The Blushing Brides – You Get What You Need …

Love is strong
And you’re so sweet
You make me hard
You make me weak …

Calistoga Grill. Inside – dark. Outside – smokey.

The smell of anticipation loomed within the drinks. The ultimate party cover band‘s members lounging outside with the smokers. Before playing the ultimate cover music. No fancy clothes – no fancy attitudes.

Be my little baby for a while.
Won’t you be my little baby for a while?

Lead singer Maurice Raymond and guitarist Paul Martin, aka Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, clones in appearance and spirit. Danger oozes from their pores.

You thought you were a clever girl
Giving up your social whirl
But you can’t come back and be the first in line, oh no
You’re obsolete my baby
My poor old-fashioned baby
I said baby, baby, baby you’re out of time

James Green on lead. Blues seeping through his every lick and flick of his dreadlocked hair. Cheekiness. Attitude and life experiences. Comfortable amid the lights and the darkness …

I watched you suffer a dull aching pain
Now you decided to show me the same
No sweeping exits or off stage lines
Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

The crowd. Restless. The men – cynical. The women – wet. The men – jealous. The women – living out fantasies in their minds. Sex, drugs and rock n roll instead of kids, mortgages and mini-vans. The swagger of the band hits the stage … The swagger of the music hits the stage like a shot of one hundred year old whiskey going down … smooth …

Did you hear about the Midnight Rambler?
He’ll leave his footprints up and down your hall
Did you hear about the Midnight Rambler?
Did you see me make my midnight call

The first song started the dance. The swaying. The gyrating to match Raymond’s words and drummer Sascha Tukatsch’s motions. Sexiness from above – sexiness from below. A melting pot overflowing with lust and desire. The dance continued …

I was raised by a toothless bearded hag ..I was schooled with a strap right across my back …

The Brides the villains, the patrons – victims. Seduction in the form of foreplay. Crescendos obtaining higher platforms of musical orgasms. Hand – clenching feelings provided by the blues. The devil’s music. Danger at every step – overstepping boundaries which the patrons instill on their children ..

If I could stick a knife in my heart
Suicide right on stage
Would it be enough for your teenage lust
Would it help to ease the pain? Ease your brain?

Just one show. Two sets of rhythmic adultery. Layered in the proper theft of a soul caged like a animal with instincts so sublime. Passion. Passion and more sultry glances and demonic bass via Matt Greenberg. Wicked tempos silhouetted by tenderness disguised with a scowl.

I’ll never be your beast of burden
So let’s go home and draw the curtains
Music on the radio
Come on baby make sweet love to me