Cut Across Shorty

The fever’s currently topping a balmy 102. A busted car axle too; all hail the Hamtown roadway! But the perfunctory Danny Kroha nod nonetheless: His unnamed trio at Record Graveyard Friday night restored a certain faith in the homespun, Glen Buxton-y five-chord roundelay; garage-era-cum-classic-rock crash and pop. His voice’s all vulnerable; Ronnie Lane comes to mind. Countenances of swooning high schoolers in front of the makeshift stage gaze hard at Kroha & chums; it says: Awesome!

Blowout’s Accent on Youth redux: An obvious observation this year mostly from three rows back at the Satin Peaches KofC set: Those in high-school a few years ago are the next tide of Detroit music fans and bands. We see innumerable tribes of strawberry-cheeked pups hitting venues and streets indulging festering live music addictions and that new, so-sweet hum of alcohol. There's lots of bemused wonder on soft, pale faces. Lots of nervous adrenaline wrapped in thoughtful black coats. Lots of newborn freedoms from subdivision constraints and parental dependence. Kudos to the new sounds

Kudos to discovery. Economy be damned, optimism’s rising.