Last week was hell for me. And when I say hell, I mean that it was a getting-kicked-in-the-crotch horrible with a side of smelly shit. Yea, real bad.

(As for why, let’s just say the debilitating state of the newspaper industry hit home, turning me from a vibrant and happy arts reporter to a full-of-piss-and-vinegar-rage cops reporter).

But I pushed on and, in the end, found that the right mixture of ice cream, Chinese food and indie rock is the right recipe to turn a shitty, soul-sucking, debilitating week completely around.

Step one: eat an obscene amount of ice cream at the Jimmy Fund Scooper Bowl, an event that combines the unbridled joy of a buffet with the creamy taste of dairy. For $8, we went nuts, trying flavors like “Cheesecake Brownie,” “Birthday Cake,” “Imagined Whirl Peace” and “Mint Chocolate.”

From there, we headed to Chinatown and, after gorging on fried calamari and fried rice (yea, i beat the shit out of my stomach), it was time for the ladyfriend to return to the apartment, leaving me and the sis to venture out to the show.

(BTW: The most disturbing part of eating in Chinatown? Waiting for the men’s bathroom and seeing an elderly woman emerge from it. Worse than that? She didn’t flush).

Local band You Can Be a Wesley was performing when we got to Great Scott in Allston, inspiring us to head straight to the bar. The band was decent, though at times I felt their lyrics were completely comprised of sounds like “waaaaahhhhhhhhaaaww” and “aaaaaahhhhhhhhrrrrraaa.” It was endearing at first. Then annoying.

After Wesley was done, they said Grand Archives would be up next, which surprised me since I was expecting to see Sera Cahoone, who is on Subpop (like GA) to hit the stage next. We found out later she was sick and couldn’t perform that night.

Instead, we got the impossibly thin Mat Brooke (seriously, his legs look like ski poles) and company taking the stage and launching right into the music that, for the past year or so, have sent music bloggers into hyperventilating hysterics (I’m one of them).

Brooke looked possessed when he sang and tilted his head back during the high notes, which made his eyes look even wider. At times, he looked like a mix of Cat Stevens, Torgo from “Manos: Hands of Fate” and my old college roommate when he was drunk and stuck in the bathtub.

When he sang, his entire body stayed relatively still while his left leg vigorously kept the beat, so much so that it seemed to have a life of its own.

As the music played, every bad and negative thought in my mind melted away and I was left with an overall feeling of carefree wonder, as if the Grand Archives somehow mystically made me feel better about the stupid industry I chose for a profession (yay journalism).

In short, the Grand Archives saved my life that night.

But the best part was sharing that feeling with the band. GA was genuinely surprised at the response they got in Boston, with Brooke saying “This is, by far, the biggest crowd we’ve ever had. Thanks so much. Really.”

And then when the shouts and screams got louder, a small smile crept up on his bearded face, causing him to look up and reveal (for a brief moment) a glimpse of joy in his eyes.

The show was amazing. If you know their music, you know there’s hardly a bad song in their catalog (despite only having an EP and one album). One highlight was “The Crime Window,” a natural sing-a-long song that had the crowd stomping their feet and screaming.

But the big surprise was hearing “Torn Blue Foam Couch.” I never realized how much this song rocked. The quiet opening gave way to Brooke and company pounding on their respective instruments as the crowd howled in excitement.

Grand Archives - Torn Blue Foam Couch

Brooke then announced the band would play a “cheesy cover song” and proceeded to do “Another Saturday Night.”

SIS: “Hey! I know this song!” (she’s notorious for knowing songs and messing up lyrics)
ME: “Me too! I love this song! But wait…it’s not cheesy…is it?”

Grand Archives - Another Saturday Night

At that point I didn’t care anymore. The entire room was singing along and it felt that the good indie-rock feeling everyone created had a chance to make it to the streets.

*I did not take this picture…and I love her rabbit too.

Aside from her creepy video about clown love, (it’s probably the only song you know from her. It’s “The Way I Am”) I didn’t know much about Ingrid Michaelson and, to be honest, the girlfriend and I were going to see Ari Hest (NYC singer/songwriter who’s in the middle of a project called “52″ where he writes one song a week for a year).

So I was ill-equipped with information and assumed I was going to see a piano-driven show filled with songs about love. Like every experience i have in my life, I found I was totally wrong.

