Music Monday

And I see you hiding your face in your hands
Talking bout far-away lands
You think no one understands
Listen to my hands
Alexi Murdoch - Song for You

H Street NE is an "up-and-coming" neighborhood in DC, and home to the relatively new venue on the scene - Rock and Roll Hotel. What that looks like is a bunch of emo/mellow music enthusiasts (me included) crowding around freezing on an otherwise desolate street on a Sunday night at 10 p.m. to watch Alexi Murdoch - a folksy/acoustic/Nick-Drake-ish-type fellow from Glasgow perform music from his album Time Without Consequence.

Murdoch's voice - backed up only by guitars - is at once syrupy and crisp. Kind of like hot waffles in the dark. It really just pours over you, and I think you can pick this up simply by listening to his CD -- but it hits you even more when he's performing live. His voice and the guitars were the sole energy in the [hot and airless] room, and it easily filled the space. The audience, a captivated and absolutely still cluster of fans, stood with mouths slightly ajar, heads tilted back to get a better view. Bravo. Murdoch also sports my latest fashion obsession, the "Communist beard."

I strongly encourage you to spend upcoming frigid Sunday nights lying in bed, half-watching the snow fall outside, and half-listening to Alexi Murdoch.