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NEW YORK - BLANK DOGS' BLANK BLANKET


Hi. I love Blank Dogs. That guy Mike is good. He wrote like 70 songs all by himself last year (fuck the hearsay about this being a "collective," I'm not buying into it even if it is true; sometimes we all just want to hang on to our dreams) and all of them slay. They're so complicated that he needs at least four other people onstage with him just to get the song to turn out the right way when he's playing live. But you know what? At his Market Hotel show on Friday he had no stage presence whatsoever. None. Just look at the body language here. And live his cold, smooth, five-blades-on-one-razor voice sounded like a dispozable Bic after scraping the luscious pubes of a snake-charmer. In other words: ouch.

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The band warmed up for about five hours. Dude, you're good but you're not Aerosmith or something. Your recordings sound detuned and totally fine with it; don't let us see that it's completely orchestrated on purpose.

That guy in the mustard shirt was wearing a motherfucking turtle fur cowl thing around his neck for a while. That shit is OFFENSIVE and under no circumstances should be worn in a situation in which people have paid to look at you. It was so awful I wouldn't even take a picture of it, so as not to subject anyone else to the horror. But dude, you have been put on warning.

Notice how there are like three shitty photos in a row of pretty much exactly the same thing? That's what was going on the whole time. I'm just giving you an accurate depiction of what it felt like to be there. Also I'm using this caption as an excuse to tell you that I heard the bass player (who you cannot see here, sorry) tinkled his trousers a little onstage. Oh well, his jeans were black and that happens to the best of us.

Girl! Don't wear your cute shoes to a hellhole!

Dude! Don't peace out the camera during a random crowd shot when the photographer isn't even looking. You are not a Japanese tourist; you are too self-aware.

But anyway, it wasn't like they sucked. Not at all. A bunch of us still danced, but the obligatory mosh-pit the middle of the crowd started just to impress the band was fucking lame. Or maybe it was just winter…

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