Since starting this blog, I’ve at times been accused of misogyny. I dunno how that’s possible. In my business, it’s a woman’s world plain and simple. So, to counter my seemingly frequent exploitation of attractive women, tonight I’m gonna show y’all naysayers wrong and highlight a man wif strumf (in the immortal words of Blaine Edwards). This is fellow Bartender Joe Ardizzone up in the Brandy’s Piano Bar heezy. Joe likes singing – a lot. I don’t know Joe personally, and I’ve never stepped foot in Brandys, but I suspect he also fancies fancy craft beers and extravagant meals at least as much as I do. But, that’s besides the point. Joe absolutely kills Creep in smashing operatic style. At this point – given his stupendous talent – Joe should probably be auditioning for The Voice, backing up Il Volo, or worst case, making serious coin belting out tunes at the West 4th St. Subway platform or something.
I was introduced to Thom Yorke by way of Creep in 1993 – at the height of my “Wolf of Wall Street” penny stock shenanigans out in Melville. That summer, I rented my first house on on Long Island, replete with a half-acre yard and in-ground pool with a spring-board. Hookers, crack, Tony Montana sized mounds of blow, Ciroc, and other Diddy’esque vices is all I knew. I jest – well, kinda.
