June 26, 2008
BY JASON SONGE
I've arrived late to the Bruisers party, or train, but better late than never. The Bruisers have been playing the Circle Bar for years, but last Thursday night there, they played furiously loose, like it was their last stab at writing a line on the tablet of existence.
I arrived halfway into the set, when the real fans were starting to pile in, but when they were also not quite ready to throw their unwavering allegiance on the Bruisiers. This went both ways. The Bruisers were still playing ballads and mid-tempo numbers at this point, so it made sense for the crowd to sit down and tap knees, feet, and heads.
But there comes a special point; maybe people would call it a vanishing point or surpassing an edge. A point where tapping a foot becomes almost pounding a foot, when there are suddenly two drinks in your hands, where the first couple or two have taken courageously to the dancefloor. A synergy picks up between audience and band, and the tempos increase as the liquor flows faster.
It was the point where presentation of songs and their sacred nature became secondary to keeping the party going. So, the tempo increased, and the trio's mix of country, punk, and R&B was condensed into some kind of infallible, glorious mass. Like a rollercoaster ascending with no chance of slowing. Things got fun real quick, with people throwing their bodies and the band screaming and Mary T playing the drums standing up.