was fucking blast. caught the end of dan deacon, who was my favorite of the pitchfork fest this summer. i just love his palate, and not in the "wow, it's so 80's!" sense. well, maybe i am a sucker for the bit-reduction, but other than tay zonday's set (which i believe to be a first live performance of chocolate rain) it was the only original music of the evening.
not that girl talk didn't SLAY. it doesn't bother me that all you need is kindergarten-level math skill to create a mash up– that was by far the most fun i've had dancing in mpls. the state of being totally crushed up against other people, constantly getting elbowed and apologizing for mine, too, was no bother at all. it felt great to just sweat like hell and dance. but it reminded me a ton of philly about two years ago a la 700 club, upstairs at the khyber, and silk city. that inward-from-the-coast transgression is certainly nothing new, but in conjunction with the fact that a) the audience is heavily populated with frat boys and whatever drunken lay they're trailing and b) we live in a digital age and the time lapse at hand is (or at least should be) incomprehensible.
help me out, minneapolis.
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