How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Embrace the Funk
With the wind chill, it was down to a sturdy 21 degrees outside, and I was up on stage in a T–shirt, jeans, and the world’s thinnest blazer. While I owned a pair of gray cloth fingerless gloves that would have given my hands some protection from the wind, I made no effort to wear them: they would have ruined my snazzy black–and–white aesthetic, and it’s not like I was doing anything that needed dexterity—I was just playing guitar.