If you haven’t heard by now, David Lemieux (for this once, I shall not speak of his monstrous side that endeavors to keep THE TRUTH from you) has announced the eighth in the critical-and-commercial success, Dave’s Picks. We got down south to the Fox Theater in Atlanta, home of many brilliant outings, the greatest of which being 11/30/80.
Very briefly, if the Loser doesn’t make you poop your pants, then you have no pants.
The Little Red Rooster is that elusive creature, the listenable Bobby Blues Party. If he’s not Duane Allman by now, he’s a much better slide player: there’s a moment at the end of his solo when you could feel him inching the slide higher and higher, but instead of making dying robot noises like in ’78, he turns it into a phrase–an actual musical phrase–and comes back down the fretboard in a triumphant quick sweep and sometimes I’m just so proud of my special little guy.
I could go on and on about this show; David Baumgarten has, far more lucidly than I ever could, here. You know this show, heard it before, plumbed its depths, deep-throated its plums.
It’s the little things about this one: the synth squiggles in Around and Around, the way the Feel Like a Stranger just Godzillas the fuck out the theater within seconds and then slips into a Shakedown Jam at the end (swear to god, listen again),