Yeah Yeah Yeahs Celebrate Motorola Droid, Angel Orensanz Foundation, New York
November 6, 2009
Yesterday you and I hopped on the Great Space Coaster and landed on Sesame Street for either a throat-choking blast of nostalgia or a moment of "yup, this is my life." In fact, while I stood in the sun tweeting "surreal, standing in the sun listening to Elmo Song" a high school friend replied, "That's my every Monday." Ageless, that "Sesame Street." I like to think that the adult Sesame Street, at least for us childless freewheeling urban dwellers, resides in music venues, off-Broadway, parks, and ferries. And last Friday night I was the +1, attending a secret show to celebrate the Motorola Droid. Or Verizon Motorola Droid? Anyway...
Fridays present tough choices, always. On one hand I want to hang out with friends and/or the boy, who I haven't seen all week due to parties for this column. On the other, more introverted hand, I want to make sweet sweet love to my couch, some pizza, and "Desperately Seeking Susan." I've discovered, however, that if I force myself to do something, just a little something, on Friday night, the weekend actually seems longer. The promise of a performance by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs made my decision that much easier. My dude works for ADA Music and Verizon is a client of his, so I was happy to wear the invisible +1 cloak for once.
I was only a little leery about the event itself because last time I went to the Angel Orensanz Foundation for the Arts for a "private show," it was pouring buckets of frog-sized rain plops and the line was too long to deal with. When we arrived, there was no line to be seen, yay! Should there be a line, it was split into two, one for printed tickets and one for, gasp!, mobile tickets.
Stepping into the venue was like stepping into Max Headroom's (dig back, people, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayy back) private disco. The stage was flanked by vertical pipes of red lighting (I'll assume LED, since we're all so green nowadays). Surrounding the room were spotlights flopping back and forth with tubes of white, purple and red beams. The simple brushed-copper (at least, in the dark that's how they appeared) candelabras absorbed the purple light, mesmerizing some of the altered guests (ahem, just standing next to some of you gave me the munchies). The wristband dealers stood directly in front of cornea-disintegrating, vertically flashing blasts of white light, handing out bands and drink chips (poker chips are the new tickets) with cute little droid logos on them.
Friday vodka drink in hand, the boy and I propped ourselves at the back of the crowd while the Yeah Yeah Yeahs took the stage. Being a tragic 4'11" means I only really get to see the band when they propel themselves into the air or if I'm on an incline, say, in the lawn at Merriweather. This was not the case Friday night. Every once in a while I'd see Karen O's melon-cat-haired head boink up above the crowd, or her mic-wrapped hand gesturing slowly during MAPS. It didn't matter, though.
If I liked the band moderately before, I think the light show and their much longer-than expected performance (promo stuff is usually a four-song montage and done) may have brought me closer to superfandom. You can't deny that hipster disco beat!
Even on days when I'm not intending to think about work, my brain rats me out. I left the venue wondering about the budget it takes to put together an event like that. I'm sure the Yeah Yeah Yeahs aren't available for weddings and bar mitzvahs, so that had to cost an arm and a leg. Droid/Motorola/Verizon must have the marketing budget dreams are made of.
As a side note, Yeah Yeah Yeahs guitarist, Nick Zinner lives across the street from me. I plan to accost him next time I see him. You know, to tell him "Awesome show, great job!"
Send invitations to email@example.com!
Please pardon the Yeah Yeah Yeahs lyric/song oddly placed headline tie in.