In the white-hot forge of liberal arts postgraduate ennui, the gypsies have tamed the heedless steel of their raw talent into a blade whose edges are twain: That of purest soul and that of blistering rock. They rule the scorched land atop an alabaster throne, brandishing their flaming dual-edged claymore and cackling like mad imps, and when the black sun of their reign is at its zenith, when the deafening screams of the conquered reach an earth-shaking drone, thereby heralding the coming of a thousand years of woe, only then, as you are torn to shreds by the sonic maelstrom crying forth from their blade, will you catch a glimpse of their unholy power, and of your unquestionable unworthiness to be destroyed by it.
Also, we’ll be performing at The Southern Cafe and Music Hall in Charlottesville, VA on St. Patty’s 3/17, doors open at 7PM
Hailing from Charlottesville, Virginia, the Gypsies have grown from a bar band whose goal it was to get the joint flat-footing, to a regional act who still wants to see you dance. Every member of the Gypsies contributes his or her unique voice both in harmonies and in songwriting, and the result is a rollicking pastiche of bluegrass, rock, and jazz that never fails to entertain.