From the onset, Michaelson approached the mic on stage as her own personal therapist, talking about past relationships, her problems with drooling on planes and even testing out the various sounds on her keyboard that turned into an impromptu sing-a-long of Richard Marx’s “Right Here Waiting” (it’s true…you totally had to be there…oh wait, now you can).

When she wasn’t crooning along on stage, she was entertaining the audience with her personality and talking about her secret hobby of searching Youtube for fan videos of her songs.

So not only is the “Grid” a pretty girl with glasses, but she’s hilarious…making her my new music crush (for those who are keeping up, my previous one was with the girl in the Office…the band not the show).

This is the third time I’ve been surprised at a musician’s stage presence, straddling that line between singer and stand-up comedian. In Ingrid’s case (or her hip-hop name which she revealed was “Grid”) this worked in her favor.

Piano-driven songs are nice, but I can’t listen to it for an entire evening without wanting to nap. In Grid’s case, it was great to have these songs coupled with hilarious stories about her life, like this one about the time she fell asleep on a plane.

Drooling Story

I know. It’s hilarious and I want to give her a hug. The last time I experienced what Grid called “frivolous frivolity” at a concert was at Tegan & Sara, who have elevated the act of bantering with the audience to an art form.

Ingrid admitted that it was a strange night for her and that she was talking about things she normally doesn’t (like her ex-boyfriend). It’ s funny what a little comedy and audience interaction can do for a singer. And in Grid’s case, makes her stick out in a world that seems to be constantly churning out female singer-songwriters who write emotional ballads for Grey’s Anatomy.

Before, she was just another female singer/songwriter that seemed to be jumping on the I-wear-glasses bandwagon, but now whenever I hear her songs, all I remember is the comedy and laughing about her silliness. Maybe the future of albums should be adding little personality bits from the artist. Kind of like the skits on hip-hop albums, only funnier. Eh maybe not.

The girlfriend enjoyed her, even though it was past her bedtime (she’s a teacher) and, like me, only knew one song. Now we listen to album all the time and wonder if she’s still drooling on herself on airplanes (seriously, listen to that track. It’s a hilarious).

For now, I’ll leave you with the funniest moment of the night. It happened right after she sang “The Chain,” a song only available on her Myspace page.

(and hey, someone took video of it. I was told to put my camera away, mostly because the ushers at Berklee let people in the front section do whatever they want).

There’s a lyric in there that has her go “Glide away on soapy heels” and apparently people on Youtube have been covering it, but saying “Glide away and so be healed” (I think this is the video she was talking about).

Ingrid thought it was hilarious and, with one of her band members, did a song with the new lyrics in an epic, religious sort of way. After that, she went into a remix version of her hit “The Way I Am.” Again, both worth your time.

“The Chain” discussion and intro to “The Way I Am”

The Live Remix of “The Way I Am”

Ingrid Michaelson, I don’t care that you had creepy clowns in your video…I think I love you.

Just as there seems to be an age battle going on in the democratic primary (Clinton’s elderly to Obama’s youth), a similar psychological war was waged last week at the Jimmy Eat World concert, namely between JEW fans and the teenagers who came to see Paramore, a punkish pop, female-fronted band from Tennessee.

It was interesting to see the stark difference between the two groups. Paramore: 80s fashion (think bright colors and strange outfits) coupled with punkish attitudes (I add the “ish” since the real punks are probably in a ditch somewhere).

With Jimmy Eat World, it was more a laid-back group. The girls had those trendy eyeglasses on (is it me or does it seem like everyone has those same ones?), the guys had hooded sweatshirts on. Some were so laid-back that towards the “late” hour of 10pm, they were double fisting cups of Pepsi.

My girl and I were somewhere in the middle. We were more Jimmy fans, but weren’t scared of “the youths” (some people were huddled together in the corner of the arena, as if to hide from the teenager frenzy on the floor).

We were content with mocking Paramore fans and wondering why 80s fashion came back (though in the end we applauded the intensity and started to mock the Jimmy Eat World fans who were “too cool”).

After Paramore, the sweaty teenagers departed from the main area (some left all together, to the obvious joy of their adult chaperones. The rest went to the first tier of the arena to hit the bathroom, buy a shirt, or rub their sweat all over the wall.

I felt bad for the people who thought it was ridiculous and scoffed at some of the teens emerging with no shirt or a missing shoe. If you can’t appreciate that, then you were never in the pit as a kid and missed out.

