Tuesday was like christmas in ‘95 when I got: a banana seat bike, a brand new laser disc player, dos Klipsch speakers and three fucking wicked sweet fur coats. That is to say: It was the tops. If Norman Rockwell had spent his time painting vapid hot chicks from Santa Barbara like he should have, instead of that sassy frass north-east postcard picturesque garbage he seemed to like so much, Tuesday night would have been just like a classic Rockwell painting. Seriously.
Long legs. Accents. Gorgeous hair. Dance moves that will make you hold your breath for 45 seconds at a time. Possibly moist underwear. I’m not going to name names. But it’s this kind of shit that made me feel I’m like that kid in the backseat wondering if this shit was real life. And don’t get me started on the music.

OK go ahead. They came out swinging. They didn’t stop. I think at one point I levitated. Standing in the first row was not the worst idea we’ve come up with. Every song they dropped stirred an echo of “oh my g this is my favorite” through the audience. And to be fair it is hard to pick a favorite. It reminds of the time I was trying to settle on which “Victoria Secret” model I was going to ask out.* You can really convince yourself that any of them are favorites. It’s hard to commit. That’s kind of how I feel about most of Little Dragons catalog. Although I obviously would have thrown a little kid into a pond full of kid eating piranhas to get them to play “My Step”. Unfortunately sacrificing a kid wasn’t necessary. They played it. They rocked it. I lost my mind. And after tearing up our ears with an almost perfect set – they obliged us with an encore. I’m not talking about any weak encore. Anything but.

Apparently the dictionary Little Dragon used to look up what an encore was described it as “Coming back on stage and rocking the crowd harder than a richter scale 8 for 18 fucking minutes – while the smoke-city chicks in the audience just get not dry.”** Because that’s what they did. The best song (note:not my favorite but the best) off their debut was Wink. Fuck man, it’s about a hot chick winking at you. What more sexiness do you want? I hope none – because then they left us for real. I don’t think the crowd would have been able to handle another encore anyways. People probably would have died from some sort of serotonin haze overdose.

Instead of a double encore I settled for kicking it with the band post-show style and asking them questions like “Did you write that bass line in My Step? Yeah? It’s amazing.” to “Do you have any concept of how fucking good your music is?” Listen I don’t want to brag or anything but I am pretty sure I have a future in interviewing people about music they make.

After getting a copy of the attached remix on vinyl – three Rockwell paintings took me back their casa. And well – we’ll let the rest of this story be like one of those M. Night films. People love those I hear.***

Little Dragon – “Wink”
Little Dragon – “Recommendation (Todla T remix)”

* In the event I ever get within shouting distance of them
** You cannot convince m