Your move, Madonna. Pic by Jesse Reed.
The double-edged sword of living here in NYC is a) there’s tons of cool shit going on musically on any given weekend, but b) if you are fatigued/lazy/vaguely ill and thus opt to spend your downtime in a quiet shut-in “walk around the park and abuse Netflix” fashion for once, you are soon thereafter filled with shame, as you missed a ton of cool shit that weekend. With great opportunity comes great responsibility, and this past weekend was particularly traumatic in retrospect, for those who opted to lay low. Jesus Christ. The Of Montreal guy took the stage at Roseland on a fucking horse. M.I.A. regaled some sort of swank, star-studded Diesel party (also featuring Franz Ferdinand, T.I., Marty Markowitz, and apparently a bunch of circus performers) while pregnant as hell. Jeff Mangum showed up at that Elephant 6 hoedown. (No “Oh Comely” or anything like that, though, so relax.) Plus raucous mosh-pit follies at Webster Hall’s Ted Leo/Against Me spectacular, Killing Joke at the Fillmore if you’re into that sort of thing, the National covering the Velvet Underground at a New York Magazine fete Friday night at Hammerstein, and probably other crap so sweet everyone’s too blissed out to even blog about it yet. Ah, fuck. The moral here, as always, is go to shows every night of the week or you’ll feel like a douche.