There's nothing quite like rolling up on a joint with music spilling out of the cracks. The beautiful sounds of The Bottle Rockets' twang-centric soul roared from inside Abilene's tent like redneck puma in heat. I caught the roots-rock roustabouts' second show, which was modestly but enthusiastically attended.

The band was completely no frills; strictly denim, no dazzle except for the guitar work. Brandishing Les Pauls (Junior and Standard) through little tweed amps, guitarists Brian Henneman and John Horton mixed up the slash and twang with deep digs into their rural upbringing. It was loud and reckless. Think Crazy Horse even crazier.

I waited to hear "Slo Toms" off of "24 Hours A Day" but goddammit, they had already played it during the earlier set. "Waitin' On A Train" from the same platter would have to do, and it did. The band did a monster rave-up on the hysterical "Nancy," pointing out that the song's object of desire was now somewhere in her 70s. Yet had she been in front of the stage for this show I'm sure she would have found some go-go left in those boots. There was plenty of it squishing around in my sneakers by the time I stumbled out of the joint.

Friday night I'm looking to see Jane Monheit at Kilbourn, Little Red Suitcase at Xerox, and hopefully Jeff Beck at Kodak Hall.