Down in the Bowery

We’d gotten the tickets for cheap.  After a dinner of authentic pasta at nearby Sauce, we walked through the dark streets of the Bowery towards an old prohibition era concert hall.  We were early, so we bellied up to the bar and ordered up a jack and coke.  The cave-like basement bar made you feel like you were doing something forbidden with its dim lighting, concrete walls and dark curtains.  The huge horseshoe shaped bar had seen a few drunks in its day, no doubt, but I wouldn’t have wanted a pre-show drink anywhere else.

When the doors opened, we climbed a narrow staircase to the main auditorium and then some more to a balcony overlooking the stage.  As we neared showtime, what had begun as a trickle became a steady stream of people flowing into the standing room only section on the main floor.  Who knew there were so many cowboys in NYC…well other than the naked type.

The opening act was dressed up in a Porter Wagner suite with the only pair of iridescent cowboy boots I’ve every seen.  His jacket and matching brown pants had embroidery of steak and eggs tumbling down his body, with strips of bacon on his upper thigh.  Unusual to say the least.  His songs weren’t memorable, not was his name, but he did a good job of livening up the crowd for the main act.

When they took the stage, Jamestown Revival began two hours of some of the best music I’ve ever heard live.  The beat was so loud I could feel it in my bones, but it felt right and good.  At the end of the night, as we ventured back into the dark New York city streets, I felt very satisfied.

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