Last Friday, Peter and I went to watch a friend's band play in a neighboring town. They sounded tight, played plenty of the same stuff Peter has on his Ipod, and we were happy. Their guitarist that night was a wailer who'd played with Marshall Tucker and some other big bands. He brought the house down.
After they finished, another band by the name of Trag set up, and I said to Peter, "They have a tough act to follow."
Trag started playing. The singer blew me away; her voice had Ann Wilson's power, but it came out like cool water (check out "On the Way Down" on their Myspace page, although it sounds better live). They performed mostly originals, each one better than the last. I usually don't get into songs on a first listen, but they hooked me right away.
After the set, the drummer chatted with me. We discovered we live in the same town. He told me he was married to the singer with the major voice and met her in a university music program.
I told him they were great, bought a copy of his CD, and went home.
The next day, I played it. Five times. I read the liner notes and found that the drummer had written all but one song. A lot of them deal with his love for his wife: "Every time I see you, Nora, you take my breath away."
It thrilled me to meet yet another man who defies the "guy stereotype" the media foist upon women (Exibit A: Bret Michaels; Exibit B: fellows in Axe Body Spray commercials), a male who clearly has a lot going for him and is utterly besotted with one female.
Women, raise your expectations.