And that’s an invitation

This Saturday night, many will be occupied by Fight Night, as Mike and Lennox square off for what is already being touted as the bout of the century. When you consider that the century is only two years old, that handle might be just a tad premature. Then again, it might not be if, for example, Mike gets wheeled into the ring on a hand truck a la Hannibal Lecter, emerges from his restraints wearing hot pink trunks and then pulls a gun on the ref in the second round.

That’s all fine and dandy. But if you’re not in the mood to get schlonged up the gee-gee for the $55 pay-per-view tab, I want to advise you about an intriguing event happening that same night at Brüka Theatre.

Recently, I wrote a couple of columns about the rock music of 1967 and its strangely enduring appeal and ongoing quality. Then it was brought up that June 1 was the 35th anniversary of the release of one of the most acclaimed Beatles albums, Sgt. Pepper. So the thought arose to have a little listening bash in celebration of that musical milestone, and in doing so, look back and marvel at the unique psycho-socio-politico context of the time that allowed such music to blast, burst and billow forth with the power of 10 billion butterfly sneezes (to quote an old Moody Blues song that has long since been heaved out with the bong water of yesteryear).

What’s been conjured up for Saturday night, June 8, is a live radio show/listening experience entitled “Sgt. Pepper’s 35th: A Day in the Life of Lucy in the Sky Floating Past Castles in the Sand Looking for the Sunshine of Your Love.” It’s a little wordy, sure, but appropriate.

What’s the point? Mainly to have a good time. That’s Job One. I will be the guide for the night, and I’m planning to rev up a blend of both well-known and obscure songs by Cream, Hendrix, Pink Floyd (Syd Era), Traffic and The Beatles, all cranked up through a high-quality sound system. If sitting on the couches of Brüka in the dark and getting your hair blown back listening to these artists and a few of their brainiacal masterpieces isn’t your idea of a good time, well … there’s not a whole lot I can say.

Don’t expect a light show. This isn’t a concert; it’s a glorified living room. There is absolutely no need to dress up in goofy garb from the period. All people named Sunshine or Rainbow will be admitted free if they can prove it. There will be an enjoyable intermission downstairs in the lovely and interesting Sub-Brüka Cabaret.

So what do you want to do Saturday night? Succumb to the primordial urges of your lizard brain and watch two palookas pound each other into tomato paste, or listen once again (or for the first time) to the princes of psychedelia singing ancient ditties brought back from Xanadu?