Oh My God is simply one of the greatest live shows that has ever existed. I have been following these guys since about 2003, from Duffy’s Tavern to the Double Door and now to Pianos in Manhattan. It has been nearly eight years since I fist got a glimpse of the insanity that emanates from the stage – I was once fortunate enough to open for them. Anyways, I’ve told my stories about one of my all time favorite bands in prior posts (here and here), but here they are again, beginning their fall tour with us in NYC. If you know what is good for you, you’ll go to Pianos tonight a see it for yourself.
Below are a few videos from their new material. Also, visit their website oand myspace.
Theory of My Mind
Knock Out Noise
June 15th 2010
Imaginate by the Amygdaloids
In the Fall of 2005 I walked into Union Hall in Brooklyn to catch a public lecture given by Dr. Joe LeDoux, professor at NYU’s Center for Neural Science. While I have many interests, I always fell short in the sciences, so you can imagine I was quite certain I wouldn’t understand a word of Joe’s discussion of the world of neurons, memory, fear and that little nut shaped region in the brain called the amygdala. But Dr. LeDoux’s lecture was entirely accessible and served as testament to his ability to communicate the business of neuroscience. He has written two books aimed at a general readership, offering not-so-science-savvy folks an avenue towards understanding how their brain works. So one might say that Joe has embraced his role as neuroscience’s public intellectual, ensuring that what goes on in the realm of his discipline does not become too far removed from the questions and curiosities of the people. Think Ted Talks. But LeDoux’s connection to the complex world of neuroscience is not the end of the story. After the lecture, the audience joined LeDoux and a few of his fellow scientist friends up to the first floor of Union Hall where they performed as The Amygdaloids. Right before my eyes I watched these scientists shatter every stereotype concerning the “right brain-left brain” dichotomy. But that was 2005; The Amygdaloids have come a long way since that Union Hall show, releasing their latest record in June called Theory of My Mind.
The two clearest influences that inform The Amygdaloids’ music are the distinct styles of lead guitarist Tyler Volk and LeDoux. Through Volk’s guitar flow accents and power riffs reminiscent of the Monterey Pop Festival of 1967 and the immortal Woodstock that followed two years later. He celebrates the work of Jimi Hendrix and Carlos Santana with his blues laden psychedelia. LeDoux for his part writes songs that project the giest of 60’s dream pop, his songs are products of an ethic that demands good pop be, as Jack Tatum from Wild Nothing said, “catchy but not cheap.” LeDoux is a story teller who, with regard to lyrics and music, is guided by the path set out by the likes of Bob Dylan and The Byrds. The two band members’ influences combine to make a whimsical explication of neuroscientific import embedded in the form and fashion of rock and roll. The lyrics present in Theory of My Mind all hail from the band’s public intellectual ethos. Crime of Passion is a track that explores the question of how much responsibility individuals have when they commit crimes during heightened emotional states. The narrating character of the song croons from a prison cell, recalling the reasons he committed murder and his regrets, singing, “If I could go back, I wouldn’t have killed for you. You’re not worth what I am going through.” Appropriately, to accompany this morose contemplation, Rosanne Cash (daughter of Johnny) sings backup, imbuing the track with a strong sense of sadness.
Itis clear from the various titles of the songs that theme of Theory of My Mind is brain science, with all titles in some way referring to motifs of memory, fear, and individual will. Rhythmically, Tyler Volk’s Automatic Mind is a very creative endeavor that diverges slightly from the overall cohesion of the record. This side item song has a style of its own, mixing the choral melody of 60’s pop with the grim and gothic verse of early 80’s British post-punk. The song succeeds as an unexpected amalgamation.
The CD’s title track, Theory of My Mind explores a psychological question concerning when individuals begin to impute mental states such as desires and beliefs to others, and in turn believe that other individuals impute such mental states to them. In essence, when do we feel empathy; when do we recognize the hopes and fears of others and when do we believe they know or think about ours? Often the answers to these questions have been idealized as representative of our most human emotions, but these emotions are not so easily understood. These questions have diffused over a broad field of disciplines including anthropology, primatology, philosophy, etc. Theory of My Mind is a record that explores these and many other questions. Using the language of love, regret, and all the other entries in the lexicon of rock and roll, Theory of My Mind translates the inquisitiveness of the laboratory onto the forceful expression of the stage.
On Sunday, October 27th I went to see a show that I have been anticipating for a very very long time. Sunny Day Real Estate is reunited and touring prompting well a founded rumor that they will record new material. I can confirm that they played a new song during the set that Jeremy Enigk said they wrote together for the tour. Now this is the full band folks. What It Feels Like to Be Something On and Rising Tide were recorded without Nate Mendel. They have not really functioned like this together in 14 years. The band was soulful and beautiful; energetic and monolithic in stature.
