show # 136

9/28/09 @ Bike House, Cincinnati OH

John Hoffman

Call Me Chainsaw

Swear Jar

Letters To The Moon

Al Scorch and the Country Soul Ensemble

Drove down to Cincy with Lisa, Meg, and Lindsey. We stopped at a gas station to find the biggest Rice Krispy treat any of us had ever seen. The clerk vouched for the giganto size.

“Yea, I brought one to my friend’s party the other week and covered it in frosting.”

“Goes a long way I bet,” I said.

We could only think of smashing one over a friend’s head which would probably leave some sugary globs stuck in their hair.

The show stealer of the night was Chicago’s own, plus Bloomington’s male model Will Staler, Al Scorch and the Country Soul Ensemble. Describing Al Scorch as dynamic is a cheesy sounding understatement. He is a rosy cheeked drunk but can give ya’ hell like a stirred up hornets nest. He could make you pee laughing and then cry a river in the same set. The guy can sing like an angel. He can sing like a demon. He can sing like he’s at the bottom of the whiskey bottle with a hankering thirst for more. He plucks and flicks at the banjo like it’s been his only companion. They are both very familiar with each other. He played as the front man over stand up bass, mandolin, fiddle, and a sparse drum kit. They blew passed an hour long set at Bike Haus’s challenge to play as long as they could. I imagine the booze skewed their perception of time. I was ready to go by 2am because I had early work the next day. Well worth the lost sleep.

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