O.K. first of all let's be honest here. Nothing will ever make me love G. Love more than the blissed-out, humid, lazy afternoon smell of G's first album. That said, Philadelphonic is G. Love's fourth effort and our favorite Philly boy is still laying down sweet stories over great jazzy grooves. The sun never sets on the stoned, celebratory feel of the G. Love movement, and Philadelphonic is proof positive.

Several years ago, when I was much younger and my liver much healthier, I saw G. Love and his crew at a tiny coffeehouse in Fort Lauderdale. We were all too young to drink, so we watched G. Love (with Houseman and Jazz, his drummer and bassist aka Special Sauce) play for what felt like hours on that tiny little stage just a few feet from our table. It felt like hours because though we couldn't drink liquor we could consume as much coffee as our pathetic record store jobs would afford us.

So it was with climbing blood pressure and sweating palms that we witnessed the ascent of one of music's most infectious and sincere talents. Before the first song was over that coffeehouse was moving. None of us knew who he was. After that night, none of us ever forgot. I was even lucky enough to meet the man later that night. Still surging with caffeine, I walked over to G. Love and excitedly shook his hand, affectionately patted him on the shoulder and nearly knocked him down. He smiled at me as his manager ushered me away.

Six years later and coffee has given way to beverages kinder to my nervous system, but I'm still following G. Love's career. He's finally reached a larger audience -- gone are the days when G. Love would strap a folding chair to his back and cruise around Philly, looking for a place on the street to sit down, play his guitar and sing. But live performance is still G. Love and Special Sauce's bread and butter - so much so that they've taken to encouraging fans to record their shows. Their recent show at The Fillmore in San Francisco was no exception.

The crowd outside the venue were in the kind of frenzy you might expect at a Backstreet Boys show. There were no tickets available, and my ticketless friends were getting anxious. Some cop kept harassing me, thinking I was a scalper. But the journey would not end here, my people. As fate would have it we found our way into the show at a low cost and prepared to dance our skinny white butts off all night.

The stage was practically afloat in candles, the crowd was more than ready to get its groove on and as Crazy G took that stage I instantly remembered what drew me to him in the first place: his love for his music and his love for his audience. This skinny white boy from Philly with the bluesy, southern drawl and b-boy attitude exudes love for everybody in his room, and it is *his* room from the minute he takes the stage.

He launched into his set with some of his new tunes. He played a slew of old ones too. He shocked us all by doing a cover of The Beatles "Norwegian Wood" that only he could do. He covered a Marley tune. We were even more surprised when he grooved into The Dead's
"Fire On the Mountain."

The Fillmore exploded when he strummed the first rumblings of "Garbage Man" and "Cold Beverage," but the highlight of the night was G. Love's explicit freestyle version of "Baby's Got Sauce." Watching him work every woman in the room as he expressed his love for his lady and their assortment of fine lubricants was terribly surreal.

We danced until he wanted to stop playing and then we danced some more until he came out again. He did two encores, and by the end of the night we were all smiles and aches. I didn't get to meet him this time, but I didn't feel the need to; in fact, before the show he kept getting out of his tour bus to walk around the crowd with some friends. It wasn't until I pointed it out to my friends that they noticed him.

And that's what I love about this guy. He's one of the most unassuming stars you could hope to meet these days. He has no air of pretense around him, and damn, can he play. Do yourself a favor and catch G. Love's loose groove when he comes your way.