We knew things were going to get interesting when Jim plugged his amp into the outlet and all the lights went out.

“Did I do that?” he asked, the ghost of Steve Urkel stumbling through the room.

A crack of thunder gave us our answer.

“I’m sure it’ll pass in a few minutes,” Nick said.

“Yeah,” I said. “The power’s never out for too long.”

We were wrong on both counts. The storm raged on, and the power stayed off, so we ran through an unplugged version of our set with Jim singing low and Nick slapping his thighs to keep time. By the time we finished, the rain had started to die down, but the power was still off.

“Do you think the Nail has power?”

Nick checked his phone. No word on the socials, so we gathered our gear and headed outside to find a massive tree limb on the ground just inches from Nick’s car. Further down the road, an uprooted tree was blocking the entire street.

The drive to the Nail was more of the same. Branches and trees blocked the roads we’d usally take. Cars were crushed. Traffic signals were out. Caution tape was already stretched across intersections where the storm hit the hardest.

Jim drove separately and got there first. When Nick and I arrived, the traffic signal outside the Nail was working. We took it as a good sign, but when we spotted Jim talking to the owner, Chris Braccili, and a bearded fella who turned out to be Anthony Sanders, who performs under the name Empty Heaven.

“Power’s out?”

“Power’s out,” Chris said. “I’ve owed this place for twenty-seven years and haven’t canceled a show yet. If you’re up for it, we can wait to see if it comes back on.”

We stood in the drizzling rain, weighing our options.

“Where are you coming from?” I asked Anthony.

“Chicago,” he said.

“Wow,” I said.

“I didn’t just drive here,” he said. “I’m on tour.”

“Still,” I said.

The bar was open. We stepped inside and pulled up stools. When the bartender arrived, Nick ordered a beer. The rest of us chatted among ourselves. Chris said the bar might be haunted. The previous owner was named Mike, and he’d passed away over a decade ago. When he locked up at night, Chris always said goodnight to Mike. One night a few years back, Mike said goodnight back.

The bar was dark. Another band arrived.

“This doesn’t look good.”

We shook our heads. Someone explained the situation. The band was Granddogs. They came inside.

Anthony talked about participating in spelling bees in his youth. It was always the dumb words that knocked him out of the competitions. I mentioned that it was “hygiene” that knocked me out of the only spelling bee I’d ever participated in.

“The word,” I clarified. “It wasn’t that I smelled bad.”

Granddogs’ bassist and singer KT Bender said she’d only read the word “chaotic” as a childe and never heard it said aloud, so she pronounced it “CHOW-tic” until her mother set her straight.

Then the fourth band showed up: Altruistic Vision. They’d just been at an outdoor show in nearby Roxborough that was canceled due to inclement weather. Our good friend Fataday Korngor was next up on the bill when they called it, so when he showed up at the Nail and found out that our show was on the verge of cancelation as well, he was doubly disappointed.

By now, an hour had passed with no sign that the power would be coming on, so we all gathered under the Nail’s marquee for a group shot. Even if we couldn’t play, we’d at least have a photo to remember the evening.

And just as we were about to give in and call it a day, the lights came on.

“Let’s do it,” Chris said. “DelCobras, you’re up first!”

We grabbed our gear and started setting up. The other bands–and even a couple of folks who just showed up to see who was playing that night–pitched in. Tom Finn from local band Lucky Break helped Nick set up the drums. Clay Malaney from Altruistic Vision (and Fataday Korngor’s band) grabbed a bass amp and plugged it in.

A quick sound check, and we were ready to play.

Despite the weather, plenty of people came out, and everyone put on an amazing show.

Empty Heaven rocked the house with a soulful piano set, building a strong rapport with the audience by riffing on the evening’s events and talking about the stories behind his songs. Particularly touching was a new song called “Best Seat in the House,” a tribute to his wife.

And speaking of “Best Seat in the House,” I was right up front, so I got to watch as the sustain pedal slid further and further away from Anthony as his set thundered on — as well as his remarkable skill at dragging it back it back into place with his big toe, all without missing a beat!

Granddogs put on an excellent show as well. Jim had already told me how much he liked the Philadelphia-based four-piece’s music, and I was incredibly impressed by their show. The first comparison that came to mind was The Beautiful South, though I’ve since seen other people drawing a connection to the Decemberists and can see that connection as well.

Their set consisted mainly of original tunes in a genre they describes a “parlorcore,” which I think would apply to a couple of other local bands I’m fond of, most notably The Chairman Dances, All the Living and the Dead, and the Brett Tobias Set. One highlight of many was a cover of Concrete Blonde’s “Joey.”

Last up, Altruistic Vision rounded out the night with their raucous blend of funk, rock, and hip-hop. By that point, the house was pretty packed, and everyone was up, dancing, and having a blast. Sure, a storm had just torn through our little corner of the world, but you wouldn’t know it to look at the party going on inside the Nail.

And because he’s a nifty guy, here’s a track from Fataday Korngor: