You can go on about the beat, but it's really all about the cracks in between. 'Cause that's where the swing, the subtlety, and the groove lie, coiled 'n' ready - that's where the party's at. You can go on about the songs in a band's live set, but unless they're strung together somehow, they're nothing more than random spats. You need a segue. And New York City's garage fathers, The Fleshtones, are the high priests of the salacious segue. I first caught The Fleshtones more than 20 years ago. The band's music pulsed and pounded and never let up. As singer Pete Zaremba was strangling the last notes of one song out of his harp, guitarist Keith Streng was already kicking off the next. The drummer was non-stop crash and boom. There was rarely a place for the audience to applaud or stop dancing, so they just screamed the whole time and didn't stop moving. See? It's all about the segue - and momentum.
The Fleshtones play Sunday, April 13, 8 p.m., at the Bug Jar, 219 Monroe Avenue. $8-$10. 454-2966, bugjar.com.