I made it in to San Francisco the other night to see Howe Gelb (known as Giant Sand Man in our house) play at Cafe Du Nord. For those who don't know, Cafe Du Nord is a fancy old speakeasy on upper Market St. My friend Paul K. was up for it, albeit apprehensive because of how we all got burned by that awful Giant Sand show about 7 years ago,,, when they finally started their show at 11:30 pm on a Sunday night, all of us having to work in the a.m. and we had to endure the most miserable opening bands in the history of my concert-attending history. And I had sold them on Giant Sand because of the Calexico guys who were rounding out the band (as they had for many years, but hasn't happened since as far as I know.) None of the other dozen people from that fateful night would dare!

So Paul was game and we went downstairs early (glad they weren't upstairs in the elegant but overtly-large Swedish American Hall) and enjoyed some peppery amber ale from Morgan Hill. Poppy something, worth noting. Anyway, the opener was Kate Maki, and she was good. Last time I saw Howe Gelb (solo), his opener was a then-unknown named M. Ward. So we must give Kate a good listen because Mr. Gelb is always adding to his discovery credits. Kate sounds a lot like Jenny Lewis, hardly a bad thing. Howe and his mini-band (bass and drums) supported most of her set, which was interesting but ultimately they took away more than they added, which is a credit to her songs.

The best way to describe a Giant Sand-ish show is that it's the smallest and most devoted Sea of Dudes you ever see. Yes, 95% dudes, and several very tall ones. No casual listeners or chatterboxes in the room. It's like a room full of Bob Dylan worshippers. Not a word or twitch must be missed! I lighten up so I don't creep myself out, but I must admit, when it comes to onstage banter, he's among the best. Not as sharp and wicked as Robyn Hitchcok, but he's almost as twisted. Yeah, he's up there w/ the banter. Some of my other favorite banter bands are Camber Van Beethoven and of course the old Bad Livers. Who doesn't love a good roadtrip story?

So Howe is funny and as dry as the town of Tucson where he resides. This night, the banter was better than the music, which is fine since I have the records at home. It's a mini-tour and his takeout band isn't exactly fire underneath, which is I guess the difference between a Howe Gelb show and a Giant Sand show. This night's tape (if there is one, I sent my DAT deck to Wisconsin) probably isn't a keeper for the archives but I appreciate the guy getting up there and having the balls to be DARING w/ his music. Art created onstage trumps all. Paul and I were pleased to make it out the show, and we vowed to do this more often. Or at least set up Dexter Gordon on the turntable in the backyard more often! Thanks to the early schedule, we were back in Alameda at 11:00! Clubowners... let me go on to say that there's nothing us daddies appreciate more than EARLY SHOWS. Doors 7, show 8, done at 10:30 or so.... that's very workable.