Moonshine is a wonderful, welcoming establishment that still feels like a friend’s apartment. It’s a place to sit, relax, get a drink, grab some grub, to get a tattoo. All the good things, all the good things. It also has a red-orange disco ball. Mesmerizing.
Most likely due to it’s aforementioned eclecticity, took a only few minutes to convert its second floor balcony into it’s new form as an impromptu stage for the evening’s acts which consisted of TC Costello, the ranting accordionsmith, Henry Demos, the man with the gams, and eeeho, who I had not yet met. (Foreshadowing. I met her. She’s nice.)
It was one of those nights that started out with everyone being quiet and introspective, where we were all secretly wishing it was raining. Oh, and that there was a fireplace, and everyone was in wooly sweaters. Maybe it was just me. The privileged 10 or so people there found a comfortable chair and relaxed, staring at each other an smiling verse to verse, talking with eeeho and each other between songs. It was oddly comforting, like the 50s, but for everyone.
Look. It’s Christmas, and I’m just off a turkey coma, from having actual turkey on Christmas for the first time since I moved to Asia, or maybe last year, and I’m listening to 50s baby boomer Christmas songs.
I may be a somewhat unreliable narrator at this point, but let me say that you and I should hang at Moonshine sometime, or maybe an eeeho show. You’ll see the good. And you know I ain’t steered you wrong yet.
Unfortunately though, my recorder, being used to live shows with excessive amplification, slightly underperformed for this session, but with headphones, in a quiet room with a fireplace, maybe while it’s raining outside, I think you can capture the mood decently enough.
I’m going to turn this on and let it help me sleep off this turkey.