Wonder Writer

Patrice Pike - -she's sunshine.   With her white hat, smooth lyrics and bright light, she's happiness personified. She sings blues.  She sings sadness with want. She cuts lyrics like an expert chef chops. Her metaphors mash up stories within stories. Blonde hair.  Artists arm. Army camo pants. Badass hat. Bright smile. Wicked dance moves. She's contagiously charming. And, she had a voice married to the guitar's howl.  But, more than her range of apparent talent, was her joy for being there- -her dare to spread her wings and SOAR. She is shining. She's the message of own it, and by all means shine.  To me, she was that dare-to-know-your-worth and set it free for the world to know it too. Yep, Patrice Pike. Pretty perfect.

This man. He is soul. He is gospel guitar explosion.  Walking in, it was like when Willie hits the stage, or when The Resentments are in their groove. You are floored, and you realize you know nothing about music.  You know nothing. On that stage, when he sings, you realize what happens when talent bursts and gets its way. You get the feeling that there are no limits to that kind of miracle.  You just have to embrace it because its already embracing you with a firm grip. I think what a tragedy it would have been if he were behind a desk and hadn't followed through.  I saw him open for Sting in the 90s.  He was rockin' even then. He was this oh-my-God-do-you-see-what's-happening-in-front-of-you-explosion discovery. And, thank God that I can be here to see it because I sure can't explain it. And, to see him years later, I just had no words. I left the floor with my hand over my heart. It's centrifuge talent explosion.  Who is this man within a