“When we did our Lizard Lounge residency in the fall, the room was so quiet for our encore that the entire sold-out crowd heard someone’s tiny little squeak of a fart and we had to stop the show ’cause we all started laughing.” Continue reading
January is Boston’s most discouraging month. Untrimmed Christmas trees lie strewn on the sidewalks like so much discarded wrapping paper. The snow darkens from white to brown, the city’s own ambiguously-stained linoleum.
Then, into this dreary post-holiday reverie skips Boston’s Celtic Music Fest, like a manic little parka-clad leprechaun. (I tried to find a gif of this but it seems there isn’t one, weirdly.) Continue reading
Ah, Harvard Square. Home of the tourist, the future billionaire, seemingly endless dining options, and a lot of other cool shit, to say the least. But never before has it been home to the country cousin of a mini SXSW-meets-Newport Folk. Continue reading