POOR AND TIRED, BUT MORE THAN THIS

Sarah and I went to Brooklyn with B Flow. That was the culmination of a night that went from zero to messy in the span of a concert. I would say I don't know how we ended up in such twilight zone disarray, but then I remember the moment a few songs into the Killers' set when the guy next to me caught me swigging from the Kombucha bottle in my bag. "What is that," he wanted to know. My breath matched the answer - cabernet.


The show was fucking amazing. That's a given. I've even come to love the songs off Day & Age. Goes to show that if a band is great enough, the live show will always serve as vindication for perceived missteps.


Sarah and I were seated across the stage from one another but managed to spot each other and dance in unison during the Hot Fuss tunes anyway.


After the show, we were herded backstage to a silent room with chips and booze. Jeremy asked if I had my iPod and thus I became the impromptu afterparty DJ (which came in handy for cutting the insanely long bar queue). My memories from this phase are pretty consolidated - some guy started glaring at my iPod as I played a Prodigy remix. "What," I asked. "Can you play something good," he said.
"What qualifies as good?"
"Do you have any Killers?"
"You want me to play Killers at a Killers afterparty. Do you realize what an epic party foul that is?"
"Ok, yeah, fine. What else have you got?"
We settled on "Machinehead" by Bush.

I ended up throwing on the Josh Harris remix of "Somebody Told Me" anyway, purely to get a smirk out of B Flow. Sarah and I made our rounds, blowing people's minds with my "vintage" Killers shirt from '04 and trying to determine if P Diddy was in fact in the house. We found Dave hiding in a back corner and asked the guy next to him if he'd be willing to take a picture of the three of us.


"Don't you want a picture with him too?" Dave asked me. I shrugged. "He's in Vampire Weekend!" "OH," I said, "I love......... Imran!" (Imran, you best be reading this).


At some point Sarah and I made our way back to the dressing rooms to say goodbye to Ronnie, and that's where plans were hatched for the aforementioned Brooklyn excursion. Truth be told, we should've cut our night off there, but when Brandon declared an interest in a Brooklyn party it was impossible to refuse. If memory serves (which it probably doesn't), in the 5+ years that we've been friends, I don't think we've ever seen Brandon leave Manhattan (when in NY, obvs). Seriously. I mean, it was enough of a stretch that he was willing to go out after a show (after a show AND an afterparty at that), but to go out in an outer borough?? Amazing. Plus, who am I to deny my personal curiosity about the "scene" against which I rage on here constantly? I was definitely interested in seeing what goes on at an "MGMT party."

We hopped some cars and went to Glasslands where Ben from the band was meant to be DJing. Brandon was stunned that Sarah and I didn't know those dudes and made a point of introducing us when we got there. It's funny - I interviewed Ben for an article over the summer but never met him properly. We got to talking about that article - with me reminding him that he'd essentially killed the entire premise of the piece by telling me that MGMT are not really a Brooklyn band (it was for a "Brooklyn" issue of a magazine). I reiterated how crazy it was that Brandon had come to the 'burg, and Ben defended his invitation, saying that he wished people would bring him to parties like that one after gigs, as opposed to the usual trendy affairs. I mean, I get where the guy is coming from, but it must be said that this gathering was nothing to write home about. Granted it was a Sunday night, but if MGMT are supposed to be the granddaddys of the Brooklyn indie scene, one would think they'd draw more than the couple dozen people in attendance. Maybe we were just late. Or maybe I'm just right about that scene. (Yup, always).

I'll leave you with this... the newest Killers video, directed by the guy who does MGMT's videos. Go fucking figure full circle full stop.