Pernice Envy

Last night, my buddy Sach (his real last name is Sachtleben. He can't help it.) saw the Pernice Brothers at the Bluebird Theater in Denver. He said it was great, as it should be.

I love the Pernice Brothers. They make achingly beautiful pop music. But the Pernice Brothers must hate Texas because they've never played here before.

That's OK. I drove 850 miles one way to see them in Kansas City two summers ago. It was worth it.

But Sach got to see them at the Bluebird, a really cool old converted movie theater that is perfect to see a band like the P Brothers. It's not too big and not too small, perfect for seeing a genius band that few people know about. At the Bluebird, it's so intimate that you feel like the band is playing just for you, not the rest of the audience. That's the best way to explain it.

And Sach got to see them for the first time. Seeing a great band for the first time is like your first hit of heroin --- there's nothing else that will match the first time.

I'm starting to hate Sach.