Supagroup: Gallery Lombardi Lounge Friday, 17
Gallery Lombardi Lounge Friday, 17 Thank you, Supagroup, for officially ending my alt.country romance. The split is amicable, but the divorce is final thanks to the 40 minutes of blinding, fist-pumping fury Supagroup (re)converted me with to the cause of rock & all its life-changing glory. And to my new partner I will be true. All I ask in return is for rock equivalent in matter and form to what the New Orleans fourpiece pumped out from the stage for their South by Southwest assault -- relentless, balls-out, unapologetic long-haired cock rock. It was AC/DC at its center, but even the lads from down under have been mailing it since For Those About to Rock. Merely preparing to rock is no longer sufficient, of course; it's only by actually rocking that you earn the salute. And Supagroup had the good-sized Lombardi Lounge crowd giving two-fisted salutes from note one until they left the stage. It wasn't irony and it wasn't flattery via imitation. Sure it was Angus Young's holy trinity of A, D, and G chords, and yeah, they know they're breaking no new ground, but what's wrong with having influences and what's wrong with the sure bet that pays off? It just so happens that now is the time for the teacher to step aside and the students take over in all their balls-out cock rock glory. How thoroughly did the Supagroup experience rock? From Supagroup I managed to haul my ass across town for the Nashville Pussy show over at Stubb's, and all I could think about was how weak it was.
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