As for Jimmy, I came to this show as a strange sort of homecoming. I spent five years of my life in Arizona (JEW is from Mesa, AZ) and have always felt a strange kinship with their music. I know how easy it is to “fall in love tonight” after a drunken experience at the bar on “9th and Ash” (it’s Casey Moore’s).

And when I finally left the state a year ago, their song “My Sundown” was one of the first to play on my iPod before the cross-country trip (it had the appropriate lyric “I’ve said my goodbyes/ This is my sundown/ I’m gonna be so much more than this…”)

So it was great to see the band again (this was my…third time? I was really drunk during one of those shows) and, as shows go, they put on a pretty tight set. Almost too tight.

Aside from the perfunctory (though no less appreciative) thanks, Jim Adkins and company didn’t do much expounding to the crowd or even divulge any strange road stories.

It was as if JEW knew that some people left after Paramore or that maybe they felt upstaged by the middle band in the lineup of three. Or maybe the road was getting to them. Either way, it felt quick and even the encore lacked drama. They left with a green light shining on the audience. They returned less than a minute later, so it was more like a water/beer/pee/puke/eat break behind stage.

If they did feel rushed, it’s interesting that, even deep into their career, Jimmy Eat World is still that band no one bets on, that people continue to push aside and that hipsters don’t give a second thought.

At the end of the show, the two factions of fans departed ways. The teenagers, sweaty and some with torn clothes, all exclaimed that this was “the craziest concert” they had ever been to and started recapping the “insane” moments to each other. Somebody yelled back at the jerk in the front row. Someone got puked on. Someone’s ears were still ringing.

I couldn’t help but smile and remember the times I would leave concerts, high off the experience, and feeling like I just witnessed something important. Times are a-changin indeed…

I thought I made a mistake. I was surrounded by women. Hot women dressed in tight jeans and knee-high heel boots, all achingly awaiting for the Australian wonder twins that make up The Kin to hit the stage. Already, I felt completely out of my element.

Initially, I was drawn to the show because of the band’s commitment to charity:water, an organization dedicated to building clean water wells in places like Africa. The Kin’s specific well was for a community in Kenya, and was to cost $35,000.

During their shows, they sell $20 bottles of water with all of the money going to the charity. According to the charity:water, $20 can give one person safe water for 20 years.

So, since I made a New Year’s resolution to stop being a dick, I bought one (though there’s something weird about drinking water from a charity that aims to bring water to people who don’t have it).

Still, after seeing the twins come up on stage, I was tempted to leave and not witness all the eye-fucking that was going on between the patrons and the group.

Then something happened. The brothers left the stage and pulled their charm onto the main floor, asking the crowd to form a circle around them. They performed a couple of songs, one of which was the political “Abraham.” It started with someone yelling for the rest of the bar to “shut up!”

The Kin - Abraham (live at TT the Bears)

For a moment, the wall between audience and performer was broken and suddenly we were all drunken friends, singing along with these two Aussies as if it were a house party and someone had found a guitar in the corner. The Kin performed in the dark, away from the spotlight, mics, and speakers of the stage.

It got to the point the everyone in the circle began singing the chorus towards the end.

After a couple more songs, the boys returned to the stage where the eye-fucking got completely out of control, with the women crowding towards the front (there were even some dudes there).

But the impromptu and intimate performance in the midst of the audience was enough to convince me that this was a group to see more of. They played most of their songs from last year’s “Rise and Fall,” and promised a new album was coming this summer.

Sure, this is a group that makes music ripe for those “emotional” moments on television dramas, but there was something inspiring about breaking down that wall, bringing the concert experience to the audience and bringing music fans together as one rowdy bunch in the middle of dive bar.

It ended as most good parties do, with another sing-a-long, this time to Prince’s “When Doves Cry,” with the brothers again in the middle of an audience-made circle.

An open note to the opening band…

Girl in a Coma,

I showed up late to your set and caught, I think, the last two songs. My bad. I’m usually better at getting to t places on time but, well, it was a Wednesday night and, at the time, I was more interested in running back home to play Call of Duty 3 to beat the shit out of some Germans in World War II.

But I got into your set. And it wasn’t because i enjoy all-girl groups that rawk or the fact that I was in the mood to hear something loud and primal. It was the way your lead singer’s eyes seemed to almost pop out of her skull. That was truly engaging and I had to inch closer to the stage to see if it would happen.

