Even Mr. Callahan himself seemed a bit taken aback by the uproarious energy of the crowd assembled at the Great American Music Hall Saturday night. His songs, mostly down-tempo and full of simple guitar figures and elegant, minute drums that ebb and flow like waves, don’t seem like they would inspire shrieks or giddy girls jumping off their feet, but that’s exactly what they did.
“YEAH, BILL!” someone screamed like it was a goddamn rave.
Callahan looked up, startled, his eyebrow arched quizzically. And after a long silence, “Yeah.” It might have been a question, or even an expression of concern.