@ RNR Hotel tonight
I can't remember a show that I've walked into with higher expectations and left with lesser regard for a band.
"Go Tell Fire to the Mountain" was one of my favorite albums of 2011. I expected this show to be something like British Sea Power circa 2003 mixed with The Twilight Sad: loud, a bit dangerous, opaque.
I got a lead singer who fashioned himself a colossal Bono-meets-Chris Carrabba douchebag leading sing-a-longs for 20-yr-old posers; way more Westlife than Wu Lyf.
After 45 minutes of preening and slowly unbuttoning his shirt, the bastard had the nerve to take the air out of the audience with The Worst Cover of Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game" Ever Known to Man, immediately before launching into the fist-pumping anthem "We Bros," which fell completely flat given the circumstances.
I honestly have never had a more visceral negative reaction to a band.
