The worst show I ever saw was Mink DeVille at some club out I-96 west of Detroit in 1978 or 79.
Willy DeVille looked strung out on something (probably heroin), Louis X. Erlanger looked disgusted, and Ruben Siguenza looked embarrassed (I might have the last two reversed).
I was ticked off about the whole thing for probably a week, and didn't play Cabretta for probably a year.
Then Rolling Stone liked Le Chat Bleu ..... a lot.
Still crabby, I bought it.
Damn ... what a great record.
I ended up buying that record in every format ever invented.
It was worth every penny if only for Willy's collaboration with the great Doc Pomus on Just To Walk That Little Girl Home, probably my favorite ballad ever (when it's not Mixed Up Shook Up Girl, also by Willy DeVille from Cabretta).
Willy was not nearly as good at life as he was at his music.
Twenty plus years a heroin addict, he lost his second wife to suicide.
He followed that up by trying to kill himself driving off a mountain.
Damn near succeeded.
Spent the rest of his life walking with a cane, and performing on a stool.
He died at age 59 from Pancreatic Cancer, which outhustled the Hepatitus C. August 6, 2009.
There has been no one remotely like him.
I sincerely doubt that there ever will be.
One of the great voices in the history of popular music.
Featuring Louis Cortelezzi (I think) on saxophone and Tom Watson in a clumsy attempt to disguise himself with a ponytail, on drums.