March 11th’s Electric Six show, which I’d been eagerly anticipating, was a blast — everything I’d hoped for and then some. Not only did Dick Valentine and the rest of the band live up to their billing, but the opening acts, Rock Kills Kid and Every Move A Picture, were entirely solid as well. (I actually wound up buying some of their music on iTunes yesterday, wondering all the while how I survived before the age of instant musical gratfication.)
For a while I worried that Greg, who had arrived in town earlier in the afternoon, wasn’t really enjoying himself, because he was just kind of standing there shrugged into his overcoat. It turned out, though, that he was just exhausted from having gotten up in the wee hours of an east-coast morning prior to a cross-country flight. He revealed his true feelings around the middle of Electric Six’s set, when he turned to me and said, with frank admiration, of Dick Valentine, “I don’t understand how he can still be alive after the third song.” The man is, indeed, a dynamo.