It's been almost a year since we've had these boys over on the couch — well, on the floor, mostly — and all I can say is christ, I just want them back.
For someone who either has a miserably bad memory or has actually never seen them play on a stage before, it's beyond odd to see it backwards, to have the stripped-down set come months (and months) before hearing their actual sound. And with the, yeah, I'll say it, vigor of their live show, I've clearly been missing out on a lot.
If a genie magically appeared at the East Village coffee shop I'm currently at and granted me three wishes, I'd first ask him to give me the ability to eat a muffin without looking like I'm a pauper, since apparently the pinch-and-scarf method is the only feasible way to consume a breakfast pastry. (Do people bite into muffins like bagels? Is that how they do it? Is that how muffins work? So many questions.)
The second wish, though, would definitely be to just borrow Dave Davison's voice for a day. Ooh, to wail my way through a world of customer service phone calls! Coffee orders! Meetings! I'd moan my way through calls with relatives I should have phoned circa my last birthday and friends from elementary school to confuse them as to "what I'm up to in New York". And I'd definitely, definitely do karaoke.
(As for the third, I'd obviously have him grant ten more wishes, because I can't make up my mind, would like an exotic zoo animal as a pet and a best-friends-forever status with Sir Bourdain.)
I'm nostalgic for this one in a handful of ways, as it happened in our old, old home (more on that later), but if it stands for anything, it's that ten months later, we're still swooning over their songs as much and possibly more as we did back then. And to stand the test of time, something neither fresh fruit, Best Coast or men's tank tops could do, is the mark of something truly special.
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Big Ugly Yellow Couch Session: Maps & Atlases