I had an absurdly late night, last night. Only because I had to be up at a reasonable hour in the morning.
I went over to Tritone for their "night of funk," first to meet Deirdre Flint for a couple of beers. It was too loud to talk so we "texted" each other by scribbling notes on my notebook (songwriters always have paper and pen). We had a great visit, talking about songwriting, before she went home (at a reasonable hour, as she was headed west to rehearse for the Four Bitchin' Babes tour).
If you don't know Deirdre's work, you're in for a treat. She writes about childhood, junior high school (especially) and dating with satiric glee and a touch of wistfulness. The Junior High School songs (about being a cheerleader, about the stud at the roller rink, about reading Nancy Drew books, etc.) are particularly funny, as is her perennial favorite "The Boob Fairy" (no, you'll have to go download it now, won't you?)
But my main purpose for being out was to see, support and otherwise hook up with, Aly Cat. Aly is a bitchin' babe in her own right, and does things with a bass that are illegal in several states. She takes the stage surrounded by four excellent musicians (all male, 2 guitars, drums plus a percussion/trumpeter). They have a wonderful woven-together sound, and Aly not only kills on the bass, she has a strong clear voice as well. She was the final band of the night and it wasn't until her set that a few people got up and started to dance. Those in Philly should keep an eye out for her.
However she didn't get on stage until 12:30am....and by that time I wasn't about to show up to see her and then leave. But it was too late for extended conversation afterwards.