Friday night and I was still getting goofy on the purple flowers. This time it was John Brown's Body, the one-drop jamsters from Ithaca. Gone was the reggae pastiche the band had originally distracted me with a couple years ago. This time the band hovered mid-tempo for most of the set. It was funky and the groove was deep. Frontman Elliot Martin bounded about the stage in a perpetual half gallop, intoning and chanting between sweet blasts from the brass. But I gotta hand it to the drummer (lately I've been watching drummers more closely). Tommy Benedetti flipped the beat - as you do in reggae - but pulled this trick where he doubled his hits with secondary hits at half volume to give off a keen, eerie echo effect.

The Electro Kings were sardined into Beale Street's window when I rolled up with the ball (that's right, there ain't no chain; I do what I want, dammit). It's harder than you think to play blues of the jump variety and resist the urge to put the pedal to the floor.

Korn put on an incredible show Monday night at The Armory along with Burn Halo, a band that reminded me of Guns ‘n' Roses, The Stooges, and Alice In Chains rolled into one. The band was heavy but mixed straight-up rock with the massive volume, displaying more attitude than out-and-out rage. Korn on the other hand is rage personified and musicified. I wasn't a fan of this type of metal when it first hit the bricks, but I got to thinking: this band is so heavy and so intense that two of its members split and found God. That's some heavy shit. I wasn't a fan when I walked in Monday night, but I am now.