PIANO'S
Getting together with friends is tough. No one’s on the same schedule in this city, and everyone’s got their own ideas of how to have fun. Once in a while, however, when the shot glasses are aligned, your best friends, the men who’ve seen you through some serious highs and incredible lows, will be called upon to assemble and debark on an adventure into the inebriated universe of New York.
Ideally, whenever one these Guy’s Nights are declared, there’s hardly any discern between routes which usually leads to an overwhelming cluelessness about the city that’ll leave your motley crew high and dry and ultimately bored. Keep an open mind about where the night may take you, but take a look at these great spots that'll make sure this special occasion isn't bogged down by any lack of plans.
Coining their heavy-hitting, hip-swinging, electro-pop-fuzz as "Dancethink," Michigan-based My Dear Disco proved to be dangerously catchy at Lollapalooza this past week in Chicago, and is heading east to hit up New York City for the first time since Lollapalooza at Piano's in the Lower East Side on September 7th.
Only two years out of college, the that band seems more like a chemistry experiment--a mix-mash of arena-guitar, techno thumps, keytar and female vocals--rather than an systematic orchestration has been declared by the Urb Magazine as "an out-of-body experience," and "modern dance-floor anthems" by the Onion.
Miracles
of Modern Science
Genre: Orchestral
Indie Pop
Website: www.miraclesofmodernscience.com
I was at a Suckers show at Piano's when I noticed John Norris standing next to me. The 10-year-old girl in my heart who spent late nights watching Sifl & Olly and the MTV news anchor in News Briefs at 10 to the hour, every hour did a little jump for joy. When Suckers finished, we somehow struck up a conversation about Wavves (oh wow) and then he introduced me to a member of the opening band, Miracles of Modern Science. Regrettably, I told the boy I had missed his set. "Oh," he said. "Well, you should download our EP. It's free."
The summer has begun to die, and it's sweaty and smokey outside Piano's on Ludlow and Stanton. We have collected a small mass of dazed twenty-somethings - recent college grads, friends from home, friends from work - looking for a cheap Stella and a chance to see some Londoners who call themselves The XX. Neither of these desires are to be fulfilled. The pints are a good eight dollars with tip, and the show is so over capacity that entry doesn't even seem worth the flirting and persistence it would take to sway the doorman. We resign to a table in the front of the venue, with a view of Ludlow ahead.
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