I know almost nothing about The Lonely H. My experiences with this group of long-haired youngsters is pretty much relegated to the undying love my good friends and editors Abbey Simmons and Josh Lovseth have lauded on them over the years. And you know what? That’s like a Willy Wonka-style Golden Ticket. This is Grandpa Joe hopping out of bed in his pajamas to hobble on over to the factory and have wonders of delight sprayed about his wizened head.
What I’m getting at here is that though I don’t always agree with Josh and Abbey, there recommendation is an invitation I rarely turn down.
Thus, tomorrow night I’ll be front and center at Bottom of the Hill in Potrero to enjoy the 70s country rock ‘n’ roll of The Lonely H. I will feel the urge to smoke cigarettes and pump my fist and swill cheap whiskey.
Opening are Leopold and His Fiction and The Blank Tapes.
Show starts at 10pm, Bottom of the Hill.