These guys are true heroes to some, including me, and they did not let their admirers down. I truly wish my good friend and musical partner Mike could have been there. This band was so influential on the music we made together. I wish that my little brother, Josh, who missed out on 2003′s Fire Theft show because the bouncer kicked him out for puking. Seeing Sunny Day with him would have made my conscience feel a little better for loading him up on dirty martinis and then ditching him…on his 21st birthday. I saw this band not simply as a reunion of great musicians, but as a collapsing of time. On Sunday, I stood in Terminal 5 with my wife, but also with my friends from home, my brother, and everyone else in my life who has ever been inspired by this excruciatingly unique and gracious band. It was perfection.
Now I am going to steal an idea from another online site called Prefixmag.com. I have no problem stealing from the blog because of their awful fucking writing as evidenced by this quote:
“The band performed “Seven” from its classic eponymous debut, Diary, which is now 15 years old.”
So this is a double knock on the online magazine. I steal from them, and then I say don’t use the word eponymous when you don’t know what it means. If the band’s name was Diary or the song was named Diary, then the debut would be eponymous. Prefix, stick to 15 cent words or less. If you want to hire someone to review music you have my email.
Sunny Day Real Estate, Seven on Jimmy Fallon 2009
Sunny Day Real Estate, Seven on The Jon Stewart Show 1994
Go to Brooklyn Vegan for an amazing collection of photos and live footage like this:
4. Song About An Angel
6. Guitars & Video Games
8. Theo B
9. New Song
13. In Circles
14. Spade And Parade
Music As Sunny Day Real Estate
How It Feels to Be Something On- 1998
Rising Tide- 2000
As The Fire Theft
The Fire Theft- 2003
As Jeremy Enigk
Return of the Frog Queen- 1996
The End Sessions- 1996
World Waits- 2006
The Missing Link- 2007
OK Bear- 2009
09/30/09 7:00 Washington, DC 930 Club
10/01/09 7:00 Philadelphia, PA Trocadero
10/03/09 9:00 Atlanta, GA Center Stage Theater
10/05/09 7:00 Dallas, TX Granada Theater
10/06/09 7:00 Houston, TX Warehouse Live
10/07/09 8:00 Austin, TX La Zona Rosa
10/09/09 7:00 Tempe, AZ Marquee Theatre
10/10/09 7:00 Anaheim, CA House of Blues
10/11/09 8:00 Hollywood, CA Music Box
10/13/09 8:00 San Francisco, CA The Fillmore
10/15/09 8:30 Spokane, WA The Knitting Factory
10/16/09 8:00 Seattle, WA The Paramount Theater
02/20/10 Brisbane, Australia
02/21/10 Sydney, Australia
02/26/10 Melbourne, Australia
02/27/10 Adelaide, Australia
03/01/10 Perth, Australia
My first instinct would be to say screw AOL’s spinner.com. But they are distributing Darla Farmer’s live Mercury Lounge album for free, so suppose I can’t disrespect them too much. The show is a product of a collaboration between the band, Magic Hat Brewing Company, and vancar.tv. Below is some video of the show and a link to download the music.
“The burlesque attitude of Darla Farmer is delicious. The bright eccentricities sound as if they were lifted out of a carnival sideshow. Rather than overcompensating for the inherent problems that come with recording horn sections, the loose and live feel of the horns was captured and exploited very tastefully. Too often these types of recordings come off sounding like metronomed midi files, but the dirt is left on and the atmosphere is kept thick.”
Upcoming Tour Dates
9/11 – Nashville, TN @ Cannery Ballroom (Rabbit Release Party)
10/1 – Montreal, QB @ Syndrome (Paper Garden Records music & art party)
11/14 – New York, NY @ 3rd Ward (Paper Garden Records presents: Multiverse Playground)
Summer shows are a double edged sword aren’t they? The heat makes us acutely aware of the sticky auras enveloping ourselves and everyone around us. Forced to mingle, we herd ourselves into the small venue or cram ourselves as close as possible against the outdoor stage, sacrificing our personal space like the legions of L Train morning commuters riding in from northern Brooklyn. But the shows, they are amazing and they are aplenty. This summer looks to be very promising indeed.
Of course for me it has gotten off to a piss poor start. I intended to write a feature about a Norwegian band called Pirate Love. It would not only review their tiny EP, but talk about their live show as well. I was fortunate enough to be guest-listed for last Thursday’s performance at Pianos. A few companions and I had arrived early for a little pre-show drinking. I bullshitted with the bar-back, discovering that he is from Nebraska and that we know a few of the same folks—an altogether enjoyable experience.
