My feet hurt. But my belly is full, and my heart is dancing. Or something. Also, I'm tired.
I cancelled all my old plans, opting to stay in during the early part of the evening and then hit up the Drake for Grand Analog and 84.85. And good thing, too. Nothing beats Woodhands, but these guys came pretty close. GA was so much fun! At first I was a smidge wary of some early tropical beats, but I was quickly won over, and just as quickly dancing up a storm. Their set was loads of fun. Odario Williams and crew ended with their awesome "I Play My Kazoo," which brought the house down. Actually, the whole set seemed to bring the house down. Lots of love in the crowd for these guys, and rightly so. I'm so glad I finally go to see them! Plus, I got to high-five Odario twice (once on stage, and once at Poutini's after the show). He called me "hot pants," in reference to the very pink skinny jeans I was wearing. Eat your hearts out, ladies.
84.85 may not look the part, but they too brought the party. Their sparse stage set up---DJ and rapper---was soon augmented by dancing women. One woman in particular was some kind of dancing hype girl, and oh my can she ever dance. The three of them really got the crowd revved up, and all of a sudden the stage was filled with people. I recognized one hit song from the time I saw these guys a couple years back at Tiger Bar. What a ways they've come! Great set. I didn't realize I had all those moves in me . . . .
Now, the Drake isn't really a place I venture to very often. And tonight reminded me of why. No offense to y'all, but the occasional show aside, I'm happy to leave this place to the 905ers. (Wow, I'm a snob.) The heels and bare legs and cleavage was bizarre. The muscled men were equally so. Indie kids are much more clothed and much less large. But definitely a good time. I went for poutine afterward, then cabbed it home. (Still raining.) Now, to bed.
Born Ruffians and Parlovr tomorrow!
No comments:
Post a Comment