Written and Photographed by Thomas Brill
A City-Sized Crowd in the Suburbs
As I pulled into a parking space in front of 118 North, the suburban Philadelphia venue was already buzzing like a Center City Friday night. Fans clustered at the door, a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging overhead. One guy took a drag and said, “I hear the Bullets have a nice buzz going right now. They’re really good, man.”
Up until then, I only knew the band through For Cantera, their Sinatra-inspired project. I had no idea what the night had in store.
Inside, the place was packed — standing room only, the bar three deep. The crowd was dominated by the three B’s of blues: beers, beards, and boots. As I squeezed against a wall, someone behind me grinned and shouted, “I’m a fucking music fan, man. I love being here.”
Cordelia Blue Sets the Tone With Soul-Rock Heat
At 8 p.m. sharp, the lights dropped and opener Cordelia Blue stepped out, celebrating their new album In Limbo. Their blues-driven, soul-rock sound eased the room into a simmer before erupting into an organ-shaking closer that rattled a framed photo of Keith Richards behind me.
They thanked the crowd and vanished, leaving the room ready — and restless.
The Bullets Hit the Stage With Vintage Swagger
The Bullets Hit the Stage With Vintage SwaggerStragglers worked their way in with fresh drinks as the murmur intensified. Members of Kid Davis and the Bullets drifted onto the stage one by one. Finally, frontman Michael “Kid” Davis appeared in a black-and-white pearl snap shirt, sky-blue Telecaster in hand. Behind him: Pat Kane, Michael Ball, Paul Ramsey, and Alan Yanziak on sax.
A tangle of tuning noise filled the room. Davis strummed, frowned, and pointed upward — not loud enough. The sound booth obliged. I braced myself. It was about to get loud.
“One, two — one, two, three, four!” And suddenly we were thrown into “Damn Near Fun,” a rockabilly hop that sent a wave of white hair bouncing across the crowd.
Rockabilly, Desert Ballads, and a Whole Lot of Attitude
At the front of the room, a group of women twisted their hips, chicken-winged arms in motion. An older man whipped his long white hair in circles. Yanziak’s sax tore through the room “He’s amazing! He doesn’t take over — he just knows when to play!”
Next came “I Slipped,” a jukebox-ready burst of nostalgia. Surf-tinged guitars sputtered over a booming kick drum and plucking bass — the soundtrack to a 1950s drive-in.
Then the mood shifted into a Marty Robbins–styled desert ballad, Davis and Kane trading soaring riffs. A stoic man in the corner finally cracked a satisfied smile. “A solo that could carry you over the Colorado River.”
“Well, I think it’s time for a shit kicker,” Davis announced.
“And it’s about damn time,” Kane replied.
They detonated into “Trashpickin’,” a bluegrass-honky-tonk sprint that shook the floorboards. Davis shredded with bug-eyed intensity. “We play that the same way every single time. Next we’ll play it backwards.”
A Setlist That Spanned Decades and Genres
A Setlist That Spanned Decades and GenresThe second half of the night showcased cuts from their new album Amsterdam, including “Fact Is,” “Boxcar,” “Gypsy Song,” and the standout “Am I High” — a slow-burning, minor-key paranoia trip that made me wonder, Am I, in fact, high?
A Crowd That Came to Feel Every Note
Some attendees leaned against the walls, absorbing each riff like a study session. Others moved with untamed, hair-whipping abandon. Onstage, the Bullets locked into a groove deeper than the room itself — a moment where the audience faded and only the jam mattered.“To them, there was no audience — just the pulse, the jam, and the moment.”
A Jam-Packed Finale With Friends on Stage
A Jam-Packed Finale With Friends on StageAs the show neared its end, Davis invited Cordelia Blue back onstage. “We love those guys,” he said, and together they closed the night with a few more high-energy tunes. It was musicians celebrating musicians — the best kind of ending.
What a night.
Kid Davis and the Bullets’ new album, Amsterdam, is streaming everywhere. Catch them live Thursday nights at Kelly Logan’s House in Wilmington, Delaware.
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