It doesn’t take much for me to catch a case of concert fever. When my cell phone carrier, Virgin Mobile, starting texting me about a free concert I jumped on the tickets.
Then I realized it was probably not the wisest move to go to an all day music festival a few days after getting off of a long ass flight from Botswana.
Eh. I went. Stayed with some friends in the area and had a great time visiting our nation’s capital.
When we got there, I made a bee line to watch Cut Copy who were already into their set. Not to be crude, but everyone in New York has a hard on for Cut Copy.
Watching them, it was easy to see why the Terminal 5 crowd falls for them. Maybe it was the hot sun getting to me, but I just wasn’t feeling them. The lead singer was doing the dance where you thrust your fists out in front of you like you’re pushing a shopping cart, then pull them back to your heart while you whip your head to the side. I could only manage about three or four songs before calling for an evacuation.
After spending a few hours waiting in line for the bathroom, then waiting for the world’s worst tasting burritos (and watching a fight break out among sloppy drunks who were calling girls cunts for not letting them skip to the front of the burrito line), we settled down to watch James Murphy DJ. Next, we were off to another one of the three stages to see TV on the Radio followed by The Black Keys.
We left before The Black Keys finished their set, but I’m on Team Denise, so it was fine by me.