beacon: 3/30/07
Thursday, April 05, 2007

Don’t Keep me Wonderin’
Trouble No More
Aint Wastin’ Time No More
Hot ‘Lanta
Lovin’ You is Sweeter Than Ever (Susan Tedeschi, vox)
Lost Lover Blues (Susan Tedeschi, guitar/vox)
Statesboro Blues
Les Brers in A Minor (Eric Krasno, guitar)

Midnight Rider (Devon Allman, guitar/vox)
You Don’t Love Me (Devon Allman, guitar)
Key to the Highway (Devon Allman, Junior Mack, guitar; No Warren, Marc)
Dreams (Mike Merritt bass; no Oteil)
The Weight (Susan Tedeschi, vox; Mike Merritt, bass; Eric Krasno, guitar; Oteil on drums)
Mountain Jam > Lovelight (Eric Krasno, guitar) >
Bass > drums > Mountain Jam
Anyday (Susan Tedeschi, backing vox)

Warren is under the weather, and so Susan Tedeschi—at this point more auxiliary member than guest—is pressed into action to fill out the vocal array, while Eric Krasno from Soulive is on hand to provide some failsafe guitar depth (I suspect that Krasno would have played the whole gig if Warren was unable to go.) This, in addition to a healthy contingent of guests. Warren’s condition, and the shuttling on and off of so many players, contributed to a spottiness or discontinuity at some points, and not everything worked… but like an oyster that spits out a pearl when irritated by a grain of sand, a little adversity causes these players to find new places to go, new centers of gravity, and the high points are truly sublime…

To read the rest, please click here.

The enchanting Susan Tedeschi leading the ABB through "Lost Lover Blues."


Posted by: --josh-- @ 12:01 PM  0 comments

The ABB @ the Beacon: 3/29/07. The Middle Weekend Begins With a Bang
Monday, April 02, 2007
Revival >
Not My Cross to Bear
Walk on Gilded Splinters
Who’s Been Talkin’
Firing Line
Highway 61
Rocking Horse >
Manic Depression

Can't Lose What You Never Had
Leave My Blues at Home
In Memory of Elizabeth Reed > bass > drums > Liz


The first set is beautifully crafted, well-paced, a thing of precise beauty. It is a “lighter” set than the casual fan may have wanted to hear, nimble, full of deftness and voodoo, the rollicking warhorse songs in short supply until the pile-driver two-song close. On the whole, it is exquisite. Indeed to my ears, the second set is a bit anti-climactic (although that may well be a minority opinion.) No worries though; my ticket was well-punched by intermission.

To read more, please click here.

Posted by: --josh-- @ 11:19 PM  0 comments

Joke of the Day
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Two surrealists walk into a bar. One of them says to the bartender, "Tomatos!"

Posted by: --josh-- @ 7:49 PM  0 comments

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