I was having a lot of trouble deciding whether to make the trip up to N.Haven last night. I met Steve and his special lady friend at Seven Sea\'s for a drink after work and almost got in my car to head for the Elm City. However, we were standing in front of Daniel St. talking to Ken, when I saw Preston walk around the corner, upright bass in hand. Decision made.
See ya later Steve. Enjoy your fried mac and cheese and refried covers in New Haven.
How nasty was the Blah Blah last night you ask? After their set, I walked outside for a breath of fresh air. Standing there was the opening act, Papa Mali
http://www.papamali.com/, bass player and drummer. I asked "ya ready to tear things up?" The bass player, a dreaded rastafarian, looks at me with genuine concern in his eye and starts motor mouth rambling at me:
"How are we supposed to follow that Blah Blah. Those boys are some Berkley freaks. They playin all those extra Berkley notes up there...."
The drummer was much calmer, however when Adrian walked outside they both decended on him. The bass player asking where he learned to play the drums like that. Adrians response, classic: "life". What was funny to me: I saw Adrian try to talk to them before the show and they were real stand-offish. But not after. They ran up to him like they were looking for autographs.
I think the bass player had himself worked up over nothing. Papa Mali, is fucking nasty. Dirty southern blues, sung by a dreaded Spacey lookin\' fella named MALCOLM WELBOURNE. These boys are from Austin Texas and I would highly recommend buying or Oinkin\' or burnin\' their stuff cause they got a great sound. Bluesy, with a touch of \'Orleans in their for flavor. Every member of that band tore up their instrument.
And to think... I almost did something stupid like go to N.Haven. How was that fried mac and cheese Steve?
