Tag Archives: Concert Review

Wavves! Wavves! Wavves!

Here is yet another lovely contribution from our dearest KG. Maybe one day, I will be as cool as her…
I have been to my fair share of concerts. Some serious ones, some funny ones, some shitty ones. But the thing they all had in common was that in each, the band actually cared in some shape or form about the quality of the music they were producing.

I thought that for the rest of my life, I would attend concerts like this… Until today, because today I saw Wavves.

Babalu is a tiny club smack in the middle of Munich’s University Scene. About twice the size of my bedroom it can barely hold about 50 people. The inside of it whilst quite warn, does not give off a shabby impression but simply one of being really well loved over its long history.  Inside you are met with a comfortably claustrophobic space in which some one seemed to have erected a stage that appeared to consist only of brown crates with a carpet thrown over it and a dull red curtain hung behind it.

As I arrived inside there was already a crowd of 25 people assembled. The opening Band “Dudeman” were rocking out on stage. I am sad to say that the audience was not very accepting of their deafening, barely understandable grunge rock. From what I could hear it was dirty, messy and consisted only of a lead singer with Guitar and a drummer. To them the idea of a show seemed to consist more of having an on-going joke with some one located behind stage, than of actually making music. By the end of their set I had narrowed it down to three possibilities as to why the band behaved in the way they did.

A) They had taken some thing, drank it, smoked it, snorted it, injected it. In some way or form they had altered their states of mind through external substances.
B) They were just weird as hell.
C) They were clinically insane.

To further prove my point: One of their songs was called “King Kong Went to Hong Kong to Play Ping Pong with His Ding Dong”. Towards the end of the show a head popped up right of the stage, with a marker screaming

“Pinhead” and proceed to scribble randomly all over his face. Because I am just as weird and twisted, this scenario was hilarious to me, however the rest of the crowd seemed rather unimpressed and annoyed.

The facial expression on that some what irritated crowd’s faces did not flinch as crazy marker man proceed to plop himself behind the drum kit and start gibbering away in English to the still annoyed  and now confused looking German crowd. Second later he was joined by a topless man with the words Beach Goth written in lipstick on his chest, followed by unreadable scribbles and a gigantic arrow.

By now the confused audience had gradually warmed up to the sight of these two peculiar men and had begun to accept their slightly awkward appearances.

(I feel I must warn you now, because I am in love with this next man.)
Following closely was  none of other than Wavves himself Mr. Nathan Williams. I was surprised to see that he was only a head or so taller than me and far skinnier than he appeared on photos. I am not sure if he is naturally this way, but by god this man was tiny. This did not stop him from looking amazing in his black jeans, faded black sweater, light blue jeans jacket and rotten white sneakers. He appeared on stage with his baby blue fender guitar with the only request of beer and began tuning and adjusting his Guitar.  As the three man ensemble concluded their set up we learned that the lipstick scribbles on the bassists chest were in fact that failed attempt at a set list, but unfortunately after Beach Goth the lipstick had gone funny and they gave up, Nathan proceed to tell us that it didn’t really matter any way because they only knew 11 songs. He explained that his original drummer had broken his hand so he had flown in these two guys from California and they hadn’t had time to practice and learn more than 11 songs. At this point all I  really wanted to do was raise my hand, as if I were in school and ask the obvious question. “How did he break his hand?” and “ Why did you have to get a new drummer and bass player, if only the drummer broke his hand?” But my questions went unanswered. After Beach Goth concluded Nathan announced, “Some one fucked that up, was it me? Did I fuck that up?” he turned to the crowd and said “Yeah I fucked that up, should my guitar be louder?”

I wish I could give you an exact documentation of all the hilarious things these three men said on stage, even I as a native English speaker had no clue half the time what the drummer was saying (He did threaten to send people angry e-mails if one of us put mention of his lame Facebook joke online, well this is me mentioning it so we’ll see if I get the email).

Nathan scolded them when they insulted Germans and their food preferences announcing he does not condone such behavior. After joking around a bit saying that anyone who thought the show was shit could get a refund at the door Nathan simply said “Everyone knew coming here this was going to be a shit show”. In it’s own beautiful and magical way it was complete and utter shit and I loved every moment of it.

Aha, you think this is the end of it.

