I enjoyed hearing a new band this afternoon/evening -- the Informants. (Like every band everywhere, they have a myspace page with samples for the overcurious.) I'm a sucker for saxophones, of which these people had an abundance, both tenor & bari. The bari guy also played flute, which he left in the bell of his sax when playing it instead of the flute. He also quadrupled on trombone for a couple songs, in addition providing comic relief, frequently via his costume choice, a utilikilt. Fun was had by all.

The girl singer's Pat Benatar hairstyle distracted me for quite a while, for reasons I wonder about, I confess. The waitress's cleavage also distracted me, for all too obvious reasons, especially when she chose the moment standing next to me to make sure her tip money was tucked way, way over in the left cup of her bra. She took my comment that she had missed a spot with good grace. Despite rather slow service, she got a decent tip (although I paid by card, so I doubt it made the transition to her underwear). Apparently I am still a Guy. 

We almost missed the planned outing to see this band. I say 'we' because my friend Melissa was going along, after professing a desire to go hear some music but repeatedly finding excuses not to go. I got word that my favorite of favorites, Filthy Children, would be playing at my favorite bar, Herb's, on Friday. (Warning: Herb's website lies.) She'd heard FC with me more than a year ago, and she was all set to brave the rigors of downtown, trekking in from her home way out in the 'burbs. That occasion was a bit of a trial for her, as it was the night of Ivy's birthday party, and I kept getting drunk dials and text msgs from Jane. But then I learned about the Informants and figured she'd like that better, plus I'd not have to hear about all the phone hassles from the previous time. So the plan changed, and we were to meet at the venue (Lincoln's Roadhouse, whose website is so awful I decline to link it) at 7:30 for dinner and to get a decent table.

Except I double-checked this afternoon during a bevvy break in my house renovation toilage and discovered that the show was 3:30 to 8pm, more or less, rather than starting at the more familiar 9-9:30 pm. Hey, it's a holiday weekend and everybody has tomorrow off. Why would they not have evening music? But the Sunday afternoon show is apparently something of a thing at this place, and a popular one, as it was packed. I know that, because I made a quick call to Melissa, leaving a voicemail as she was napping like the uberslacker she is. Fortunately, an enormous thunderstorm woke her up, and she returned my call. We decided to schlep down in mid-show & take our chances. It worked out fine.

Plus I did the FC show on Friday on my own (or anyway the first set and a few songs of the second, before the crowd of ardent youth assembling got too heavily on my nerves, and I had to bail). So lots of live music this weekend, which is good.