You can never find your way offstage because you never know where you are," Richard Thompson says, remembering a gig from the late '80s when he performed here on a revolving stage at the old Westport Playhouse. As with everything the English iconoclast lays down, the meaning cuts many ways. Thompson knows about the strangeness of life on and off a spinning stage, the mad enterprise of creating something called "folk rock," the absurdity of being a consummate craftsman in a numbers-crunching marketplace. At that same gig, a fan kept calling out for "Genesis Hall," an early masterpiece. "When was the last time you bought a record?" Thompson shot back. A laughing audience has never... More >>>