Well we was there.
The best thing about this show was the numerous non-smoking signs around the 9:30 Club.
Ms. N. Bagster, looking rather irate, marched in and stood perhaps 20 feet away from us. Immediately, she jumped on the cell. I can only imagine the conversation. "Can you believe these fuckers, $6 for a Yuengling, and I can't even smoke a goddamn cigarette! Christ, next thing you know they're going to be telling me that 37 is pushing middle age!"
Then we noticed that none other than Ms. C. Sweep was standing right next to us. Looking tres chic in a green Wisconsin something or other t-shirt, Ms. Sweep seemed to find the show very satisfying. I was expecting to hear some witty banter about breaking her kickstand on a 50 mile Saturday bike ride, or perhaps a lecture on the evils of suburbia. But alas, Ms. Sweep treated us to a lengthy discourse about Brad and Jen.
A song or two into the show, I decided I was going to be Denny Terrio and have an imaginary dance contest between Ms. N. Bagster, and Ms. C. Sweep. Neither of them seemed to have that much gas in the tank (Sunday night?), but I'm going to have to award the prize to Ms. N. Bagster, who delivered several of her patented hand twirls.
There was also a guy with a fro who could have passed for ggw's younger brother. My wife dubbed him "Gimmy".
Two words about Sons and Daughters: "bad". Ok, I can only think of one. Wait, I thought of a second: "keyboard".
The Decemberists were solid. Judging by some of her expressions, I thought perhaps Schroeder had Down's Syndrome, but I can't imagine her playing that well if she did. I also couldn't help but think that everyone in the band and everyone in the audience, myself included, probably never got laid in high school. And at times I just wanted to yell, "Cut the prog rock and play a pop song." But they did that too. All in all, they played the same exact set (plus the two encore songs) that they did at Bumbershoot. No horn section for this show, which was a tad disappointing.