It was a gorgeous, warm January afternoon, and so for many a Burqueño, an almost Spring-like moment to share a brew. Burque Sol was in the house, with a slew of other local bands, word-people, and the usual I’ll Drink to That live-painters, like Sparrow and Cloudface. This time also brought Hi-Phy Records, a local roving record shop, and my new nemesis du jour.*
The energy at I’ll Drink to That is typically sloped upward. Poets prime the stage for comedians, who prime it again for singer-songwriters, who give it over again to poets, and so on, till the live art auction. This Sunday, Carlos wasted little time, and before you could blow dirty,
Burque Sol lit the room on fire.
There was dancing. There was clapping. There were conversations the like of which you can only have over great music. This is summer music—the sort that not only sounds right on your porch, mid-evening in the dog days, but even brings that porch to you, at the end of January.
Most of my adult life, I’ve been around killer bands. Hampshire College has brought in a lot of greats over the years, from Tyondai Braxton and Thurston Moore (hell of a night, that) to Mirah (still pissed I missed her). New Mexico has been host and incubator to some big names (The Shins and Beirut come to mind), and it’s not hard to catch local luminaries Le Chat Lunatique or Wildewood. Still, its easy to let them slip by. It’s always a joy to hear Burque Sol, Eph-Sharpe (what a voice!) and Buddha-Funk do their things. It’s always a joy to be reminded you live amid such talented, craft-dedicated people.
*Only because I’ve developed a bank account-infecting vinyl obsession these last few months. Mmmm… vinyl. I love Hi-Phy. You should love Hi-Phy.