My second time seeing Annie Clark in three days was only slightly less magical than the first. I say it was slightly less magical because, well, I didn't get to stick around as much and it lost a bit of the awesome light-show-on-a-budget spectacle of the Dame show. But to say it went a half-step down from the Dame show is really keeping it in the realm of greatness. Any time I write about Anne, I always wind up sounding just a tiny bit sexist. Not because I mention that she's an absolute cutie -- that just means I have eyes. No, I mean that I always mention that she plays guitar better than 95% of male guitar players I've ever seen. And if we were truly post-sexist, I'd probably not even make that gender comparison. But we aren't, so you'll have to excuse me if I do. Annie just works sounds out of her guitar with pounds, shakes and plucks that never fail to transfix me. When I interviewed her in Lexington (which will be posted here soon), her eyes lit up when I compared her formative years in the Polyphonic Spree to Adrian Belew's "crash course" in guitar work with Frank Zapps. And while she might not yet be making animal sounds with her guitar, she does use her skills to provide texture to her already catchy songs.

More photos after the break...