11.11.11, up and down the length of Mass Street
My night of 11.11.11 action started at the Jackpot with the dulcet rock-and-roll tones of the Runaway Sons. No, wait — strike that. The Sons’ full-on assault is an attack on your central nervous system. Their rhythm section vibrates your entire body. The frontman, Jimmy Wing, will jerk and gyrate directly at you, and you will feel mightily uncomfortable, and possibly violated. They’re a perfect band to start out an evening of too many bands, too much volume and way, way too much alcohol.
