This man is out of his era. Looking at "Lonesome" Dan Kase, with his spare suit, fedora, and battered guitar, thumbing the blues from his own lead belly, you realize he's completely from another time. He's stepped from a grainy film still or a distant stage. Fortunately, though, he's right here, almost weekly. In an era built on gimmicks flatter than a Bazooka Joe comic, not to mention as sugary as the bubblegum it's wrapped around, Kase goes down like moonshine. His grand stomp is the tom drum of a lost art, built by those with genuine stories to tell. It's real, and it's unplugged.