Tag: Brendan Benson

Jade Hairpins don’t care about your repetitive song structures, man. That’s not how you cram five albums’ worth of material into less than forty minutes.

If you’re wondering if Acid Tongue is about having a particularly caustic wit, or about some sort of psychedelic dosage, the answer is yes.

They had been shot at. They had avoided countless booby traps. They had been served tiny delicate cups of the most aromatic and poisonous espresso. All of these events were framed as interrupted cribbage games. Maybe they played too much. The phlebotomist ruminated on this as they locked up their two-wheel drive all-terrain motorbikes across the street from Kirov Park. The Transnistrian passports had been excruciatingly expensive, but the ergonomist insisted it was justified, for complicated political reasons. The pieces rattled against the cribbage board and the very dangerous little notebook in the messenger bag as they strolled through the trail, looking for a man holding two empty water bottles.

M. Ward could get by on his smoky velvet voice alone, but he also happens to be a supreme connoisseur of what alert musicians call songcraft.

It was a cold night, but things were kept warm by a steady influx of Latin-tinged music and of course, Millie Small’s delightful warble.

The evenings grow brisk as the music gets wilder. Tonight zipped by, thanks to Generoso and Lily, and Robin in Atlanta, for staying up late. Also, a reminder that I'll be out the following two Tuesdays, returning to the air on October 2.