Back in a distant corner of every casino lies a bar, a stage, a band and an audience of five. These lounge lizards may have a reptilian nickname, but they are far from cold-blooded musicians. The energy exerted from these performers can only be matched by the lack of ears listening to them perform. But the small audiences only accentuate how heroic lounge bands have become. Every hero has a tragic flaw.
Lounge heroes have five.
They are closing in on 50, their hairlines are past the receding point, they feel the synthesizer is an underutilized instrument and they were absent when leisure suits were deemed horrific to look at. This weekend was different. I like to set goals, albeit obscure goals, so I decided Friday to stake my claim on the Biltmore lounge. This band put all other lounge acts to bed without supper. OK, they haven't overcome the hairline flaw and they wore crushed velvet vests for Sunday night's performance, but these guys rocked.