Matt Fugate - Believement (CD)

Matt Fugate likes to start with a little amuse bouche of a joke, a little something to whet your whistle for the main event. Oh, and because saying “amuse bouche,” much like the many ways his name is pronounced, just makes him feel exciting. So long as he’s not confused with the “Blue Fugates of Trouble Creek” (AKA his not-far-removed Avatar relations), he’s pretty much willing to take whatever pronunciation you’ve chosen, assuming you’ll never meet again. Then again, if his kid’s going to be a jerk of a 13-year-old, oh, he’ll reach into that deep, indigo gene pool to put together the most amazing full kit of hip clothes from earlier decades, toss on a sombrero, and head off to school to congratulate said teen on his “record string” of not soiling the bed for three consecutive nights. Because in the battle between late-night street drunks shuffling past, yelling while you have a new-found dance-floor head wound dressed in a sort of surgical do-rag versus 13-year-old anyone anywhere, 1