He was a member of the Petaluma Jak’s skateboard team, a guitarist for the band Free Cowboy Hats, a constant presence behind the concession stand at the Phoenix Theater and a tireless supporter of local bands. More than this, Kristof “Goose” Gross was one of the most sincere and kind-hearted people I’ve known. His funeral in Mill Valley this year brought people together in beer salutes and songs, but what he really would have loved was knowing that MDC, one of his favorite punk bands, would agree to play a remembrance for him. In 1988, MDC played the Cotati Cabaret, where singer Dave Dictor stripped off his clothes and traded underwear with a girl; last year in Santa Rosa, they were polite as your mom. Kristof, of course, took pictures, smiled and sang along in the front row the entire time. It’s a fitting tribute when MDC play with Litany for the Whale, Fistifuks and Semi-Evolved Simians on Sunday, Sept. 6, at the North Bay Film and Art Collective. 99 Sixth St., Santa Rosa. 7pm. $7. 707.542.2925.Gabe Meline
Fresh from a residency at Alasdair Fraser’s summer fiddle camp, fiddle maestro and instructor Darol Anger brings his 
Pop-rap can be a funny little cottage industry. In a subgenre defined by “Ice Ice Baby” and “U Can’t Touch This,” it’s also included surprisingly great material like “Bust a Move” and “Mama Said Knock You Out.” So while we ruminate on Jazzy Jeff, on House of Pain, on Tone Loc and Naughty by Nature, let us also tip a hat to the 1995 hit “I Wish,” by 
If you like hanging out in beautiful vineyards, mingling with beautiful people and grooving out to that beautiful brand of indie-pop that makes you bob your head merrily and feel pretty darn good about life, you’ll want to attend 
Whip out the fedora, grease back the hair, strap on the leather pumps and tune up the hot-rod, when the KRSH presents the 
A letter to the editor recently chastened the Bohemian for running a cover story on a local barbecue chef (“Lonestar State of Mind,” Aug. 5). The bereaved reader demanded why we would celebrate the carnivorous tendencies of modern man, asking, “Why do you glorify our ignorance?” It’s a valid question. After all we know about the ethically questionable practices of the American meat industry and the giant carbon footprint caused by consuming animal flesh, it seems like we would all have evolved to vegetarianism by now, if not downright veganism. Yet there is something in the musky aroma of smoke rising from a grill with well-marinated ribs freshly laid down that makes our mammalian hearts melt to a more primal state. It may be wrong, but gosh darn it, those ribs will be delicious at 
Imagine yourself running through a field of daisies, ambient smooth jazz is playing from somewhere and the sun is shining. Your pores—and chakras, too—are freshly exfoliated, and open from a sunrise yoga session. You are one with the universe, Vitamin Water in one hand, a bundle of bio-dynamic snacks in the other. No, this is not a dream. It could be you if you head to the 
The kora, a 21-string harp-lute used in traditional West African music, has a strangely international appeal, such as when jazz innovator Herbie Hancock used it in his 1984 album Village Life. From the tiny Senegalese ethnic minority the Mandika people, kora musician 
What do a left-leaning country rocker, a poet turned chiropractor, the “Japanese Joni Mitchell” and the founder of one the country’s first rock music magazines have to do with each other? Well, they make up a unique kind of family. Paul Williams was just 17 in 1966 when he put out the first issue of Crawdaddy!, a pioneer publication committed to rock journalism. Besides being one of the first rock critics in America, a poet and an early Philip K. Dick enthusiast, Williams has also had a full love life—he married three times. First, there was singer-song writer Sachiko Kanenobu, a leading figure in Japan’s ’60s folk boom, whose 1972 album Misora became a Japanese sleeper hit in the ’90s. Then came Donna Grace Noyes, a one-time poet and actor who now practices a unique brand of chiropractics in Sonoma. Cindy Lee Berryhill Williams is a country music songstress with politically liberal ditties like “When did Jesus Become a Republican?” and is Williams’ current wife. Due to Williams’ early onset of Alzheimer’s, these three distinguished and distinct women will perform a benefit concert for the husband they evidently all still love. 
Accordions ain’t just for your eccentric Romanian uncle—it seems like everybody from the Decembrists to Styx have picked up the squeezebox and are letting loose. As it has for so many years, the 
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