I’m just back from a virtoustic show at the Iron Horse by Dennis Brennan. He’s a clear singer, poignant writer, and tender ennuciator of lovely songs that he played tonight at the Northampton theater stage. It was a celebration of the guitar, a championing of the instrument, so many fantastically talented guitarists, playing in harmony, so many different ways.
It was jazz, it was rock, it was softer drifting almost into classical…no, jazz, really engaging. The Horse’s famous acoustics did him proud, with the softest tinest most delicate notes being strummed by Kevin Barry.
The band would slowly, quietly, back into a song.. then they would step down onto a lower level and booooomm! They’d let loose with a streaming, rollicking funky celebration of the guitar!
He sings a song about Charlestown hoods, taunting them to get in touch with him. It reminded me of looking for Whitey Bulger. “But that was in Southie,” Bill leaned over and told me. “Not Charlestown.”
This band blended the talents of many into a streaming, pulsing, intoxicating mix that is made better by the smart and poignant lyrics. Joe made an excellent choice by putting me in touch with this band. WOW! What a night out!
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