After the concert I just could not resist. I knew I had to go to these three men and show them my love for their insanity and ability to  make such a chaotic and obscure show amazingly fun to experiences both visually and sonically.
At first the Bassists who I ambushed at the Bar did not want to hug me because he was covered in lipstick but I insisted, so now I have Wavves’  messy set list smeared  all over my shirt. I journeyed back to the stage were a sweaty drummer was still propped up behind the kit and I motioned for him to get up which he did and he embraced me in such a huge bear hug he lifted my feet off the ground and I was afraid my head would hit the stage lights.
And then the magical moment….. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a skinny frame moving swiftly onto the stage. It was Nathan. I nervously interrupted his movement across stage and pleaded for a hug, which he gave to me with a smile and a “Sure”. I thought  I was going to die. I am not one to get all swoony around Musicians and usually I manage to keep a straight head, but he made any logical or intelligent thought just leave my head instantly. He continued talking to me. The content of this very brief conversation, I will not reveal because of it embarrassing nature on my part.
My conclusion? If you have the chance to see Wavves it is an experience. Do not expect a show that will make sense, be pleasant to the ear or even have some sort of structure, but you can expect a lot of content. And if by some weird bizarre twist of Fate Nathan Williams ever reads this! When you come back to Munich ever, call me ;D

So Bored – Wavves


A Place To Bury Strangers

Seeing an A Place to Bury Strangers gig is a bit like watching a car crash or witnessing a natural disaster; it forces you remember exactly where you were, how you felt and how it affected you. It stays with you, whether you want it to or not. You may think I’m exaggerating, but I can honestly say that the only difference between a hurricane and A Place to Bury Strangers live is the destructive aspect. The noise, the volume, the intensity and the sheer scale of it is on par with any kind of meteorological phenomenon.

I first saw these guys November of last year when they opened for MGMT. Nothing could really prepare me for the sonic onslaught that was their music. Saying it was loud would be a bit like saying getting shot in the face stings a bit. It was violent, unrelenting and literally painful. I remember watching in awe as the drummer, Jay Space, downed an entire bottle of Jack while maintaining these ridiculously frantic beats and thinking, “These guys are legit crazies.” However, in spite of all the dissonance and feedback, I really liked what I had heard.

When I found out they were coming back to Munich, this time as headliners, I was really psyched. KG and I arrived a bit late to the club due to some train delays but luckily we caught the tail end of Dag för Dag‘s (the opening band) set. I’m happy we did. Although nothing too original, this brother sister duo clearly loved what they were doing. Clad in glittering clothing, Sarah Snavely with her throaty yet melodic vocals made for extremely enjoyable listening. The real highlight of their set was a song called Hand and Knees which I could have sworn was a cover of an old Blondie song. After proclaiming their love for the Munich crowd they ended their set with I Am the Assassin which had a surprising number of the stoic crowd bobbing their heads and clapping along. After jumping off of the drum kit and falling heavily to the floor, Jacob Snavely & Co. left the stage.

Then the fog began.

Once the two small fog machines were activated by curiously charismatic frontman Oliver Ackermann the stage began to fill with thick white mist. The lights went down and a strange sort of projection show began. Through the fog circular beams of light revealed grids and blurry images on the back wall of the stage. This went on for about three minutes and after this rather disconcerting display, the band took the stage.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid for my hearing. I’ve been to very loud concerts before, but I’ve never been to a concert where they’ve provided free earplugs at the Garderobe. As I voiced my concerns to KG she simply said, “Earplugs are for pussies!” We decided to take our chances.

The show began with very little light with the drummer completely obscured by the thick smoke. The first few songs of the set were surprisingly melodic, even danceable. The intensity was still there, but it seemed as if the band was just warming up. However, with the first few opening chords of I Know I’ll See You, everything changed. The volume, miraculously increased and the crowd became even more riotous with a small mosh pit forming near where we were standing. In an extended interlude in the middle of the song Ackerman began to throw himself across the stage, as if possessed, frantically playing chords I don’t even think are meant to exist.

Next was Ocean, my personal favorite on the album. Although more a bit more subdued than the previous number, the song was much more intense here than on the album with a much more groovy and prominent bass part.

I’m not really sure how to describe what happened next, but I’ll try. So, Ocean never really ended, the band just kept on playing. The stage went completely black with the noise still blasting at full force and then, out of nowhere, the bassist turns on these strobe lights. I’ve never been so happy not to be epileptic in my life.

