Men’s Room, Keswick Theater, Friday night by JONATHAN VALANIA
BY JONATHAN VALANIA FOR THE INQUIRER It is a well-known fact that only two things will survive the coming Apocalypse: cockroaches and Keith Richards. A betting man would add ZZ Top to the list. After 40 years of chrome, smoke and BBQ’d blooze licks, their party time ubiquity shows no signs of diminishing. Wherever there are men on scaffolding, they will be there. Wherever Harley meets Davidson, they will be there. Wherever stripper meets pole, they will be there. Wherever a DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS sticker meets a mud-caked pickup truck bumper, they will be there. They were beardos before it was cool, and they will remain so long after the hipsters have moved onto handlebar mustaches. The Top are on the road in support of their first new album in nine years, the thoroughly butt-kicking, Rick Rubin-produced La Futura, wherein, amid other strokes of bawdy genius, they rhyme “chartreuse” with “big caboose.” And they ain’t talking about trains, my friend. MORE