Your Own Dark Side of The Border, Tonight - An Evening With Angie McMahon
Wow . And he says it after every song, for at least the first few songs in her set. Saying in the space that forms when the final note rings out into the ether, but before the rest of the audience begins to applaud, or cheer, and well before Angie McMahon moves herself back toward the microphone and says, “Thank you.” Wow . It makes sense, I guess. The first time it happens. After McMahon had finished playing the moody, swooning “Fireball Whiskey,” the first song of her 14-song set, It makes sense to be so moved, or so impressed, or awestruck, or overtaken with a sense of genuine surprise, or whatever, by what you are witnessing on stage, that you will, perhaps, in that silence that descends upon the room, when she’s sung the final line and strummed the last chord on her electric guitar, but before the audience, as a whole, has a chance to respond appropriately—well, maybe you will feel compelled to let the single syllable word, said in complete and total earnestness, slip from your mo