The only thing that made sense about this “jam”, if you can even call it that, was the steady heartbeat made by the drummer. Everything else was glorious chaos. People either stood completely still, transfixed by what was going onstage, or were in perpetual motion, lost in some void of sound. Ackerman reprised his demented lunging dance, wantonly playing dissonant chords and holding his guitar right next to the amp to create piercing feedback. Eventually he just threw his guitar on the ground, snapping all of its strings save for one which he desperately strummed, trying to wring out the dregs of lost sound. Eventually though, defeated, he sat prostrated over the broken instrument, as if praying while his band mates played on. It seemed like it could go on like that forever, with all of us watching as these men created something painful and intense and amazing and them just playing or exorcising demons or whatever you want to call what they were doing. Eventually though, Ackerman rose to retrieve an equally battered spare guitar and finished the show with In Your Heart off of the new EP.

They left just as they came, without a word and in the dark.

If I was forced to describe ‘s sound in just a few words, I’d say it was melodious anarchy because, underneath all of the reverb and static and angst there is solid songwriting. If you can see these guys live, do it. It’s loud, and you will lose the ability to hear properly for a few days afterwards, but it is so worth it. As esoteric as this music is, it’s really truly music; totally expressionistic and emotive. You watch these guys play, and you feel the music in your stomach and you see how completely done they are at the end of it, and you’ll know what I mean.

I’m not really sure how they’ve managed to make 45 minutes of ear-splitting noise enjoyable, but somehow they do it. It’s beautiful.

In Your Heart – A Place to Bury Strangers

Want a taste? Watch this. Credit to KG for the filming/photo taking skillz.

White Lies Concert Review

While I was at home, coughing like an 83 year old chain smoker, my friend KG attended a White Lies gig. Although the concert didn’t go exactly as planned, her night of music certainly won out over my night of respiratory illness…

He said to lose my life or lose my love: melancholic words like that just sound so much better when they are not spoken lazily by a tired looking IB student sitting in front of a laptop. Instead, close your eyes and imagine that you are sandwiched in a very mismatched crowd of people and from onstage these words are sung in a deep, yet soft voice with a heavy drum beat and slow growl of a guitar accompanying it in the background. Yes! Let’s do grow old together and die at the same time… Thankfully I am not old (Editors Note: This is highly debateable), so my time has not come just yet. However the time has come to spend another Monday night not at home being a good girl attending to her studies, but at a White Lies Gig in Munich at the Backstage Werk venue.

When Martin and I arrived shortly after 8pm, I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of people that were already waiting outside. It had never occurred to me that White Lies would be so well known here in Munich where Lady Gaga and Flo Rider reign supreme. No one was of the same age group. Well not entirely. Some looked my parent’s ages, some were college students and a fair amount ( mainly girls) barely seemed to be 16.

The opening band Darker My Love were good in their own right. Funnily enough, I thought they were British at first judging by their accents, which was only slightly embarrassing when the lead singer announced they were from California….whoops.  I didn’t find too much to complain about, only that the lead singers microphone was slightly too quiet and his voice just sounded a tiny bit whiney after two songs and I had the urge to plug my ears.

Eventually, White Lies trudged onstage after a painful 30 minute wait in which the crowd grew more and more impatient. Finally, there was an explosion of sound as the band launched into their first song “Farewell to the Fairground”.

Already, even at this early point, one could tell that Harry was having problems singing. At first I thought it was simply because he had just begun and wasn’t warmed up yet, but with each passing song it became apparent that some thing was not right.  By song four which was “To Lose My Life” his voice had become very scratchy and you could tell from the pained look on his face, singing was hurting him. As the song came to a conclusion, he quietly whispered some thing to his band mates then addressed the audience to say, “Sorry guys, but I feel like shit. I love Munich, but I simply can not sing on, I apologize” and with that he and the band walked off stage.

An official looking woman came on stage a few minutes later confirming that which we had already been told, the concert would not go on. However she promised they would be back in either February or March and we were too keep our tickets as they would be valid for the next gig. Still, no matter how sick Harry was, he sounded great. Any band that is as obsessed with death as I am and can sound that amazing despite a sick lead singer is definitely worth seeing.

Just  make sure to remember that White Lies will not leave you with a upbeat and optimistic feeling in the pit of your stomach but  rather a feeling of that fear getting on hold you!

