It has everything going for it: massive hype, a soundsystem that blows everything else away, and fucking Andrew W. K. But walking into Santos on Saturday night to find nothing but plump sweaty men… that’s heartbreaking. I mean, I love James Murphy, Hot Chip, and all of the other pasty chubsters, but like… something isn’t right if you’re less than a month old and you’re already overrun with Matt Pinfield clones. I mean, this is the same place that was turning away attractive hipsters at their first DFA party? Shiiit.
I can only say, I’ve got high hopes for the fucking Misshapes reunion/launch party this Saturday. I can’t believe I just wrote that. (Yes I can, I’m secretly super excited… you gotta admit Misshapes was totally dope in a crowded and forgotten 2004.)
