There was drinking, there was dancing, the was singing, and there was the solicitation of drug deals. There was The Dirtbombs, Dan Sartain, and The Terrible Twos.I'll be pretty much ignoring The Terrible Twos, because despite being good they just weren't that memorable aside from their "Early Henry Rollins Gone Horribly Wrong" front man.Dan Sartain, however, was memorable as hell. Coming in knowing nothing of him, I was witness to him, his guitar, and his borrowed from The Dirtbombs drummer churning out a set of something wonderfully in between rockabilly and garage rock. I was also witness to him pasing between songs to tell us that he's "normally not this cheesy, but if anyone has some pot and can sell it to me, I'd really appreciate that." He is my kind of rock star, sir.The the Dirtbombs hit the stage and made it immediately clear why Mick Collins has been the coolest motherfucker in Detroit for almost 20 years now. Cranking out songs from all of their albums, some covers I don't think are on any, and some freeform improv and audience participation wonderfulness that made nobody there care that the show went on about 2 hours late on a Monday night.Girls were brought on stage to dance at one point, which everyone got a kick out of, but that paled in comparison to how the show ended. One of the two bass players, Troy, was drunk and crawling between the others legs to play with her effects pedals, Mick Jones was standing atop his amp rocking out, one drummer hadd set his floor tom up front of stage improvising on only that while people from the audience came up to play free-from on the rest of his kit, and other drummer Ben Blackwell wandered through the crowd doing some odd improvised singing, dancing with the crowd, and eventually ended up back on stage atop his kit wearing one of his drums over his head whilst playing it.Sometimes I think Rock N' Roll loves me back.