Craig Comstock looks normal enough -- a bald guy wearing shorts and sneaker who's cheerful and approachable. But when he sits down behind his trap set -- a gnarled, ancient guitar laid across it and a microphone swung around the high-hat -- a wild bear claws its way into Comstock, and he becomes This Is My Condition. And what's his condition? Deeply disturbed and utterly entrancing. Screaming and battering out expansive punk beats, he prods the close-gathered crowd into motion before stretching out an arm to coax sounds from the guitar with a drumstick, thrusting and sawing at the strings in polyrhythmic time with the rest of his body, which still works the drums. The result is somewhere between Howlin' Wolf and Beefheart, with a strident dose of noise-rock amphetamines tossed in to electrify the experience. And for that, he deserves a one-man spot alongside the area's most entertaining bands.
