Tuba Christmas was big and brassy, with more than 200 tubas decking Midtown Plaza's halls Saturday afternoon. But it wasn't nearly as loud as I'd hoped. I guess because the instrument occupies such a low register it came off more as a warm hum than a bombastic blast. Memories of dates with grandma and riding the monorail with my sister assailed me despite the place looking gutted and dingy like a skid row bus station. Still, it was festive and fun.

It was a fistful of rock 'n' roll with the Chesterfield Kings/UV Rays/New York Vaults triple bill at das German House Saturday night. This joint actually sounds good with loud music blasting from its stage. And it was loud. The Vaults got things rolling minus a guitar player, which would've gone unnoticed if they hadn't said anything. However, the band's killer studio work has created a pretty high standard. It sounds good stripped down, but man, I'd like to hear - and see - those powerhouse female vocals live every time. The UV Rays played raw and loud as always; a truly beautiful rock 'n' roll band in spite of itself. And don't let singer Kevin Wilcox's stupid-is-as-stupid-does persona fool ya. He's one smart motherf**ker.

The Kings careened and kerranged loud and loose. From the Mose Allison start to the Stones finish, the band rocked relentlessly. I've been diggin' the Kings since 1983 and have kinda taken for granted that it's always gonna be a great show. And it was. Old hits, new hits, honkin' harp, screamin' guitars, and the freight train thunder of a rhythm section in love with the big beat.

Dug the Gore Gore Girls even later that night as they rocked the Bug Jar like the Shangri-Las with some mean Motown muscle and a triple Gretsch attack. You can't hear 'em, but music swings a whole lot sexier whenever go-go boots stomp the stage. But these boots and mini-dresses are a trap, man; those gorgeous Gore Gore girls rock like a bunch of nasty boys.