Okay, this doesn't really count as a performance--it's rogue-logger-fiddlin'-friend Bob Antone's birthday, and he's invited friends to hear him play and to heckle--but I'm struck by two things worth sharing. One, Isadora's is a wonderfully funky spot, the kind of place that caters to everyone and seems in ever-shorter supply; and two, there are likely dozens of people and places in Seattle right now trying noticeably hard to be this real.
Bob's got the artist's soul, and plays and writes great music unlike anything I've encountered anywhere else. He and his brother, Mike, play host tonight to an unusual scene: everyone is captivated and dead-quiet fascinated while they're playing, but as soon as they finish a song and everyone whoops then people (pursuant to the heckling ground-rules in place) start yelling really dirty things. Thankfully, this mood subsides by the time I get up for a few (Bob insists).
Oh, and a third thing: you must hear this man sing.
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