Joel Harrison's on-stage demeanor is like a boxer's telegraphed punch; you get a glimpse or hint of what's about to happen even if it's only for a split second. Harrison likes noise. But unlike those who wallow in it or allow it to dominate the proceedings until it descends into chaos, Harrison permits noise -rooted in an effects-laden guitar note or chord or pick slide -  to suggest where the music he plays on top might go. His interesting choice for a trio - guitar, bass, bassoon - jammed with the looped noise as if it were a fourth member. You'll rarely hear me refer to the addition of Steve Greene to anything as sanity. However in this case, Greene's substantial withdraws from his lush chord bank grounded Harrison's flights of fuzz a bit.

Like the Christians with their Jesus, the rock 'n' faithful gather around tweed amps and chatterbox mics in early January to celebrate Elvis Presley's birthday. I've argued before that Jerry Lee Lewis is the king of rock 'n' roll, if'n you don't count the busload of black r&b artists that were considered too much of a salacious threat to white America in the early 50's to count. Say what you will, but that Presley boy had some pipes and the music he, Scotty Moore, and Bill Black introduced is still as intoxicating and relevant today. Wednesday night at The Dinosaur, Albany's The Lustre Kings proved it as they hosted the b-day festivities. Folks like Bobby Henrie and the Goners, and Krypton 88 (Jim Via's digs into crooning's lower octaves were cool) got up to pay tribute. And in proving that rock 'n' roll is a-swingin' persuasion for a lower invasion, my take on "That's When Your Heartaches Begin" got the wife so hot 'n' bothered, she dragged me outta the joint before I could finish my root beer.