hooves on the turf

At Union Hall, AA Bondy asked that we call him Gus from that moment on. The two A’s in Bondy’s name stand for Auguste Arthur, however, and I ask: why the hell have we been diverted from using that fantastically royal birth name? He may have appeared to be more of a Gus that night, dressed in the most generic combination of shirt over t-shirt with jeans and boots (and a cap pre-show); he may have even sung like a Gus in that extra raspy voice of his, wailing on the harmonica every now and then, but his personaly sure as hell has the heroic poeticism of an Auguste Arthur. Opening band Two Dark Birds tried their best to hold the attention of the room, but going by the chatter that poured of that tiny space, they were unsuccessful. Bondy, on the other hand, with the might of his acoustic guitar and an array of harmonica options, claimed the spotlight. I would’ve liked to stay for Delta Spirit, but an incident before Bondy’s last song dictated I and my posse, shaking with fury, storm out into the pleasant arena of home sweet home as soon as Bondy’s set was done. (ps. I’ll add photos later today)