And even though it didn’t, it was fun to watch and see some of the male members of the audience cower in the back.

So thanks Girl in a Coma. You got me in the mood to break things. Bless you.

A couple of weeks ago, I was sent the album “Moonbeams” by Throw Me The Statue, which immediately became memorable thanks to the topless woman falling backwards off a dock. So initially, the cover distracted me.

During the first listen, I was a bit put off. I had it on as background music and felt some of it landed in the “crazy” category (think indie rock but incorporating instruments like the recorder). Then I heard the song “Lolita” and began to hear something good.

It was enough to get me out to their show last night and I can now say that I’m an even bigger fan of topless women falling off docks.

TMTS (yes, I’m that lazy) brought something to the small stage few bands do. Sure then had decorative lights and a keyboardist with a penchant for dancing, but what set them apart is the passion displayed on stage. During one song, frontman Scott Reitherman was jumping up and down and pounding on the extra drum kit on stage (yea, they need two. that’s how much they rock).

When Reitherman did this, he seemed possessed on stage, with his eyes closed and the spirit of rock pumping through his skinny frame. It’s encouraging to see passion like that on stage and only made me want to join him in beating the crap out of a drumkit and rock-howling at the moon.

I think their music got into other people as well, specifically the women at the show. By the third song, two scrambled to the front area of the stage and danced like no one was watching (we were). Soon, others joined in and it turned into a wild, uncoordinated musical mess…but it was awesome.

I’m definitely giving this band a couple more listens. If I was in to putting bands in boxes, I’d try to squeeze TMTS into one with Weezer…but I stomp on boxes and burn them, so I’m not going to do that.

Throw Me The Statue - “This is How We Kiss”

A Quick Word about the Opening Band:

Winter Hinterland, a local outfit from Jamaica Plain, MA walked onto the stage and set up these little lanterns (I think there were 3). Then they dimmed the lights, so much so that you could only see the lanterns and the Christmas lights they placed around the drums in the back. First i thought it was a cool atmospheric effect. Then I realized it was probably because the frontwoman was probably shy and didn’t want the audience to see her sing.

All of this faded away when one of the members took out a saw, (you know, the kind you use to cut branches and the limbs of disobedient carnies) and proceeded to play it with a bow.

Creatively speaking, it was cool. Aurally speaking, it reminded me of a sound effect you would hear in a haunted house, the kind of sound you hear before the drunken, unemployable middle-aged man jumps out at you with a mask and fake blood.

So the quick word? They were interesting, but made me feel weird inside…and a little scared. However, I am overjoyed that Boston is getting a weirder music scene, instead of churning out one pop rock band after another.

First off, I suck at posting. I went to this show like a week ago and am only getting to it now. My excuse? I’m a lazy bastard who let’s his day job cut into more important things like this blog and time with the Nintendo Wii (I’m hooked on Call of Duty 3 and if i don’t play it soon, the Germans will take over the world).

I walked in late and caught half of the opening band, a group called Bodies of Water. For some of their set, they sounded like a wayward country band, content with re-hashing the bonanza theme beat for a bunch of hipsters. However, one song stuck out, which is here. Oh and the girl on the keyboards was indie chic hot. You know exactly what I’m talking about.

I did like their song “Doves Circle the Sky”

Sons and Daughters was a different story. They came out and the crowd went nuts. Then lead singer Adele Bethel told the 50 that were there to come closer to the stage because “everyone will have more fun that way.” It’s a Monday night, that’s why.

Thanks to Bethel’s suggestion, everyone got a good look at her legs, since she opted for a super short, glittery disco dress that would have showed off “her business” had she not been wearing boxer shorts underneath (she jumped around a lot and revealed them. I’m not a sicko…at least not like that).

Here they are doing “Gilt Complex” for the crowd off their new album “This Gift,” which is a good listen for anyone into indie dance music.

To be honest, I didn’t have much hope for this band. But I’ve been listening to “Gift” a lot lately and it’s growing on me. That, and it’s pretty impossible for me to shy away from a Scottish girl.

It’s a shame this show had to go down on a Monday night though. I can only imagine the kind of drunken depravity that would have taken place had it been a Friday or Saturday night. Because in a world where there are indie bands galore content with singing songs about heartache and pain, sometimes it’s nice to see a cute girl jumping up and down on stage singing songs about sex.

