Roger Kuhn was righteously perched on the Boulder stage Saturday night beneath the shade of his summer straw. With one arm around my squeeze and the other around some steamin' blood of the bean, the cannoli in front of me didn't stand a chance. It was perfect; there was nowhere else I wanted to be. The cannoli vanished quickly but Kuhn's blues stuck. I can still hear 'em - the well-mannered holler, the one man call and response, the jingle jangle of his tambourined ankle, and the rhythmic abuse his guitar endured. And the man's banter is as engaging as

Buddhahood shows are consistently such off-the-hook fun, you just kinda take it for granted. The horn- and drum-driven polyrhythmic glee winds higher and tighter as the dance floor takes on a sort of joyous frustration; the people aren't just dancing out there, they're trying to fly. Guitarist/singer Tony Cavagnaro always waved the baton of this world beat parade; a reggae ringleader, the eye of the happy hippy hurricane.Thursday night at the Dinosaur was no different. The brass blasted, the rhythm section laid down the funk trench, and the crowd danced like bumper cars at a square dance. It wasn't going

Despite all the joy it professes, Christian church music is about as uplifting as wet cardboard. And the comatose recitation of prayers - you expect God to hear that? Well, that all changed last Thursday at Third Presbyterian Church as we all bid farewell to The Buddhahood's Tony Cavagnaro. It was a solemn affair, but the happiness and promise of his music bubbled beneath. The ceremony ended and The Buddhahood marched down the aisle like a Big Easy second line. The entire congregation followed out in a makeshift parade that erupted into dance spilling into the street and adjacent parking

Sometimes volume actually works. Generally in live rock 'n' roll, it winds up as an excuse, an over-compensation, something adhered to as protocol. Kids grow up being told rock 'n' roll must be loud. Very few artists, however, embrace the volume as a tool along with the beat, the melody, the lyrics, and the overall groove.Enter Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, sprung from the brilliant wreckage of The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Last night at Water Street Music Hall, the band's wall of volume was as integral to the sound as the psychedelic wash and mesmerizing beat. Roughly 300 people dug and

Sometimes volume actually works. Generally in live rock 'n' roll it winds up as an excuse, an over-compensation, something adhered to as protocol. Kids grow up being told rock 'n' roll must be loud. Very few artists, however, embrace the volume as a tool along with the beat, the melody, the lyrics, and the overall groove.Enter Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, sprung from the brilliant wreckage of The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Last week the band's wall of volume was as integral to the sound as the psychedelic wash and mesmerizing beat. Roughly 300 people dug and danced in Water Street Music