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We're in sync on Aliens. All killer, no filler. I saw that band on that tour, from the second row. It was magnificent.
Avalon plays 24 hours in the ideal lounge in your mind. Its beat seeps in through the carpet, up through the seat, and controls your soul. Little saxes and guitars nip at you from behind curtains. A single spotlight from above widens to a solitary soul with a cigarette. Our hero is cool like Bogey or Clint, impeccably dressed, and dark and mysterious. You feel comfortable, and yet there is something strange about it, something compelling. Maybe it's the drink.
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