I'm at my wholly uncharacteristic loss for words. Mind totally blown. Uploading 251 shots into iPhoto at the moment...
OK, I been waitin' for this night for a long time. Gonna post incrementally as I triage shots and upload the keepers. Let me start with two of the best.
We had a total crush of a house, packed in like never before. They were treated to an evening of priceless magic. Santa Fe and the Fat City Horns were on fire, and Paul and Kenny took it through the roof. Thank you Paul, thank you, Kenny. Yikes.
Paul's "Blue Cadillac" tore it up, and when Kenny came up, they launched into his legendary tune "This Is It," and the arrangement stomped the house into the floor. A Mount Everest of thundering Nast. A number of people I spoke with afterward had the same reaction I'd felt -- "please, don't let it ever end!"
Kenny's guitarist and keyboardist also sat in with him. The guitar cat (whose name I didn't get in the din) told me after the show "we had no idea, man, they just said 'we're goin' to hear some band.'"
One of our stalwart Champlin (and now Santa Fe) fans, Ronnie, flew in from Marin County just for this show. I'd met her last year when Bill was here at South Point with his Sons of Champlin (archival blog links here and here). Thanks for comin'! That is dedication.
Jeff Ray again opened for Jerry. He friggin' incinerated the guitar ride in "Brother to Brother."
Ronnie Gutierrez graced us with his presence and percussion chops!
OK, it's pushin' 4 a.m., I'm gonna upload some more shots and then crash. Will continue goin' through stuff tomorrow and write some more. Again, I don't know what to say to fully express what I just witnessed.
After they surgically cauterized the room with "This Is It," Kenny sang the lead on "Ain't That Peculiar?" It smoked as well. The standing-O roar of house as Kenny left the stage, man, shit...
At the end of "Blue Cadillac," -- it slammed so hard -- Paul shouted out ecstatically "OK, I'm never goin' home again." Lenny shot right back: "You are home, bro'."
Yep, that's how we all feel about you, St. Paul.
So, among the crazed, euphorically delighted fans in the Lounge last night were my kids. Particularly noteworthy was the effusive reaction my 25 yr old son Nick, who was totally awed.
This is the same smartass hombre (wonder where he gets that 'tude?) who had a great laugh at our expense 10-12 years ago when we were all riding back up the 15 from L.A. We kept noticing people passing us in the left lane, and pointing and laughing.
Nick had scrawled a "hostage note" and affixed it to the back seat driver's side window. It shouted "HELP!!! I've been kidnapped and am being forced to listen to Kenny Loggins music!"
Dal Segno al Fine