photo: web

FRI., JAN. 18

Holy rock ‘n’ roll grail. I go out, I see shows, I commiserate with
the lads & ladies of rock, and you kind people never bothered to tell
me that Entrance are basically the second fucking coming? Where is
the love, people, where is the love? Entrance, as some of you may
know and others
may not (and if you’re in the latter group, get with
it because this band is out to blow your mind, and blow it they will)
come in from their magical compound of chillin & chatting with rock
gods to calmly set up, look at one another, wordlessly say ‘ready?’,
nod, and proceed to blow the fucking roof off. Drummer Derek James is
clearly the son of Ginger Baker and John Bonham, with five sticks set
up in the kick for backup for when he pounds the rhythms out so hard
he annihilates them. Bassist Paz Lenchantin looks like she came
directly from the collective womb of Os Mutantes and plays bass like
she’s been studying with P Funk since she was two. Heading the show
up is Guy Blakeslee, who shreds like Johnny Thunders with utmost ease
and grace but the end result is true blue (red, really) rock n roll
like you’ve never seen before—or, if you have, can we meet up
sometime to go over some good times? The sheer tonality of
Blakeslee’s playing is nothing short of admirable. Start the show off
with Grand Elegance who always, always keep it weird, fantastic,
extraordinary, and generally just ensure that a splendid time is
guaranteed for all, and then put a cherry (and 7th) on top with the
fantastic people who run Que Sera (Big Love to Benz, Lou, and Joe
Negro, putting the good back into good times), and my friends, you’ve
got a shimmering, loud, gorgeous night of rock. And a hangover you’ll
have to sleep off until 3 the next day.

—Chesney Higgins