CHRIS DUARTE GROUP 9 p.m., Juanita's. $10 adv., $12 d.o.s.
Confession: I don't get dudes who play electric guitar. Rather, I don't
get Dudes Who Play Electric Guitar. So much of their panache seems so
unaware, so self-serving. I'm talking about the gear fetishism, the
fine-tuned tone snobbery, the obscene ponytail ratio, the grotesque
facial contortions. I'm talking about the race to see who can play the
most unnecessary notes in the shortest amount of time. So I have Dudes
Who Play Electric Guitar filed in the “I'll never get this” drawer
right alongside “improvisational comedy” and “saxophones.” But that's
not to say there isn't incredible skill and discipline displayed on
stage and on record by self-styled guitar virtuosos like Chris Duarte.
After a coming-of-musical-age in 1980s Austin, a mecca for Texas
blues-jazz guitar, and receiving Guitar Player's “Best New Talent”
award in '95 (not to mention fourth in the magazine's “Best Blues
Guitarist” category behind a helluva triumvirate — Clapton, Guy, and
King), Duarte's older, wiser and bringing his power trio to Juanita's
for a night of, well, electric guitar music. If it's down your alley,
then this is a must-see. The Joe Pitts Band opens.
When President-elect Trump announced he would, in a few days, force Congress to enact comprehensive health insurance for everyone, poor or rich, that would provide better and cheaper care than they've ever gotten, you had to wonder whether this guy is a miracle worker or a fool.
Robocalls -- recorded messages sent to thousands of phone numbers -- are a fact of life in political campaigns. The public doesn't like them much, judging by the gripes about them, but campaign managers and politicians still believe in their utility.