Despite the Flogging Molly rumors that flew --- and that proved to be wrong --- The Street Dogs show Monday, March 5, at Water Street was one of the best Irish-drenched punk shows I've seen in a long time. Ex-Dropkick Murphy frontman Mike McColgan exudes blue collar pride and ethic in his music and in the way he carries himself. The band was fast and loud, the tunes anthemic and inspiring, including a Stiff Little Fingers cover in the encore slot. The exuberant vibe on the dance floor (which can get overridden with frustration and testosterone) was positive and fun, especially when McColgan surfed on top, bringing his message straight to the kids. Flogging Molly's Dennis Casey got up for a couple of tunes playing so fast he looked like a guitar-weilding Venus de Milo.

I got there as The UV Rays were winding down. I know this is a raw band that everyone digs screaming in their faces in little joints, but put ‘em through a real big PA and, holy shit, they sound outstanding.

The Rays were followed by Swedish punks Two Point Eight, who rocked old-style punk a la the Clash. The audience went nuts for these guys even though they're relatively unknown. It was cool to see guitarist Fredrik Eriksson sit down to tickle the ivories in the dressing room after the set. He wailed jazzy and ragged like a drunken Muppet.

A show like David "Fathead" Newman's Thursday night engagement at Venu will put some cut in your strut and some glide in your stride. It does the same thing to my speech sometimes. Dig:

Burned most of a Lincoln on steamy cup o joe/Situatin' in Venu for Fathead to come and blow/The man was cool/Perched on his stool/He rapped all tiptoe quiet/But when he laid attacks/On his sax/Man he honked a riot/He poured it out for the hipster set and for Brother Ray/Giving way for detours so his band could shine and play/Making the scene/Seemed mighty keen/With cosmos, cocktails, and kind/And when Fathead blew/All the fine folks knew/Georgia's still on his mind.