A winter Sunday night, 1978. A blue norther howls. Snow has been drifting all afternoon and evening. Inside some shithole bar in Odessa, Texas, the patrons move beyond impatiently restless to downright surly. There is "we want our money back" talk from the bar full of roughnecks, bikers and cowboys. The Joe Ely Band, due in from Lubbock, is late. Very late. Tempers are short, the vibe is bad, the potential for violence higher than usual even for a... More >>>