A musician you may have heard of, who escaped from town and found a modicum of fame as a songwriter and producer in a warmer state, returned under cover of darkness last week. Quickly tiring of family reunions, he ventured downtown in search of a good band. How had the scene been since he graduated?

Our scene is diverse and majestic, but astonishes randomly, not reliably. Its pleasures are surprises more than guarantees. But our tourist happened to arrive on a magical night. Or perhaps you believe that the presence of someone whose interest in local music is genuine and deeply felt—not based on which bar stool he wants to sit in that night, or which musicians he happens to know from work or school—is the spiritual stimulant that makes a scene rise subconsciously to a new level. Or maybe the good fortune is that this interloper stumbled upon the best of all possible tour guides—yours truly.

Our tourist’s trek started badly, he related, but only I gave him vague directions and he stumbled into the wrong bar on Olympus. We take it for granted, but the Bullfinch has only been booking live bands for a few years now, and the only place on the block which our wandering friend remembered having any kind of stage was, of course, Sirens. He soon realized the error of his ways, and I found him happily at the Bullfinch while on my own rounds.

To be continued. He was realllly wandering. This may take a while.

Helluva club night coming this Thursday, never better. Could stray at any one venue and have a blast, but we’re gonna try to hit em all with friends plumbing in updates. Really, that good all over: Dying in the Post-War World and Stolen Away at the Bullfinch, Damned in Paradise and Carnal Hours (who do a killer cover of “Million Dollar Wound”) at Hamilton’s and a true legend, Majic Man, at Dollaire’s, with locals Neon Mirage opening. Our plan is to start at the Bull, then hit the middle of the Hamilton’s bill, then trace our steps back to the Bull. Majic Man is known to start late and play until after closing..,