The Upper Crust

at The Rat
by Ronnie Kray
photo by Joe Reilly (I think)

Ah, the gathering of the ages; the triumphant return of Boston’s finest. Many in masks floating about, sipping the palace ale (I do believe I tasted a trifle too much of that fine bitter blend). With beauty marks in full effect, the Crust (as the elite knows them), or the Upper Crust (to the Philistines), rip into the sound of a privileged generation. From “Let Them Eat Rock” to “Little Lord” and “Minuet,” Lord Bendover and the boys sent the assembled court through the house of sweat on this momentous evening of revelry and conspicuous consumption. Back from a pilgrimage across the colonies, spreading the word of the Crust and the upper class of the Boston music scene, the lads were in top form with their lustrous golden amps and guitars boasting the last supper. With tongue planted firmly in cheek, the Duke and the Lord led the cavalry into another night of electric-laced glam pomp. I might add that, somewhere amidst this mirth and merriment, I believe I spotted our royal photographer engaged in a drink-induced dance of the Dark Ages. The Crust still rocks with both old classics and new arrivals, supported by a new breed of onlookers (the Boston University kids are catching on). I danced until the dawn, and when I awoke, I was happy, satisfied… and hungry.