Joy Daniels

Last week on Wednesday (March 26) I had a particularly shitty day at work. Nothing truly horrific happened, it was just packed with menial tasks and forced me to question my career path in life.

Then I went to the invite-only launch party for Cafe 939, the new coffee shop/music venue for Berklee School of Music and was greeted by the two of the most beautiful words in the English language: “Open bar.”

Oh right, there was music there too, as you can tell from the video above and below.

Julia Easterlin

The cafe is meant to teach Berklee students about what it takes to run a music club. The students handle the booking (national and student acts), the box office and the food. It’s also good that the musicians get used to the feel and atmosphere of a coffee shop, since there’s where the majority of musicians start out.

The truth is, Berklee holds some of the best young musicians in the country. Joy Daniels (above video) ended the night with an energetic performance (she even covered “What’s going on.”)

And if you want to feel completely untalented, check out Julia Easterlin performing with the sounds she makes on stage and loops them throughout the performance. She’s 18. When I was 18 I could barely get through a Nine Inch Nails album without running into a wall.

Berklee students are pretty impressive and it’s almost scary how talented these kids are. If you want a taste of what’s to come, check out The Sounds of Berklee podcast.

We’re hoping to get something going with Cafe 939…because I’m a glutton for seeing how much I suck as a musician.

Thanks to Mike from graysky.org for the pic

The night before Easter, I worshipped at the alter of rock and offered up all the money in my pocket for cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a $20 t-shirt.

This show was special for me because I would be popping a concert cherry. This was the first time the Drive-By Truckers and I would be at a concert together and, like many first times, I was ready for a bevy of emotions: anxiousness, excitement, and screaming (yes, that’s an emotion).

I can tell you how awesome it was seeing the band members pass a bottle of Jack Daniels or how it was inspiring seeing a variety of dancing in the pit from the young to the old. Or even how they played some of my favorite songs off their new album Brighter Than Creation’s Dark. But that would fail to encompass exactly what I experienced. Think of it as unbridled joy. It’s the same feeling you got when you first saw porn or when you discovered ice cream came in more flavors than vanilla or chocolate (or that you were “good enough” to eat Häagen-Dazs ice cream…I have weird friends).

All the stories you’ve heard are true. They’re fantastic live. Patterson Hood has a gnarly beard. Mike Cooley is laid-back and has no regard for Boston’s “No Smoking” indoors rule. Shonna Tucker will flirt with the audience (once she has JD inside of her).

But the one thing I didn’t expect to find at the concert was one tear to fall from my eye. It happened at the end of the show, when Hood launched into the back story about the song “18 Wheels of Love.” I could just lay it all out, nice and slow for ya’ll to read…but it’s so much better to hear Hood tell it.

18 Wheels Story

Immediately following this, the band launched into the song with cheers erupting from the crowd. I ain’t gonna lie. I got choked up for Chester and raised my umpteenth can of PBR for the man. Here’s the song in all its glory.

18 Wheels of Love

And for all the old-school DBT fans out there, they played one of the best songs from Pizza Deliverance.

Bulldozers and Dirt

More songs from the show are after the jump…along with a version of “Home Field Advantage” with a trashed Shonna at the helm.
Read the rest of this entry »

*Reproduction of Johnston’s art.

At the center of a dance club and under the reflective light of a giant disco ball, Austin’s Daniel Johnston took the stage with a simple smile and songs that he originally wrote and recorded in his room.

Johnston is a strange sort of indie rock hero. Some have heard of him, some have heard more of his story (thanks to the 2005 documentary “The Devil and Daniel Johnston“).

The truth is, there is something special about Johnston and during the show, I wondered what he thought about his fame, how songs he recorded onto tapes have found their way into a trendy nightclub in Boston with a varied audience that included hipsters, clubbers and senior citizens.

Immediately, you’re struck with Johnston’s innocent persona and how effortlessly he goes from one song to the next with his eyes closed, his hands shaking around the mic and his voice reaching the same child-like wonder you’ve heard so often on his albums or downloaded MP3s

“Who here likes Christmas?” he asked at one point. “Well, ya know. Every day is like Christmas for me because I buy a stack of comic books. Because I’m RICH!”

Only Johnston can do that and garner laughs from the men and “aawwws” from the women simultaneously.

