Night Rally

People in the rollicking crowd were slinging drinks into the air, and the band was a jumble of floored musicians by the end of most numbers. Some guy in the front row handed lead singer Jeremiah Kidwell a can of PBR, evidently hoping the punch-drunk frontman would shower the crowd with it. Instead, Kidwell took a big mouthful of beer, bent down and spewed it straight into the mouth of the unsuspecting fan, whose face was upturned, mouth open, like a baby bird.

It's a tradition among Pitch music editors to bestow a few unofficial awards to special showcase performances, so I'll note a few briefly, but first: Come to the awards show Friday night at the Uptown and find out who the hell won. Host Brodie Rush is hilarious and amazingly talented, and the whole thing will be a blast, I swear.

Best Hooies!: the Wilders, who stood in a country cluster onstage in their classy garb and proved themselves the most fun and adorable traditional band of any kind in the Midwest.

Best Example of Owning It: Onemilliontinytinyjesuses, who didn't care that their Catholic cardinal outfits, golden robot helmets, and dissonant electroclash were out of place at the Beaumont. (We booked them there just to test them, heh, heh.)

Best Rescue: Millage Gilbert and his band, who, when Boy Big didn't show up to play, gladly added an extra hour to their set.

Best Musician Not Nominated for an Award: bearded Westport street guitarist James Champ, who jammed on the sidewalk outside Kelly's for spare change and smiles.

Best Sideman: my wife, Adrienne, who looked good, partied hard and bought us hot dogs at the end of the night.