Tonight is the Stellastarr* show. I love these cats. Their music is so Joy Division meets the Pixies meets the Cure. I either want to be their bassist- the uber cute Amanda Tannen- or marry their lead singer. (Mrs. Rebecca Christensen has quite a ring to it!) I discovered them in a Brooklyn bar two years ago when they were the opening band for the opening band and next thing you know their album is on RCA and they are playing Last Call with Carson Daly (not that Carson "I'm a massive tool" Daly's show is the end-all-be-all, but still!). I think they were the first band I felt like I discovered on my own since I feel in love with Poole senior year of high school. (I still stand by Poole's album, "Alaska Days." Try not to love the song, "Ovaltine" I DARE YOU!) So it was doubly exciting that for my first real piece of published journalism in the Village Voice that I got to write a review of their debut record.
I've really been absolutely no fun the last four months while I finished up my journalism M.A. and worked two internships. I haven't really been going to any shows- despite the fact that I usually go to at least one a week on a slow week- so, hopefully tonight will be my re-entry back into my life of fun!
Stellastarr* are playing at Webster Hall and I've never seen a concert there. (I did, however, once get asked to leave that club when I was 19. Let's just say the incident involved me on my hands and knees under a table upstairs and leave it at that.) So I guess tonight will be my triumphant return in more than one way.