Will the Real Chris Danforth Please Stand Up?

Riding motorcycles, chasing cowboys, and investigating lounge singers: In search of the most elusive music geek in town

"I wanted to fuck with you in the most friendly way," Danforth says when I arrive, offering to buy me a beer. "I've realized that you can't do this stuff if you're not in college."

I flash back to the last time I saw Danforth's band, the Chris Danforths, on stage at Big V's, with their awkward Devo hand-clapping and their failed attempts at "witty banter." (At one point their bass player, Neil Fasen, addressed the crowd: "It's Wednesday: Hump Day, everybody. Anybody single?") And suddenly, it doesn't matter so much that I've finally spotted Danforth here in this bar. I already know who he is. In some ways, he's the guy on the whooshing Laverda, or the guy who adjusts his possibly fake mustache, or the guy who sings the Q. Lazzarus song. In short, I realize that Chris Danforth is every geek in town. And that's when I know that I've finally found him.

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