It’s always a bummer when a band has to stop halfway through their set, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a bit excited at the fact that they’re coming back to Munich at the beginning of next year. For all of you Müncheners who, like me, were not able to catch White Lies this first time, they will be returning Sunday the 21st of February with Enter Shikari at Backstage Werk. See you there!

Death – White Lies

White Denim *insert girlish squeal here*!

I haven’t known about White Denim for very long (only for a few months and only because of those ever-lovely Neon Enlightenment girls), but it’s been an intense relationship to say the least. I immediately fell in love with their psychedelic brand of neo-blues garage rock from the very first aggressive chords of Shake Shake Shake, and I’ve been whipped ever since. Taking this into consideration, you could understand my excitement and near epileptic elation when I heard they were coming to München. Even though it was a Wednesday night, AND I nearly had to cut off my own right foot to convince my parents to let me go, AND I had a math test the next day, it was soooooo worth it!

I’ve seen a few bands live, but let me tell you, these guys are musicians in the most genuine sense of the word. Just watching them play made me tired. I was constantly in awe of the singer’s (James Petralli) otherworldly and soulful vocals, or a particularly complex drum pattern mastered by Joshua Block, and especially Steven Terebecki’s crazy bass riffs. Every song in their set melted into the next in complex medleys that I wish completed the record.

Only adding to the gorgeousness of the experience was the audience. It’s gotta be said, to their credit I might add, that White Denim’s fan base (at least in Munich) is more varied than any other “indie” band I’ve ever seen live. While the guy next to me looked like he could very well be an accountant, the girls behind us were fashion conscious university students. Next to the accountant was an awesome metal head and his girlfriend and the remainder of our fellow concert goers were just as diverse. As you probably know from previous posts, Germans aren’t typically the most animated concert goers. However, by the end of the set, the White Denim boys had everyone dancing and clapping along, making the gig feel more like a block party than a concert. All in all, it was an amazing night….


Wait, I think I’m forgetting something. Oh yeah! I got to interview Joshua Block and Steve Terebecki before the show 😀 I’ll be the first to say that they are total sweethearts. They made me feel really at ease while doing my first interview (nerve-wracking) and also put up with some of my more bizarre questions. But anyway, here’s the interview:

My first question is about the origins of the band,  you started off as a four piece called Parque Touch and you played under some really interesting pseudonyms…I was wondering if you could divulge those?

ST: That’s right Parque Touch; I was Terrence Beckins this (motioning to Josh) was Nicholas Mallard and then we had the guitar player  who was Bop English and then the other guy who isn’t with us now was Bishop Massive, he was the singer. It was just like fake names rock and roll names

I also read that you started your early recording is a Spartan trailer. I actually didn’t know what that was so I google imaged it and looked really small…

JB: You might have found the wrong  one

Maybe? Because it was really tiny and I was wondering how you configured all of your recording stuff?

JB: The first record was in one that was kind of small maybe 20 roughly 27 feet but it was hitched at the ends so maybe 21 to 25 feet and that was actually plenty of space at the time I think. But at first it was just kinda jam packed full of gear and we just kind of fell all over each other when we were  trying to move around. Everyone had a station. And now the new one, we still record in a trailer  by the way,

(At this KG and I giggle)

JB: The new one’s much bigger but it’s still older. It’s called the imperial mansion. You have to check that one out, it’s very impressive

Well that’s my next question, because I read that you guys record in Driftwood Texas is that right?

JB: Yeah same one.

I read that it has a population of 21 people, does that include you? Or is that a wrong statistic…

SP: That’s probably like from 1994

It’s from 2004

JB: She said its from 2004 but there are two Driftwoods

Oh so maybe I was looking at the really small Driftwood…

JB: The one I live in might be 900 to a couple thousand people

I guess I was looking at the wrong one then. But I was wondering if being cut off from other stuff is important in your composition process? Is important for you to be isolated; does that improve the quality of the music?

JB: It still applies to the landscape because it is kinda out there but James does a lot of the writing.

ST: But it helps, I think it helps being isolated because you can focus out there on the recording process, we don’t really get distracted once we’re out there, it’s cool

Going back to the music, are your songs autobiographical? Because for me  when I listen to them I really like them on a musical level, I mean I like the sound and the way it makes me feel, but I don’t really know if I can relate to the lyrics so much . I was wondering if you are more geared towards creating a certain kind of sound or theme or if it’s an organic autobiographical thing?

