It was a strange show at Webster Hall last night. Nothing particularly wrong with it, provided you went along with low expectations. On the one hand, you could witness a band unfurling a succession of some of the greatest, most basic, rock'n'roll songs ever written - Sidewalking, Blues from a Gun, Some Candy Talking, You Trip Me Up, Never Understand. On the other, the two creative members of the band were in a state of such inestimable nonchalance, seemingly determined to redefine the word "lackadaisical," that it was very difficult to care. But perhaps that was the whole point of this band all along - not to care. Which is delightfully rock'n'roll, I guess.
Also of some interest: at what point did William turn into Jeremy Clarkson?
Back on topic: We'll be running excerpts shortly from upcoming 33 1/3 books about U2, Tom Waits, and Belle & Sebastian.