An historic Friday the 13th yellow harvest moon shining a light on an outdoor Jack White show, his Raconteurs going off like Roman candles for the better part of two hours – could there be any summer's night of musical intensity more spectacularly supernatural?
Maybe a Def Leppard/Whitesnake/Blackstone Cherry return-of-the-wish-they-were-still-dead tour, for sure. Or maybe not.
Just kidding, kids. Thus it was at a heavily attended PromoWest amphitheater one warm and humid evening last month, the moon at its advertised farthest-away apogee in a dozen years (a minimoon they call it as opposed to a supermoon which is closest).
Nothing mini about the music that night, strictly super. But I think the infamous numeral of bad luck; the rare cosmic distance between earth and luna; and Jack White's personal nuclear energy made the night one very special bunch of loose ends coming together and sparking maniacally like the devil's lightning.
Exciting as hell!