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April 14, 2012
I've only ever seen this band perform outside in Central Park. I'm used to no microphones or amps, no stage or walls or ceiling, nothing to rein in the sound. Natural light. Last night, in a bar deep in Brooklyn, blotto, hippo-hipped, Converse-footed chicks and equally doughy guys, ricochet off each other and collide into everyone and everything. This morning, not even half a day later, the guys are back in the park, as better suits them, without the warbling shrieks of beer-soaked buffoons, and I can share the experience with an old lady and her dog on a bench.