Their final song of the night, as they were called back for their encore said it all: they repeated the song’s name as it’s chorus over and over again Super Super Good. Every time you thought it was over, Mike would kick the drums back in and there would be more swirling and jumping, more Super Super Good.
Black Masala feels like the best party band for a party that you’ve never been to before, whether in a tent in the Sahara, or floating down a booze barge on the Danube. At times I wanted to find some dishes to break, and other times I was wondering where the harem might be. But, weather be damned, I will take a caravan, a camel, an elephant ride, or the Siberian express to make it see them another time- the sooner the better.