(This was a different show for me personally. We’re trying to start a podcast for 52 shows, so I was busy doing some interviews with the crowd and capturing as much music as possible. I’ll hopefully have this up by the weekend).

The show was split up into two parts (three if you count the encore). The first featured just Johnston and his guitar. The second brought out a backing band (the night’s dreadful opening act).

But as interesting as it was to hear “Walking the Cow” and “Grievances” live, it was just as interesting to see the crowd and watch their reaction.

There were guys in the corner muttering “What the fuck?” and “classy” women who were bored because they were brought on a date (who does that?).

And, like me, there were people who came by themselves, there to see the man they had heard about for so many years, either from friends or thanks to a t-shirt Kurt Cobain wore almost every day.

It’s a strange show to explain and maybe the podcast will bode better. For now, know that at its most simple, it was a show with an honest guy on stage. At its most artistic, it was a show that displayed what musical freedom truly looks like.

*That’s right…Tegan & Sara covered Rihanna.

Half-way through the third song of Tegan & Sara’s set I realized something: I like this band. I mean, I really like this band. And it’s not just because their cover of Rihanna’s “Umbrella” was inspiring. In all honesty, their show was the closest thing to perfection I have ever seen and, keep in mind, I entered the show feeling neutral towards Tegan & Sara.

I’ve listened to the new album, “The Con”, was aware of their existence and have always been a big fan of the words “twins” and “lesbian” in the same sentence, but my feeling towards them was comparable to Rolling Stone Magazine’s three-star album review (They use five stars and I feel giving something three stars is completely useless in terms of telling me what the album is like)

But there I was, enraptured by the Canadian lesbian twins, grooving to their songs and laughing at their on-stage banter.

A couple weeks back, Dave posted a Reader Request about bands and their onstage personalities. With Tegan & Sara, you got the impression that there was no stage personality, that they were like this for real. And they were hilarious.

“We love it when the front row is into it,” said Tegan. “I mean, there are two types of front rows. There’s the one that’s totally into it, yelling Tegan! Tegan! TEGAN! TEGAN! and I’m still talking and…”

“It’s like when we were kids…do you remember when we were kids?” interjected Sara. “When mom would call us down saying ‘Teeeeegan’ Teeeegan’ and when we had to clean out the litter box it would be louder…you remember, right?”

Here’s where Sara went on the first of her many digressions, forcing Tegan to stare at her, almost mentally saying “Shut. Up.”

Sara eventually got to the point (kinda, but not really) and Tegan went on with hers.

“So…yea, thanks for that Sara. This is already going on longer than I wanted. I just wanted to tell the story and introduce the song. Anyway, so there’s the litter box front row…”

“Did we just call them shit?” asked Sara.

“And there’s the other front row,” ignored Tegan. “The one where people are leaned back, arms crossed and looking like this. It’s as if they were just let out on parole and, as a stipulation, they had to see a Tegan & Sara show.”

Laughter erupts. I smile. Then I uncross my arms and throw them in my pockets, hoping no one saw.

This is how it went during the start of the concert, indirecting introducing a song and then playing it. But eventually, the duo just launched into indie-rock robot and busted through four songs, as if time was a factor for them (and, it being the Berklee Performance Center, it probably was).

Sara still allowed her personality to shine through. During one song, Tegan started it with a steady beat from the…um, it’s that thing that looks like an egg and it sounds like there’s rice inside of it. You know what I’m talking about (OK, I’m starting to sound like Sara). Anyway, Sara bobbed her head during the intro causing Tegan to spit out “You’re making a mockery of our band.”

But it’s more than just good interaction with the audience or the fact that their performance was engaging (notice I didn’t say flawless). They were honest and in a world of computer-generated music and digitally synthesized vocals, that goes a long way.,

Take “So Jealous,” a fan favorite and a song that the duo just couldn’t get started right. It got so bad, they just stopped and eventually Sara said “Let’s just go to the part where I change.” And they did. Sure, the song didn’t sound like it does on the album, but people don’t go to concerts to hear the album played back to them (something some bands/artists still haven’t grasped). They go for the experience, to see their favorite singers and gain a glimpse into the personalities behind the music they love.

Tegan and Sara did this and their show is something that should be witnessed by music fans everywhere…especially if you like a little bit of musical joy in your life and appreciate interesting covers like the one featured above.

Other videos from the show

“So Jealous” (with the mess-up)

“Where Does the Good Go“