We Saw This: Baby Alpaca, Field Mouse, Gauntlet Hair

We go to shows a lot, but we never really talk about them because it's like, whatever, shows. NBD.

I'm going to make a point to start writing about my experiences at the shows I go to from now on because usually, regardless of the music, something really funny, awkward, or horrible happens.

Last night I went to Glasslands in Brooklyn to see Baby Alpaca, Field Mouse, and Gauntlet Hair. When my friends and I walked in there was hardly anyone there, so we had zero problems ordering booze, which right off the bat sets everything down the correct path towards success. While we waited for the opening band, Baby Alpaca, to start, we stared up at the fluff on the ceiling which somehow manages to make every Glasslands show feel like a prom, and wondered what sort of material it was made of. Cotton? No. I'm gonna say chiffon.

Baby Alpaca was super good and super homo. The lead singer is extremely attractive and some girl outside (who I eavesdropped on while smoking a cigarette) described to her man date as sounding like Martin Gore. But she was wrong because this guy doesn't sound like Martin Gore at all. It's along those same "I'm attractive, gay, and feeling a shit ton of emotions" line though, which pretty much describes my favorite type of music if you also throw "hateful" in there somewhere.

Next up was Field Mouse, who I had never heard before but really enjoyed. As soon as they got on stage, I recognized the lead singer, Rachel Browne, as being a friend of one of my ex-gfs. This made me uptight for about five minutes because I was like "Oh man. What if she's here?" But then I was like "who gives a shit?" Life is awkward.

Jumping ahead in the timeline of things, Field Mouse ended up being my favorite band of the night, but I don't think the rest of the crowd knew what to make of them. This is because a great deal of the human population is stupid and worthless.

When Gauntlet Hair started playing, so much hilarious shit started happening that I could barely even concentrate. The main thing is that the drummer of this band should be the father of my babies. No, but really the main thing is that there was THIS GUY standing right in front of my friends and I, doing the most inappropriate things such as wearing a stupid little hat and incorporating it into his weird dancing by lightly grabbing onto the bill of it like he's Justin Timberlake or some shit. He also did that gross thing where he felt the need to touch the backs of every girl who passed by him in this creepy sort of "hey, I know you don't know how to walk from point A to point B, so let me usher you through." There was a point where I honestly felt like I should be the person to pull him aside and let him know that everything he was doing was complete douche behavior. Someone needs to tell him. I should have told him.

Bonus points for the night: Smoke machine

Points subtracted for: Didn't really see any lesbians

@WolfieVibes

Photos taken by Eric Groom