There’s this really cool coffee shop where I sometimes run into Kevin. It’s near The University – but a bit off the beaten track. It’s not one of those places loaded with kids ordering decaf, skim, free-range, triple lattes. This place is more laid back. They serve mostly esspresso and cups of French Roast. There’s a small selection of dry pastries, if you must. There are bowls of sugar on each table. The place looks like it’s been around forever. I think it was a cigar store and smoking lounge in the mid-’90s. Locals shop up and down the street.

There’s always something interesting playing when I stop in for my double esspresso. Mostly new stuff. When I first started going there, Rogue Wave was big. Them and Spoon, of course. I got turned onto that Malkmus album I love so in this shop. Then that Decembrists’ album was in heavy rotation, and for the next few weeks I’d “shoot” my esspresso and get on my way. Kevin liked that one, but he’s got broader tastes that I’ll ever have. I do try, and that’s not bad for a guy in my position.

Last week I stopped in and heard something that caught my ear. Hyperactive drums and percussion blasted out alongside slashing, Fripp-for-Big Note guitar chords. A high-pitched woman’s voice, with a hint of Asian teen prostitute, joined in. A bubbling organ part surfaced at points. I savored my double esspresso, thinking I’d stumbled on some supergroup involving members of The League of Gentleman and Art Bears.
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