Where do I begin? The tattooed, leather-clad guy with an Abe Lincoln mask? Or the shirtless singer yelling, "E = MC squared"? The Beachland Ballroom and Tavern can sometimes be great, and other times be outstanding. Tonight definitely fell into the latter category.

In the Ballroom was Josh Ritter, who went to that Ohio bastion of all things liberal, arts and otherwise, Oberlin College. Josh plays beautiful and catchy folk tunes, a little reminiscent of Dylan, but mostly sounding like the extremely talented, Idaho-bred boy that he is. The room was packed: tons of fellow Obies, many parental types, even a bike messenger or two. My night was made when he played my favorite Josh Ritter song ever, "Golden Age of Radio." Mmmm.

But I digress. The point of the night, for me, was bouncing back and forth between Josh's set and the punk sets in the Tavern. The openers in the smaller room (see photo, right) had some serious Queers-meet-Screeching-Weasel vibes going on. Fine enough, but I was stoked for the legendary Pink Lincolns. These Floridians started in the mid-eighties and the punk never stopped.

I watched wistfully and longingly as the Tavern patrons slammed into each other, fists raised, shirts drenched. But tonight was not a night for me to get bruised, so I contented myself with watching the circles go by.

How much better can a night get -- really good folk and really good punk in the same venue? I'll end with my favorite: the pierced, mohawked kid with the leather jacket back patch that read, "Poetry is art." Indeed it is, and I found it in both Josh Ritter's folk and the Pink Lincolns' punk.