Of keeping rhythm and answering in the affirmative
Last night, in no great shock to your collective systems, I went to a show at the Black Cat (a former Mattos Paints location, for those of you not in the know). The band of the evening was, band of the moment Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (re-read headline in context). Though the company I keep had mixed takes on the event, I agree with both on certain points. The show's progression was perfectly described by Jason, but I did enjoy myself like Jamie did. I was in the way back, station wagon style, so I couldn't get drawn into the bounce of the crowd, which would surely have uped my enjoyment. These guys definitely need to hone stage presence, but they've got a lot going for them.
The evening itself was a blast. I went over with the ladies of Swann Street and our Canadian Imports, met up with a handful of DCists, the Blogging Mottram Brothers, and Kristin B and her cadre of men. I didn't get to see any of that famous brotherly dancing action (or, the "most gutwrenching moment of (Jamie's) life"), as I was much further back than they were, but I spied a few fist pumps that were unmistakable. Most of us went to St Ex afterwards, shot the shit for a while (do you KNOW how much money my father makes?), some people drank a bunch of cough syrup, and it was home again home again. It was a really lovely, carefree night that left me in a great mood. Who knows, I might be driven to clap my hands. Or say yeah.
See also: Kyle's personal lambast of the show.
And, a DCeiving take on the whole New York buzz band issue.