Long-time readers will probably understand that last night's bill of Allison Moorer and Steve Earle was pretty much a dream come true for randomness. Two favorites, one small venue in New Haven with a spot in the front row. Not too shabby.

Some things, though, didn't quite work out as I'd planned. I knew that Allison wasn't touring with her ace road band (which for a short time included Television's Richard Lloyd) but I didn't know that she had a guy playing a Les Paul through her whole set. It, um, didn't work. Allison's strength is her amazing voice (and, I'll admit it, her drop-dead gorgeous appearance). This guy's desire to be Joe Satriani really detracted from her stuff. I mean, she's up there singing a song about watching her father kill himself and her mother (a true story, by the way) and he thinks it's "Purple Haze." Not good. She was, however, in amazing voice.

Steve's set was heavy on the new album and was honestly one of the best shows I've seen in a long while. He played for two hours and rarely interrupted the flow with one of his patented long tirades. I sorta missed some of those. There's no time like the present for my favorite Marxist to spout off. What I didn't appreciate, though, was the volume. Yow! My front row perch was right in front of Steve's guitar stack. Loud became painful when he decided that feedback was fun. Nice touch, my friend. Nice touch.