Wayne Patrick

A single person onstage captivating a crowd of any size is a feat few people can pull off. Todd Snider did it at the Bing Saturday night. Bob Dylan can do it. God knows Luther Vandross could, God rest 'im. But most people need help, even platinum-selling superstars inexplicably. Every rapper in the world has hype men. Madonna employs teams of dancers. Akon has to supplement his Top-40 hooks by dry humping pre-teens. For all but the greatest performers, the stage is a lonely-as-hell place, especially when no one's dancing.

Stalking the back of the stage, in a trilby hat, tapered jeans and a furrowed bluesman's brow ? looking one part BB King, three parts Pete Doherty ? Patrick's wheedling impressionistic guitar licks added a ton of dynamism.