Come on feel the Boyz
Nothing profound to say here. Just an excuse to post pictures of my favorite local goofballs, the Barstow Boyz, who tore it up at a private birthday party at Detroit Bar Sunday.
As anyone who has ever seen my iPod will attest, I have eclectic taste in music. I know people say that all the time, but I challenge you to find someone who has ’70s R&B band LTD and ’80s hardcore band Minor Threat on the same iPod. But even by my standards this weekend’s musical happenings were unusual. On Saturday, Mona and I drove down to Temecula to see soul singer Jeffrey Osborne. It was a fundraiser for Shriner’s hospitals. I bought the tickets after I had to miss Osborne’s performance at this year’s Newport Beach Jazz Festival. Unfortunately for me, we got there a little early and had to sit through some “smooth jazz” band, a genre of music I detest. I love Steely Dan, so it saddens me to see how many awful bands they’ve spawned over the years. Anyway, Osborne and his band were slamming and had most of us, myself included, rump shaking in the aisles.
Then the Barstow Boyz on Sunday. The Boyz are local musicians from various area bands who clown around occasionally, playing a lot of those ’70s and ’80s AOR staples that you love to hate. But they play those corny songs so damned well I’m starting to like them.
So what’s up Monday? Mona’s favorite, Ani DiFranco at the Orpheum Theatre in LA.
In the meantime, enjoy these pictures from Sunday’s show:
Too hot for the customary red leather pants, so Rim treats the girls in the crowd Sunday to pink shorts. It is, after all, Rim’s job to excite the ladies.
Rockin’ Roger Daly on the drums
Mixl Rose is a crack guitarist
Panic in Detroit, the Boyz are back in town. I would have asked for an autograph, but that chick got up and she slapped Johnny’s face. Man, we fell about the place. If that chick don’t wanna know, forget her.