Listen, Saint Peter, I don't care what the paperwork says -


So it's happened. James Whiton and The Downtown Apostles have played their last gig of 2006. This week they fly to Greenland, to spend Thanksgiving with Santa Claus and his beautifully brooding assistant, Pocahantas. Then they'll be staying over a while, to help them pack all the presents that go only to the most naughty girls and boys. But they'll be back in January.
Bring the troupes home now!


4 such talented artists. I don't know how their paths crossed, I'm just grateful to have found them in 2006. But I've been told that, on the day they formed, Johanne Sebastian Bach nodded wisely in heaven, and Piccasso dropped his paintbrush, and John Lennon peered through his specs and said "Bloody hell!"

James Whiton and The Downtown Apostles. The darkest, sexiest, maddest, baddest, saddest, melodious, non melodious, confusediest, rockiest, jazziest, bluesiest, wildest, loud, quiet, spontaneous, carefully planned, reckless, lonely, joyous, pissed, happy warm summers day you could hope to find.

The Apostles -- Seattle's answer to the bubonic plague.

So I thank them from the bottom of my heart for all the pleasure they have given me and many others in 2006, and I will try to catch up on my sleep for 2007.

And as the girls will tell you, Santa only comes once a year, but the Apostles keep on coming!


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