THE BAD DIRECTIONS ________________________________________ Dear Diary, I went to see my girlfriends, boyfriends band at the Blue Mule a couple days ago... THE BAD DIRECTIONS. Now, I know I fall in love with rock stars too easy, but these guys, I LOVED THEM SO MUCH!! I think they might call themselves "country music." which I can forgive them for, since they were everything there is to love about country music, and nothing there is to hate. Like... they had that deep, deep soul, that drips like sweat off the south, but no hideous twang to the vocals, no intolerably cheesy lyrics, no dorky, unintelligent behavior, no spittoons on stage or anything. During their set I felt like I was driving some cool stolen car through, like, the skull valley of Nevada, trying to pull myself out of a week long lucid dream. It was awesome! The lead singer was Bradly. Amy yelled in my ear in between drags, "he has the cutest spirit ever," and, I think she's probably right. He was sorta pale, and didn't look anything like the front man of a country band would. He had on this sweet, unassuming thrift store t-shirt, and leather pants you could tell he was really proud of. I don't know why, but he reminded me of ferris bueler. He seemed like the type of guy that would sit next to me and make me laugh 'till I peed my pants in science class, then fall asleep and wake up later with a pencil stuck to his face. So it was awesome that he was up there playing music that makes you feel like a criminal. It was like some sorta strange miracle. The drummer is Carlos... that's Amy's guy. He wears a cowboy hat. his beat was so soulful and steady and loud. It sounded like what I imagine the heartbeat of the earth to sound like. Anyway, this is a country band capable of stealing the heart of a bohemian democrat into yoga and crystals. that's pretty amazing. I'm not into crystals, I don't know why I said that. peace out- Cricket.