JB: I think it’s a little of both. I mean I’m sorry to give the easy answer like that. James might be a better person to ask because he writes  pretty much all of the lyrics. But I know that, just talking to him about lyrics and just knowing him personally, I think they’re coming from a very personal space. But I mean a lot of it the subject matter’s kind of general.

ST: Like ‘Let’s Talk About It’

JB: Yeah there are a lot of language issues, but on the new album it’s still really personal but I think it’s still stuff we want everyone to understand like stuff about music, and playing for people,

(At this point KG is run over by a bike. Josh continues unperturbed.)

and interactions with people in general. I think you’re right in the fact that it might be tough to relate to because it comes from a personal place but at the same time I think its something that you can easily put yourself in that situation.

My last music related question is about your video for ‘I Start To Run’. It so awesome, like that guy at the beginning with the gun? I want to be his best friend; the guy with the orange suit?

ST: That was great

Yeah it’s pretty amazing. I was wondering about how the concept of the video was developed. I know Tom Haines directed ‘Shake Shake Shake’ so what was your relation to him?

ST: He wrote treatments actually for both videos and we read them and just accepted them because we liked the kind of post apocalyptic, weird, filled with weirdos thing that he had going on. And our label introduce us to Tom Haines right?

JB: Yeah

ST: Full Time Hobby. He had done some other videos for other artists on the label and we just met him through that. We liked his treatments so that was that.

Was it filmed in a rock quarry?

ST: Yeah in Wales.

Really? I showed the video to my mom and she was like “That’s Texas!”

ST: It was actually freezing cold!

JB: And the first one, ‘Shake Shake Shake’ was done in South London.

And now I have some really stupid questions, so prepare yourselves. Don’t think, just answer.

JB: Easy.

ST: These are my favorite kind of questions.

So, would you rather: spend time in a hot tub with Prince or in a fishing boat with Stevie Wonder?

ST: I’ll go with the fishing boat…

JB: I’ll take a cruise in a hot tub with both of them. You know, switch it up a little.

Next, would you rather do a gig naked, or do a gig dressed up as Sailor Moon characters?

ST: I’d rather go naked.

JB: Yeah. I’d have to agree with that.

Would you rather play SXSW or Glastonbury? Cuz you’ve played both right?

ST: Well SXSW is just like driving down the street.

JB: Well yeah there’s that aspect.  But I just like Glastonbury better.

Ok last question, can you laugh without smiling?

JB: Do you want us to demonstrate?

I dunno… You can if you want, or not. It’s more just something to contemplate.

KG: Why don’t you show yours?

How about no…

ST: Yeah I think I need a demonstration.


(KG feebly laughs without smiling while the band look on in amusement.)

JB: No I don’t think I can do that. I can laugh and cry at the same time. Like, I can’t force myself to do it now, but it can be done.

ST: You know there’s that really common like snooty kind of like nose turned up kind of laugh (does snooty french waiter laugh) That’s what I think of, I guess.

If you don’t already know of White Denim, get crackin’! Their music is making real rock cool again, which I think is totally awesome! They also put on an amazing show, so take note! I like exclamation marks!

I Can Tell – White Denim

I Start To Run – White Denim

Never Stops…

Ever hear that saying “never meet your heroes”? For the longest time, I believed that. It seemed like, with a few exceptions, whenever I would meet a “hero” of mine, something would go wrong. Either I would say the wrong thing, or the person would just not live up to my decidedly unrealistic expectations, and everyone would go home disappointed and grumpy.

Yeah that sucks right?

Now I’m not going to go all John Hughes on you here and reveal my teen coming-of-age story, but I’m not so sure I believe that saying anymore because of one Bradford Cox. But I should start at the beginning.


When my friend KG and I tentatively stumbled into the small central Munich club where we were to see Deerhunter, we feared that we would be the only ones at the concert. This idea was equal parts scary and exciting. There was no line at the entrance when admission began, and for about an hour before the show the club was all but deserted.

As the night wore on more people began to trickle in and fill the space. It goes without saying that the club was never packed, but as we neared the performance time the anticipation grew; almost crackling in the air. As KG and I sat on a bench in the back of the club trying to keep low profiles but failing due to our boisterous and creepy personas (we were intimidated by the crowd which seemed populated exclusively by well dressed non-creepy university students), I saw a small frail looking man with a moose bag and an old “My Appalachian Heritage T-shirt” wander into the club looking more like a lost child than a rock star. No sooner had I realized that this man was none other than Bradford Cox (the lead singer of Deerhunter) than he was apprehended by an official looking woman who led him to a backstage area.

