Last night, after a fierce debate-with-self regarding whether I should or shouldn't go out and Do Something, I half-remembered that Manc-rockers the Chameleons were in New York doing some reunion gigs, so at the eleventh hour I trotted myself out to Park Slope (it's close, but it's really not) to see them at Southpaw with Jack Rabid's old band Springhouse. Both bands gave very good performances, but it was the sum of various parts that made the evening not just "very good" but "fantastic." Southpaw is a nice, low-key club that thankfully doesn't overstate its yuppieness or its grunginess, and the beer is cheap (enough), and the sound is good, and there are places to sit. Also, the crowd (cute, mid-thirties white guys) was superb; they were so into it, dancing and bouncing around ecstatically, drunk and just on the pleasant side of rowdy, really appreciative of both Springhouse and the Chameleons (who won my respect by saying nice things about New York -- I love when visiting rock bands do that). And the weather was beautiful.
I'm a bit hung over now, and I embarrassed myself by showing up late at the street fair where I was supposed to be manning a table (I overslept). But everything worked out fine, and when this headache goes away, I'll feel great.