Last night, The Wife and I went to see two bands. So we are now well-entertained people.
The first was a blues power trio including one of her colleagues from work. They did a few white-boy blues jams; they covered “Lucille” and “Tore Down” among a few other tunes that I was not familiar with. I enjoy blues music quite a bit so the entertaiment was quite agreeable to me. The Wife likes it because her friend from work is the bassist and the lead singer. The setting was a bit strange — it was like a coffeehouse and biker-bar combined. There were lots of nice bikes on display and the walls were decorated with old newspapers. No beer or booze available; just coffee drinks and light snacks. It was like a biker bar for guys who didn’t want to slip out of their twelve-step programs (and some of the patrons looked like exactly that). We enjoyed hanging out and talking with other friends of the band who showed up and I kind of regretted leaving early.
The second was an cover band that does 80’s music. The setting was not so agreeable to The Wife — they played at a popular nightclub in the Old City, which was packed to the gills with people looking to party. I have a higher degree of tolerance for crowds and smoke and heat than she does, so I think that the setting took a lot away from her enjoyment of the show. I enjoyed the ability to have a beer while listening to the band. The band itself, The Breakfast Club, was fronted by an alleged Scotsman wearing a kilt, but the dude had about the worst Scottish accent I’ve ever heard so I rather suspect he’s a native Knoxvillian using the Scottish bit to make the band more interesting (and maybe to get girls). They played a lot of recognizable 80’s pop tunes passably well, although their level of technical proficiency really requires a well-inebriated crowd. The guitar player went to the Stevie Vai school of fast-scale solos, which is fine for most of the 80’s songs they were playing, although it was weird to hear a guitar solo of that nature in a cover of Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” for the opening number. I also very much enjoyed the second show but when The Wife asked to leave at midnight, after a moment of reflection and consideration for just how dry my eyes were getting under my contact lenses, I was not unhappy to go home.
It was exceptionally difficult to get up this morning, and since my reward for doing so was yardwork that made for some bitter chocolate.
