Do you listen or watch when a live band plays in a space as tight at the Velvet Lounge?
As a visual person, I watch. And Saturday night, it was a feast. Up on stage was Supercade a funky cool band fronted by Devon Randolph.
While my crew said her voice was Natalie Merchant-esque, when they could hear it over the too-loud cymbals, I wasn’t pinned in the back of the upstairs venue like they were.
No, I was upfront and drooling. Devon’s smoking hot lace-trimmed plaid miniskirt outfit was so naughty but nice I could overlook the Velvet Lounge’s acoustics.
I could even forget to grab a free post-gig CD, which hip-hop-MC-turned-indierock Supercade guitarist Tony Blankenship keeps trying to send me.
No need, Tony. I got my gig swag already. Seared into my brain.
This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs