Jon Dee Graham is one of those musicians who, though you don’t think he’s actually made a deal with the devil, you definitely get the impression the two have done some talking.

I can’t believe I have gone this long without being aware of Jon Dee (sure I can—there is way too much music out there for anybody to keep track), but you can bet I will be catching up on his back catalog and any future releases after catching the show at Davey’s Uptown last night. It was gut-wrenching, honest rock’n’roll with an Austin flavor, delivered by three guys who have been immersed in music for decades. Their professionalism was so offhand you could almost miss what masterful players they were.

It’s like, after a recording session the other night, it sort of became a bitch session about how frustrated we are hearing local musicians, drummers in particular. I was spouting off my usual annoyance with most drummers I see, how half the time they don’t seem to be listening to the rest of the band; the other guys snickered about people plotting out their “look at me!” moments. And I said the real deal is not to play your instrument, but to play the fucking song.

Well, Jon Dee Graham and co. are definitely the real deal. Drummer John Chipman is one of those guys who look gawky, almost awkward when they play. But close your eyes and listen, and he is one subtle and inventive drummer, with impeccable time and a great sense of dynamics. The bass player’s name is Andrew, but I couldn’t catch his last name. Jon Dee, introducing him, said he plays with the likes of Alejandro Escovedo and Son Volt, “but apparently bookings are running a little thin, so here he is tonight.” Jon Dee called out for drinks for the band, saying Andrew needed “a whiskey and a beer stat,” turned to the drummer and then called out “two whiskeys and two beers for the band, stat. And for me, an ice-cold RC Cola…with a single pubic hair balanced on the edge of the glass. There’s a name for that drink, I just can’t remember what it is.” Did I mention he’s funny as hell?

Anyway, long story short, I was totally blown away by the performance, and I’ve been listening to the latest CD all day (“If I don’t sell 30 CDs tonight, I am fucked, people”—which sounds crass, but came off as funny and no doubt true).

You can pay $75 or $100 for a ticket to see some giant stadium spectacle, with laser lights and giant video screens…or for $7 you can see real rock’n’roll, dangerous and personal, in a funky little club three feet from the stage. Let’s hope you are lucky enough that these guys come to your town. Or, if you live in Austin, you are lucky indeed.