So after reading about my friend Richard Fantina’s death I went to the hell hole known as Terminal 5 at 8pm and discovered Casablancas wasn’t going on till 1045pm.
So I doubled back, found an Irish bar on 8th avenue, and drank solidly till 1030p and watched Julian Casablancas for an hour play an entirely uninspiring set culled from his solo album. I’ll admit to having been in no fit state to review anything at the time but damn, even what I could see of the stage was fucking dark and I have no idea what people were talking about the big production. Compared to Pet Shop Boys it sure aint.
When I could see Julian he was draped over his mic.
The rest of the band were irrelevant.
And I spent a good ten minutes throwing up in the rest room so I guess I missed when they changed clothes.
Sorry folks, a crap review I admit.