Ask any of the “Gold-Diggers” — the clever moniker certain some of the more obsessive BG fans/followers have bestowed upon themselves — and they’ll tell you that no matter how short their stage time, Black Gold is always capable of tearing up the most renowned of Hollywood’s row of Sunset bars/clubs. Indeed, tonight’s Roxy crowd seems comprised mostly of BG fans, a line stretching so far down the sidewalk in fact that I don’t stumble inside until the band has already finished their first number. Part of this is due to the fact that Roxy management has become sort of a stage act itself: upon arrival, I’m herded opposite a metal gate outside the box office while a bee-hived, chain-smoking, Jersey-accented club owner barks “Yeh godda wait in line like everyone else!” to a dozen flannel-decked twerpies, one of them who confessed tonight she’d be breaking her Hollywood club cherry (her words, not mine). Judging by the crowd, I’d be hard-pressed to disagree that Black Gold makes for a memorable first time.
