So we got an e-mail the other day from a fellow named Bradford Barry. He said he was a member of a band named simply - in a move out of the Van Halen playbook - Barry. He had noticed some of the album review work we had done on The Pizza Project, and he wondered if we would be interested in reviewing the EP his band, a group of three brothers from Hume, New York, had put together.Now the fact of the matter is I wanted to dismiss this request straight away. I am a busy man. If I have free time, I am either going to enjoy it by spending time with my wife and son, reading some fine prose by Joyce or Tolstoy, or working my cardiovascular system in an intense yet heart-healthy fashion (oh, who am I kidding; I would most likely be at the Wegman’s looking for a beer I haven’t tasted before). But then I noticed something. It turned out that Mr. Bradford Barry had done something very, very, very...savvy: He kissed my arse. Appealed to my ego. And I am pretty much a raging egomaniac.
