welcome to respectperfection.com

If you're reading this, that probably means one of two things. First, you could be poking around online looking for me, and/or The Diva. Why you'd bother I can't imagine, but your efforts have inadvertently allowed you to stumble across something truly wonderful. Stick around. Open your ears and eyes and accept the bounty Fate has laid before you. Consider it a gift.

Then there is the second, more likely, possibility -- that you found your way here because you're poking around online looking for Eric Sardinas. If you came here via this second path, allow me to compliment you on your impeccable taste, and to tell you that you came to the right place. Eric Sardinas-- the man and the band -- is what this site is all about.

If you're not already acquainted with the man or the band, you might be asking yourself, "Why would someone go to all this trouble to put up a fan site about something I've never even heard of?"

Why, indeed? Lemme tell ya why.

MY FIRST TIME

It all started on September 4, 2002. Yes, I remember the exact date, and a whole lot more, besides. There are some things you just never forget. I'll never forget the first time I was in the path of a Texas tornado. I'll never forget the first time I watched Casablanca. I'll never forget the first time I was kissed properly. I'll never forget the first time I read about String Theory, or the first time I actually got what I was reading...

And I will never forget the first time I heard and saw Eric Sardinas live.

I had gone to The House of Blues in Anaheim, California to see Cinderella.

[SIDEBAR: In the interest of full disclosure... Yes, I am one of those unregenerate daughters of the 80's who -- despite Nirvana, despite Beavis and Butthead, and despite the aggressive deprogramming efforts of just about every music critic to ever cash a paycheck -- refuses to get with the program and renounce her cock-rock roots. To be frank, I like what I like, not the least of which is raunchy music played by long-haired bad boys with screaming guitars, scads of style, hyperactive libidos, and more attitude than the law allows. So sue me.]

My friend Jules and I arrived at The House of Blues -- a general admission venue -- quite early, to ensure that we would have a good spot for the show. (That is another of the things I like, being up front at concerts.) After killing time sitting on the sidewalk outside teaching strangers waiting in line how to play blackjack (long story), we were finally let in by the venue staff. Jules and I went right up against the stage, front and center, and staked our claim on that prime chunk of real estate.

As we were waiting for the show to begin, I struck up a conversation with a woman named Laura, who was occupying the Park Place adjacent to our Boardwalk. I was impatient for the show to start, and asked her if she knew whether or not there would be an opening act. She said there would be. I asked if she knew who it was. She replied, "Yes, it's Eric Sardinas."

Now, I had never even heard of Eric Sardinas, but there's a first time for everything (see above). I proceeded to ask Laura if she knew anything about this opening act. Her answer was something along the lines of, "Yes, I've seen him before. He's a blues guitarist."

In retrospect, I have to say that her answer, while technically true, was a rather breathtaking example of understatement. Calling Eric Sardinas a blues guitarist is like calling Stephen Hawking a physicist, calling The Beatles a boy band, or calling Watership Down a book about bunnies. It's true, but it doesn't exactly tell the whole story.

Which I was, to my utter delight, about to find out.

When Eric Sardinas took the stage (and when I say he 'took' it, I do mean that literally) my first thought was "oh my god!" In fact, I think I might have actually said that out loud. Why this reaction? Because I had seen blues guitarists play live before (my father is a guitarist -- another long story), so I was expecting, well... a blues guitarist. What I wasn't expecting was a virtuoso, a guitar god, or a force of nature. But that's exactly what I got, more or less on accident. I honestly couldn't believe my good luck.

As I stood there against the stage, my jaw somewhere in the general vicinity of my toes, I immediately realized that I was hearing and watching something amazing -- something I would never forget. My musical life had just changed, taking a sharp turn for the better.

My second thought was, "why haven't I heard about this guy before?"

Prior to that night, I had rather vocally lamented the recent direction of popular music, as I imagine many people still do. A lot of what I was hearing seemed forced, inorganic, phony, uninspired, or just plain boring. And while there were and are artists who did and do buck the trend (bless their hearts), I had begun to fear for the future of music in much the same way that literary heroine Princess Leigh-Cheri feared for the future of sex:

"...the insidious designs of capitalistic puritans were supposed to technologize it, to dilute its dark juices, to contain its wilder fires, to censor its sweet nastiness, to scrub it clean, to order it uniform, to render it safe... secure... same... sanitary..."

-- Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker

How silly of me to worry unnecessarily.

What I heard and saw that night at The House of Blues reassured me that music is, and will always be, a badass; and because it is, music, like the fearless lion of fable, will never succumb to the gnawing of a rat (or, in the case of the music business, many rats racing around in suits).

What I heard and saw that night was Eric Sardinas.

I'm not talented enough as a writer to adequately describe the man or the band to you. I can't do the subject matter justice. I doubt anyone could. What I can tell you with absolute confidence is this: If you don't already know about Eric Sardinas, stick around and find out, then go get your mitts on some albums, and your butt to some concerts. Your musical life will change, and take a sharp turn for the better, just like mine did.

It's a sure thing.

And now, on with the show...