Some youthful hopping about music, for y'all. When 88 keys prove too daunting, and even the thought of six strings cause your palsy'd hand to quiver, there's always the comforting simplicity of the single-tubed, saliva-lubed, much maligned, yet truly fine trombone.
Here Mephiskapheles, in a full-figured early conjuration posits forth on the social dangers of the frozen north. Live at Club Beowulf, NYC circa June 1991.
And here Mephiskapheles, later that same evening, give warning of impending doom. Live at Club Beowulf, NYC circa June 1991.