(sigh)

The great thing about music is, like Baskin Robin's 31 flavors, a sound exists for everyone. Some people love Celine Dion's music, while others prefer the turbulence of Nine Inch Nails.

OK, let's cut the shit: I left the Deerhunter, Dan Deacon, No Age cluster fuck about an hour ago. Look, I'm not going to diss someone's taste in music; I'm not gonna do it. But goddamn. I knew what to expect from Dan Deacon – the crowd, the sounds, the interpretive dance moves (OK, I didn't expect interpretive dance) – but his performance was too much. It simply did not compute with my internal sound module. And after tonight's experience I have determined one thing: Dan Deacon is anchovies – either you have the taste for him or you don't, so if you're having a Dan Deacon party next weekend, leave me off that invite list.

Deerhunter sounded great; in fact, they kicked ass, as did No Age. But the sound was, I don't know, muddy? Perhaps Rhino's lacks adequate acoustics for electrified music. (The last show I attended at Rhino's was several months ago when the Elephant 6 Holiday Surprise Tour stopped in town; the sound problems were numerous and never fully resolved.)

As Deacon's interpretive dance song was concluding it hit me: I've gotta get the fuck out of here. I left prematurely knowing more Deerhunter and No Age were on the way, but I left anyway. I stopped by a brightly lit 24-hour supermarket and purchased some Cookie Crisp cereal and a carton of soy milk for a late night snack. No anchovies, thank you.

xx

MORNING AFTER UPDATE... You know, after reconsidering last night's show, I don't believe any serious sound issues plagued the Deerhunter-No Age stage. No, it was Deacon's fault. Deacon prevented the night from being a full-fledged rock show, which, in hindsight, is what I wanted. I was eager to experience Deacon, I was, but he simply wasn't -- and probably never will be -- my cup of tea.