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Blues isn’t a relic — it’s a current. It runs through generations, and by the time it reaches us it carries the echoes of everything it’s passed along the way. Last Thursday, Edward & The Blue dropped us into that current, right here in Aiken. Their set list was a hall of echoes — Robert Johnson’s “Crossroads” and “Sweet Home Chicago,” Son House’s “Death Letter Blues,” Elmore James’ “Shake Your Money Maker.” Songs born in the Delta nearly a century ago, but carried forward

Last October, we thought we were finally getting Trae Pierce & The T-Stones on the Bud Light Stage. The weather had other plans. Hurricane Helene carved a wide path across the Southeast, canceling not just that week’s show (Low Country Locals, 9/26/24) but also the following week’s (OGR, 10/3/24). By the third week, we were finally getting back to business with Trae & The T-Stones on the calendar for October 10, 2024 — and the skies even looked like they might cooperate.

It's felt like some cruel joke as I've started writing this and it is 68° outside! I immediately mowed the lawn and started a bonfire anticipating the rubberband snap of nature that seems to have us wondering every week if we will be victims of some solar revenge or some mythic flood that sunk Atlantis. Also, I'm in my office typing instead of being outside an enjoying it. It's probably a smart move so that I'm not too spoiled yet... but it's coming. Cool air, football, h

Alright, I owe Tom Reed & The Tandem an apology. Last week, I said it was their first time playing Amp. It wasn’t. They played here back in 2018—before I was writing these blogs, before I was even really involved with the series. Which is probably why I didn’t remember. I was too busy helping open Whiskey Alley to notice what was happening just outside the front door. But looking back now, that version of The Alley feels like a different lifetime entirely. Davoirs wa

These three don’t need big intros anymore. Ruskin, Cam, and Brannon have been playing Amp for years—in King Size and every other local supergroup worth its strings. You’ve seen ‘em at full volume and in different costumes, but what never changes is the way they land with this crowd. King Size didn’t just play a show. They upcycle memories into new ones. From a boombox being held over your head, to detention with the brat pack, anarchy symbols written in white out on a bla

Sometimes the most electric shows come in the most unexpected packages: a three-piece band in a barbecue joint during a thunderstorm. Sometimes, the best way to support downtown isn’t by planning perfectly—it’s by adapting relentlessly. Because at the end of the day, it's not about the weather—it’s about who’s willing to pivot, hustle, and make it happen anyway. That’s what happened last Thursday when we moved Amp the Alley indoors to Southbound Smokehouse. The radar

I thought I had it this week. After months of second-guessing Doppler radars, relocating bands last-minute, and watching the sky like a paranoid farmer, we were finally looking at a Thursday with no threat of rain. I even considered starting this blog with something wild like “Hey, everything went smoothly!” But just to be safe, I still stopped at Harbor Freight before load-in and bought two emergency tarps. Because you and I both know what usually happens when I don’t.

Last Thursday had all the markings of another weather curveball. Kenny and I had the gear loaded in, tuned up, and ready to roll. The skies were clear. Spirits were high. Then, just as showtime neared—a soaking downpour. Quick, but heavy. The kind that makes you question everything. That’s exactly where Anna Hudson found herself. After a week full of setbacks—her guitar broke, her car died, she borrowed a friend’s car only to get a flat on the way—she pushed through it

The Grumble—Patrick Daddario (lead guitar/vocals), Bob Honck (bass/vocals), and Blase Dragna (drums)—launched into a 90s alt and soft rock set that didn’t just nod to the era—it dragged us right back into it. You could hear it in the way folks started shouting lyrics they hadn’t thought about in years. The kind of songs that live in the back of your brain until someone cranks an amp and they come flooding out. Songs from Stone Temple Pilots, Sister Hazel, Red Hot Chili Pepper

We Know. We Talk About the Weather a Lot. At this point, you could set your watch by it: Thursday rolls around, and we start nervously refreshing radar apps like they're stock tickers. The truth is, we second-guess the skies just as much as you do. Probably more. Every week, it’s a fresh round of “Will it? Won’t it?”—and every week, the safe bet is showing up anyway. Because even when the forecast says chaos, Amp delivers connection. And this past Thursday? No rain. Ju

When the forecast forced a venue change, the Kenny George Band didn’t flinch. They arrived early, worked alongside the Electric Eats crew, and helped rework the layout to squeeze their setup into the corner of the downstairs dining room. It was a tight fit—probably not the most comfortable staging they’ve had—but the energy never dipped.

There are songs you didn’t know you needed until you heard them live—melodies that stir something up, lyrics that feel like they were written just for this moment. That’s exactly what happened Thursday night in The Alley. A performance so dialed in, it didn’t just entertain—it affirmed why we show up week after week.

Mike Anzalone, Kenny George Band, Mike Frost, and The Experiment & The I20 Horns Bring Music Downtown All Weekend Long.

The Thursday Night Party | The SureFires at Amp the Alley Some nights walk in with confidence. Others edge in — slowly, cautiously — like they’re not sure they’ll be invited to stay. Last Thursday was one of those. By mid-afternoon, the radar looked clear enough. The humidity was a presence. Folding chairs started to appear, and The Alley began to fill — not in a rush, but with quiet optimism. And for a while, it seemed like we were in the clear. Then came 8PM.

The Thursday Night Party | Lost Dog at Amp the Alley By now, Thursdays in Aiken arrive with bated breath. You can feel it in the way the chairs start stacking near the door, in the slow-down of the last afternoon meeting, in the hopeful glances at the sky. Because Thursday means music. It means downtown fills in — not in a rush, but like a tide. It means people you know, and people you don’t yet, gathered under lights that flicker on just as the sun lets go. But this past Th

It was a 70% chance for storms According to nearly every weather app Kenny and I could get our hands on. The sky couldn’t make up its mind. It had the look of someone hovering just outside Southbound Smokehouse on karaoke night, deciding whether the line — and the stage fright — were worth it. At 6:15, The Alley was a scatterplot of hopeful folding chairs and maybe five people pretending not to refresh their radar app.

The Locals Flooded The Alley Admittedly the Masters Week blitz had a bit of mixed results. Interestingly enough, the Thursday of Masters was the biggest of the week; some combination This year we tried something new and kicked it off with a full week of music for the coveted Masters Week! Despite being from Florida and growing up around golf, I'm not sure if I've lived where there was a giant PGA tournament, so I don't know if anyone else has A WEEK - but in the

AMP IS BACK!!! This year we tried something new and kicked it off with a full week of music for the coveted Masters Week! Despite being from Florida and growing up around golf, I'm not sure if I've lived where there was a giant PGA tournament, so I don't know if anyone else has A WEEK - but in the CSRA, it's a thing.

If there is a right way to end the season, Dazr is definitely a worthy argument. I always go on about the diversity Amp the Alley brings, a

It's always bittersweet saying goodbye to Summer and hello to fall. You won't hear a single complaint out of me about a break in the heat,