Hot Damn, Come Back Soon

Sometimes you gotta give back what wasn't yours in the first place.

Richmond's loss is Gainesville's, well, gain.

The lovely Julie Karr is returning home to Gainesville and tonight was her last show in Richmond.

So after a rainy day spent driving out to the Northern Neck and back, nothing sounded as appealing as a three-block walk to Gallery 5 for music.

I got there early enough to have to compete with an ear-splitting sound check to discuss a friend's cute new dresses and how to ride on bikes with them without, you know, flashing people.

Seems she's just discovered the glories of wearing a dress in the summertime and is trying to acquire them as rapidly as possible.

I've been doing the same for decades. Dresses are easy; no coordination required.

And speaking of coordination, first up was Hot Dolphin, and while I knew all the members in other  bands, I'd never experienced this configuration.

The drummer came from the Diamond Center and the guitarist and bassist from Tyrannosaurus Awesome.

Out in front was Lindsey, dressed oh-so fetchingly in a "hot damn" t-shirt, shorts and a head scarf.

She. Never. Stopped. Dancing.

As if it wasn't enough to shake her scarf-tied tambourine and growl out garage pop, she kicked and pranced and jumped and danced to every song she sang.

By the third song, she ripped the cute scarf off her head and tossed it to the side of the stage.

Extra layer? Unnecessary.

When she said the next song owed a debt to Bo Diddley, audience-member Julie Karr yelled, "He lived in Gainesville!"

Gesturing with her hands, Lindsey humorously observed, "And it all comes full circle."

Cue Elton John music.

And now Julie is returning to the land of Bo Diddley.

As a friend pointed out, "I can't let myself be sad about Julie leaving, so I'll be angry that we're losing such a talented musician."

On Hot Dolphin's last song, "Animal," Lindsey exorcised her anger with more frenetic dancing, ending to big applause.

The next band took long enough to get set up that I walked outside to enjoy the lovely night air where drummer Tim looked half-melted sitting on the sidewalk having a cigarette post-set.

I couldn't help but admire that at nearly 9:15, the sky was still blue, not dark.

Summer is a beautiful thing.

I hadn't seen Little Master before, but a friend said she'd seen them and they'd done a Brian Eno cover, impressive enough for her to recall.

They played more covers tonight along with original stuff, but mostly I just watched the drummer's hands blur as he worked up a sweat keeping the requisite punk pop beat driving.

And sculpting nice arms.

By the time they finished, the show went into overdrive because the last band included Julie, our soon-to-depart songstress, and it had to be over by 11:00.

They chose to set up on the floor rather than on the stage, putting them in the middle of the crowd and making for a much more intimate vibe for their set.

Saying, "We're going to get started. I'm Bad and this is Magic," she gestured to Jimmy from White Laces on drums and Tim, whom we'd already seen, on bass.

If you never heard Julie sing during the years she was here, shame on you, because she's got a distinctively earthy voice unlike any other in this town.

I'd never seen her in this project, which was so straight-ahead rock that she was even playing an electric guitar, something I'd yet to see her do.

It's always been an acoustic.

But tonight the trio was going hard and sounding good and at one point she looked  around and said, "There's not a single person here I don't recognize. Thank you all for coming."

This is the part where people were trying not to feel sad about her going to graduate school in Florida.

When she noticed how late it was getting she rearranged the remaining set list, saying, "We're crunching on time-age. We need to step it up."

Between songs, Tim told a joke about the difference between a rubber and a rattlesnake,

"Nothing, I don't want to f*ck with either," he deadpanned.

Ba-dum-bum.

Facing him with her guitar poised, Julie said, "As a soon-to-be health care professional, I say don't tell that joke again."

I don't know if you can tell Tim what to do, but she sure sounded serious.

Then it was back to the business of rocking as Bad Magic finished out their final set.

It felt a little emotional.

But everyone there wishes Julie nothing but the best, so the evening ended with many hugs and farewells.

But let's not focus on that. Better to focus on being mad at losing one of the really good ones.

If we're lucky, she'll cycle back through Richmond again someday.

Cause she's Bad.