Supremajor, Fontana’s, Lower East Side NYC, Feb. 1

Supermajor — still and again and forever the band breaking into my brainwidth on some haunted signal from the satellite dashboard, with three-part gospel opera, keytar riffing off the tuned-out static of the spheres, melodies levitating on the hydrogen Cadillac breeze in your hair and axe-heroics sped into some cavern dive-bar star-canopy mountain-tunnel with nothing but the spirit winds to pick up on the dial. Life’s too short but eternity is three-and-a-half minutes so switch stations here and don’t make out the words.


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