“This show is titled – Professor Murder, Colon, Shove it. Or, Professor Murder Just Ate. Or, Professor Murder Tries Out Some New Shit.”
The phrase “Professor Murder” was said by Professor Murder at least twice every Professor Murdering minute, but we forgive him ‘cause he’s so darn fun. The ‘New Shit’ was indeed tried out, stuff from a new single and some things played only once or twice.
The quirky and crazy drumming (three of the four people on stage had some type of percussion) and singing was happy and head-bopping, and Mr. Murder does kind of look like an associate professor, in a substitute teacher sort of way.
Meanwhile, our party is attacked by zombies. Lose 7 days.
The Harlem Shakes
It’s hard not to have some part of the cockles of your heart warmed by this charming New York band, with its boyish vocals and hip but unassuming swagger. The songs tend to meander through their changes like they were constantly finding new things to sing about.
The lead singer, dressed in smoking jacket and jeans, has got the fashion sense of a young Morrissey, though he sounds more like a young Brian Molko covering Alvin and the Chipmunks.
“Sickos” opened the set, with it’s “Woo-hoo-hoo!” backing vocals. Not enough bands “woo-hoo-hoo” anymore, what happened to the “woo-hoo-hoo”?
Then he sings something like “We can get drunk at the movies / we can get drunk on the moon” and suddenly you’re bright and seventeen and ready to get your heart broken in all the best ways.
They also covered the MGMT song “Kids”. Apparently they’d been covering it for years, not knowing if MGMT would ever get big. Well, they did, and “now it’s kind of awkward.”
Riding a mechanical Kangaroo, complete with Joey.
Not pictured: the woman who stripped down to a bra in a car in the parking lot outside.
The hot, dancey rhythms of Tigercity are so groovin’ they seemed to warm the pants of the audience, who erupted into a sort of indie dance party. High pitched vocals and crashing high hats and a killer vest.
The first few rows of females spontaneously ovulated, while the men became 20% more potent.
A birthday cake shaped like a humpless camel smoking a cigarette.
Chocolate canolis with the Danish ambassador.
Phone conversation: “I’ll head over there, I just drank two Sparks and took some pills.”
“Can I tell you a musical secret… with my guitar?”
Stylofone finishes up the Mercury Lounge night with the most balls-out, funkadelic rock show to come out of Brooklyn. Seriously though, they were pretty rocking. So much so that we can't remember the rest of the night too well.