Watching Collins (and cousin/lead guitarist Josh Terry) tear up the stage was a bit like watching two Great Danes play-fight. Even as Collins threw himself headlong into the audience or tossed mostly-full cups of High Life around, he deftly avoided hitting our photographer Doug Beam , or truly inflicting any sort of ambulance-worthy damage on people.

Half the fun was beholding Collins as he strung the microphone cord through his red briefs, deposit cans of beer in his crotch, and wander off stage while the rest of the band pounded out driving beats, beds of thick organ, and bone-crunching guitar and bass riffs.