Wednesday night I was having dinner with Viviana and she asked what I was up to that weekend and I was like "Dude, I'm going to that secret Arcade Fire show" and she gave me this look and was like "Secret?" I felt pretty called out. It was about the least secret show (pair of shows, truth be told) there could possibly be. But it was a hot, hot ticket, and Alpha had scored a pair and I was lucky to be invited along.
The show was at an out of the way warehouse in way outer Williamsburg. Possibly we weren't in Williamsburg at all. The line to get in was blocks and blocks long, but quick. Along the way, folks capitalizing on the captive audience.
The show was formal attire or costumes mandatory. (That nice kind of not-enforced mandatory, though). A blessing of not drinking: Not standing in the giant line for wristbands (or then the giant line for drinks after).
Alpha. Skilled internet ticket grabber.
Big warehouse filled up fast. From here we managed to creep a little close to the stage.
I was wearing a fun and shiny tie that I forgot I even owned. And my party jacket. And party shoes. It was a party atmosphere!
After, say, 45 minutes of finely curated pre-show tunes (Such as: Got to Give It Up, Magnificent Seven, Going Up the Country [unexpected hipster danceparty JAM], I'm Ready [meaning Fats Domino], reggae songs I didn't know and a soul song I'm not sure was James Brown) James Murphy poked his head out from beneath a pair of giant curtains to introduce the band. They started playing and then the curtains parted.
I hadn't seen Arcade Fire since 2005 and hadn't thought about them a whole lot since not getting into their Judson Memorial Church shows in 2007. But this show made me feel like a fool for not having been all about them all the time for all that time. Because it was a heck of a show, even if they only played three of their old songs (Sprawl II, Power's Out and Haiti) and nothing else besides new songs from their new record that still isn't out.
And when the hour and a half-ish set ended? Warehouse dance party!
Peek behind the curtain and, yep, James Murphy was the DJ. Just as my spider sense had told me he might be. He played Paul Simon and lots of beats I did not recognize at all. I think that was the idea. I like his set up here: pair of monitors aimed directly at his head. Ima haveta put that on my rider.
Ok, back to partyin'
Eventually we had enough dance partying.
Goodbye, warehouse. Goodbye, lonely trash can.
On the Subway platform we bumped into Sarah and Tyler. They'd bought two tickets for $20 (total!) right outside the venue just before the band went on. Holy smokes! In an age of rumors of scalpers asking $5000 for a ticket (bananas and I don't believe it) it's grand to hear of a success story like theirs.
This is how I like to be remembered. In the middle of saying something.
Fun night, right? Stay tuned for a post about another mid-2000's band concert later this week. Really!