Committed to the Naked

I got stood up and I didn't know a soul. It was an awesome evening.

Okay, so maybe not stood up, but clearly there was a communication malfunction because I thought I was meeting a friend at Heritage at 5:30 and I was still flying solo at 7:00.

No big deal.

I amused myself with happy hour wine (Silver Ridge Pinot Noir) and old cookbooks in the back of the restaurant.

The dusty tomes were particularly satisfying since I found recipes for chicken and tongue sandwiches and stuffed veal hearts from a happy housewife cookbook from the '30s.

When I finally faced the fact that I must have been mistaken about our date, I ordered  gnocchi with roasted apple, house-cured bacon, onion "butter" and thyme.

The subtle interplay of the sweet apples and salty bacon was impressively executed.

By the time I finished that, it was time to head to the Bottom to Globehopper for music.

It was my first time catching Naked Songs, a monthly series where singer/songwriters with one instrument are invited to play up to four songs.

The series' posters are gorgeous, all naked bodies, male and female.

The emphasis is on original music, although each singer is allowed one cover song.

Since I got there a little late, I missed the first singer entirely.

When I expressed concern to the cashier as I bought my wine and Rice Krispie treat (as thick as two decks of cards), she reassured me that there'd be more singers.

All of the front seats were taken, but I found one overstuffed chair in the back available and grabbed it.

As if on cue, the moment Frank deAlto began playing his guitar and singing, everyone around me began jabbering.

I tried not be annoyed. After all, it was a coffee shop, not a listening room.

On the other hand, it's not that big  a space and their loud voices seemed rude over an acoustic performance.

I think my favorite line was, "I'm going down that river and doing my own kind of crying," but I can't swear I got that right because of the incessant chatter.

When Frank finished his three songs, none of which I fully heard, I jumped ship and moved to the front next to the woman doing sound for the musicians.

Hey, it's a free country and I can sit wherever I like.

The sound board operator announced that Blair Simpson was next and that, "He's our first naked keyboardist, by the way."

Apparently all the former naked songsters used guitars.

Blair's songs leaned toward upbeat pop with an occasional foray into young man heartfelt ("She's on her second try, Maybe she'll get it right one day") and had a lush sound courtesy of his nimble fingers.

So nimble, in fact, that he shorted out his keyboard on the first song.

A quick recovery followed.

He closed with his one allotted cover song, "Home" by Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros, doing an especially fine job on the spoken parts, both male and female, to great hilarity.

Next up was Kristen Haze, the show's organizer and sound operator.

She opened with a cover of "Making Pies" by her favorite songwriter, Patty Griffin and her beautiful voice wrapped itself around Griffin's song.

For her own song, "Rhythm," she said, "It should have a lot of percussion behind it, but we'll have to make do because this is Naked Songs."

As it happened, a guy in a nearby chair took up some rhythmic hand clapping to accompany her in lieu of the missing percussion.

It's good to hear a little skin on skin when you're listening to naked songs.

Favorite lyric: "The brain knows better than this, but the body wants you to stay."

The last performer of the evening was Andrew Rohlk ("Rhymes with folk," he said with a smile) who proceeded to dazzle us with his incredibly well-crafted pop songs, a wide-ranging voice and mad guitar skills.

You know that guitar break in Prince's "Kiss"? Yea, that kind of thing was slid effortlessly into Andrew's folk/rock pastiche.

After acknowledging that, "I rocked pretty hard on that last one, so I'll need to tune," he introduced "Put You in a Song," from his soon-to-be-completed record.

"That guy had the right idea," he said, pointing to the clapper. "Clap along if you feel it."

Of course, people did, causing him to grin and say afterwards, "You guys really committed to the clapping."

Favorite lyric: "Cross my mind both night and day, till they run together like a shade of gray."

For his last song, a cover, he explained that he works in a day care, so he'd chosen his Halloween costume accordingly.

"And that's what led me to learn this song," he said, going into the "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood" theme song.

When he got to the part, "It's a neighborly day in this beautywood, A neighborly day for a beauty," he paused and asked rhetorically, "What does that even mean?"

I doubt Fred Rogers himself had a clue.

He took the song through any number of flourishes - vocally, with his guitar and even with his volume- before winding it down to unanimous applause.

Looking around as I clapped, it occurred to me that I didn't know a soul in the room and that's a rarity when I go out for music in this town.

About time I tried something new and naked.

Better yet, with Rice Krispies treats.

And, I might add, my own percussion.