Soon however, he reemerged along with his other three band-mates, and then, as it seems is Deerhunter’s humble custom, they set up their own instruments. Bradford complained about how the blue light made him “want to puke” and how the drums sounded like “a box of nails”, to our great amusement. Then, after the majority of the technical difficulties were ironed out, and without ado, they began to play.


The first song, Cryptograms, was technically perfect. Bradford’s voice was sufficiently eerie and disembodied and his band-mates played well, but it was obvious they had not “won us over yet”. Their start had been too casual for anyone to be in the right mindset to enjoy their dreamlike music properly. The next song, Never Stops, was a completely different story. As one of my favorite tracks off of Microcastle, I was super excited to hear it live and it definitely did not disappoint. More guitar driven and intense than the album version, I think I actually appreciated this song more live.

After the next few songs Bradford took a minute to talk with the audience. The following conversation is transcribed here for your enjoyment and needs no introduction:

Bradford: How is everyone tonight? [applause and random yelling] Good! Well we love Munich, we really do… Can you guys understand anything I’m saying?”

Crowd: Yes!

Bradford: Oh OK then, well do guys just not care? [stifled laughter] No it’s ok, I’m used to rejection, my whole life has just been a series of rejections.

The following music would prove to completely contradict that statement. Hazel St. was absolutely beautiful, and the next song Rainwater Cassette Exchange, despite the fact that one of the drummer’s drums fell over, was one of the highlights of the night with it’s chilled but slightly groovy beats and Bradford’s fluid vocals.

Although the music was the focus of the evening, one of the best parts of the gig was Bradford’s interaction with the audience. In contrast with Deerhunter’s often heady, dense melodies, Bradford’s demeanor between songs was casual and jokey. His childish and self-deprecating commentary made you feel as if you were in on some amazing inside joke, and that instead of the unapproachable demi-gods most rock groups try to portray themselves as, the Deerhunter boys could be kids from your school or close friends. That kind of honesty was amazingly refreshing. One particularly hilarious moment occurred shortly after Rainwater Cassette Exchange. While the drums were being fixed, Bradford decided to have a conversation with the sound man…

Bradford: OK Guys, so my Dad’s doing our sound tonight. Can you just say something Dad?

“Dad”: You need to hurry up and finish this set so you can clean your room.

Bradford: What Dad? I’m not grounded, you’re grounded.

“Dad”: Now you listen here son…

Bradford: Dad you’re a [censored]ing [censored]er. I’m going to steal your weed again and jerk off to your playboys.

“Dad”: I [censored]ed your mom.

Bradford: It’s legal that you [censored]ed my Mom because you’re my [censored]ing Dad!

Yeah… I know


After that beautiful exchange the boys threw themselves into the second half the set which included Cover Me (Slowly), Agoraphobia, Operation and Circulation. Although Agoraphobia was the real highlight of the show for me (it’s my favorite song from Microcastle) Operation was the crowd pleaser, provoking three drunk friends to dance awkwardly yet entertainingly near the front of the stage.

The set ended, like it began, without fanfare or adulation. The band simply thanked us for showing up and began packing up their instruments. As Bradford put away his pedals near the corner of the stage, I summoned up the courage to go speak with him, the familiar adage  found at the beginning of this post repeating maliciously in my mind. Struggling to find words to describe the quality of the music we had just experienced I simply thanked him for playing my favorite song. Our exchange was brief, but it meant alot that he would take the time out to speak to anyone who wanted to talk, especially nerdy old me.

So there you have it. I met someone I deeply respect without insulting their family (like I did to David Sedaris) or asking them a ridiculous question (like I did to Noel Fielding). I shook their hand and looked them in the eye. The concert was amazing, and although I’ve tried I don’t think I could adequately express the gorgeousness of being immersed in the soundscapes those four men were able to create.

Instead, I guess I’ll end with some advice:

1) If Deerhunter come to your town/city/commune, GO! You will have a good time even if you’re not a hip, mature college student.

2) Don’t be afraid to meet your heroes. They could turn out to be just as cool as you think they are.

Mad props to KG for the photos, ticket purchase, and general awesomeness.