The wind chill had pantsed the thermometer Thursday night, yet a few brave - or lost - souls and I made it to the Dino for Chris Beard and his stinging strings. I am now convinced there isn't a guitar neck long enough for this man, as he frequently has his hands in the upper register bordering on the body. All of the junior Beard's solos take off, but Gibson, Fender, somebody - anybody - has got to come up with a longer runway.

The $20 ticket price for The Chesterfield Kings' Christmas show Saturday at the German House might have weeded a few of the curious out. That's not to say the boys ain't worth it, it's just, well, times is hard, donchya know? Put for those who did pony up the green, The Kings put on a flawless show. The sound was raw and loud but well mixed, easily accommodating the additional players on the bandstand, in particular pianist Paul Nunes, who banged on the elephant teeth like a man possessed.

Tommy Brunett warmed up the stage with his beloved guitar pancake. Brunett laid it down Cash style, closing the set with one of my favorites, Brunett's own "Pushing Time." Hotel Reverie started the ball rolling with a few tunes I hadn't heard to an audience that was as confused as they were enthralled. This duo will make you think, like it or not. Me? I likey.

I've seen the Kings something like 1000, times so I split mid-set to see Red Hot Mess, a band I'm apparently not going to be able to see again as singer Kevin Wilcox is abandoning ship. For all its punk leanings, this band has at least one foot in classic rock. Consequently it's not as prone to unraveling. Still, Wilcox finds a way and then shrugs as if it isn't his fault. He's wily and sly and is going to be hard to replace. Good luck.