by Tim SheridanIf this disc is representative of Escovedo's live performance, he puts on one hell of a low-key show. Culled from gigs over a two year period, these renditions of his solo canon are so spare, so harrowing, you can hear the rattling of bones. The result ranks along side Frank Sinatra's In the Wee Small Hours and Tom Waits' Closing Time as one of the all-time great late-night LPs.