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The wide stage of Brooklyn's 285 Kent gave the quartet almost too much freedom (Pless, Nielsen and Wieth remain firmly, almost distractedly planted in tight formation, while Rønnenfelt takes care of the show), but the tiny platform at the Lower East Side's Home Sweet Home was a vastly more fitting station for their controlled chaos: Rønnenfelt swung from the low-hanging rafters, leering and owning the audience's rapt attention like a child preacher as they swayed and timidly pushed one another in the small space. (Had it been a basement venue in any other town, perhaps mosh blood would have been spilt.)
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