A Man Called Ginger: The Wildhearts Come To New York

I can't remember the last time The Wildhearts played in NYC. Whenever it was, I know I wasn't there. This weekend, Ginger and the boys are back in town, and I will be there.

Here's a bit of what All Music says about The Wildhearts:

The Wildhearts were the kind of band that the British rock press has wet dreams about: creatively brilliant, completely out-of-control, and utterly doomed from day one. Led by charismatic lunatic Ginger, the group's turbulent career lived up to the highest (or lowest, as it were) expectations, with all the ups and downs of a roller-coaster ride, which, after numerous frightening twists and turns, finally derailed in spectacular fashion. But not before yielding a wealth of inspired hard rock and literally miles of even more entertaining magazine copy.

(more from AMG here)

MY TWO CENTS:

The Wildhearts take the pop power of the Raspberries and Cheap Trick, the volume of a mid-seventies Deep Purple concert, the balls and chunk of the Foo Fighters, the audacity of Kathie Lee Gifford, and the cool of every punk single you bought in your favorite record store in 1979, and serve it up HOT. There were so many videos to choose from, but most suffered from horrible sound. (I can hear my regular, non-rocking readers' contemptuous snorts as I write this) I chose these because I chose these.

I love this band. Get into it.