Then it turns out that my name slipped through the cracks and was omitted from the guest-list. What to do? I had money for beer or the show, and seeing as one of the expenses was unforeseen, like any normal human being I chose the beer. A few other friends arrived at Pianos later that night. They relayed to me the following day that Pirate Love played a great show. From what I gather it would be a big mistake to miss these guys next time they are in town.
The following night a few friends and I were off to Prospect Park to catch Blonde Redhead. The weather, we can all remember, had been shitty the past couple of days, and it wasn’t looking good for our Friday plans. Again we arrived a bit early and stopped at a pub to drink some pints of Bass and tequila shots. After drinks we began walking toward the park as it began to sprinkle and spit. The line into the venue was very long, but clearly the fans were willing to suffer the rain—for a while. When it came time to open the gates, the park workers kept the doors closed. What was at first a slow drizzle turned into a down pour and no umbrella could really do the job. So, defeated, we walked back the F Train and headed on home. When we finally arrived in Bushwick the rain had passed and the sun broke through. Mother fucker, two shows in two days blown—and we actually made it to the venues. We did the best we could to make up for the lost time. We bought and ate some baguette, stinky cheese, and pastis while watching the sun go down on our converted factory roof.
What will come of the rest of summer is anyone’s guess but I certainly look forward to actually getting inside venues. As always, there is a standing invitation for suggestions on venues and bands. Let us know what should be seen and where. Next week, we go to Wilcoopened by Yo La Tengoat Coney Island’s ill-named Keyspan Park. I haven’t seen these guys in a while, although I was able to get a copy of their newest effort months ago. A review is certainly pending.
But listen people…the best news of the week is thatSunny Day Real Estate will be reuniting for a 20 date tour (see dates below), supporting the rerelease of their first two records Diary and LP2. My fucking God this is amazing! Jeremy Enigk is without a doubt a major hero of mine. I feel slightly ashamed that the last time I got the chance to talk with him was 2003 and I was quite drunk. My brother and I drank dirty gin martinis until he puked and was booted from the venue. It was his 21st birthday. I felt like such a dick. My brother’s inebriation didn’t stop from seeing what was then a Fire Theft show at a joint called Knickerbockers. I asked Enigk something to the effect of “Jesus or Buddha?” He snarked back at me and said “Both.”
Luckily he wasn’t too offended about my mocking allusion to his past exploits in Christianity. He went on to disclose that his favorite band is The Who. After the show I got to sit in the booth with Nate Mendel and William Goldsmith. I am not sure how I pulled it off, but it was one of the greatest moments I’ve had. We’ll see what we can do this time. Although they play at Terminal 5, a shitty venue with what seems like a million people, half of whom will be complete assholes because they hate the music. Their friends dragged them there. Enigk had an amazing showing at the Bowery Ballroom supporting his 2006 solo record World Waits. This is easily the most anticipated reunion of the decade. I wonder what else, if anything, could top it.
Here are the calendars for a few of the better NYC venues:
Sunny Day Real Estate Tour Schedule
September 17 Vancouver, BC/Commodore Ballroom
September 18 Portland/Crystal Ballroom (Musicfest NW)
September 20 Salt Lake City/Murray Theater
September 21 Denver/Ogden Theater
September 23 Minneapolis/First Avenue
September 24 Chicago/Metro
September 25 Detroit/St Andrews Hall
September 27 New York/Terminal 5
September 28 Boston/House of Blues
September 30 Washington DC/930 Club
October 1 Philadelphia/Trocadero
October 3 Atlanta/CW Center Stage
October 5 Dallas/Granada Theater
October 6 Houston/Warehouse Live
October 7 Austin/La Zona Rosa
October 9 Tempe/Marquee Theatre
October 10 Anaheim/House of Blues
October 11 Los Angeles/Henry Fonda Theater
October 13 San Francisco/Fillmore
October 15 Spokane/Knitting Factory
October 16 Seattle/Paramount Theatre
Midwest Dilemma (Unsigned) Peasant Paper Garden The Living Room 8:00PM
Wednesday, May 20th 2009 FREE
Darla Farmer Paper Garden Emanuel & the Fear Paper Garden Mercury Lounge 7:30PM 21+
Saturday, May 23rd 2009 $10
Midwest Dilemma- Omaha
Emanuel & the Fear- Alright! (We’re All)
New York City’s Paper Garden Records is treating us during the month of May by putting together a couple shows that showcase three of the labels more promising acts. On Monday, May 20th Peasant, one of our favorite song writers attached to Paper Garden will play along side Omaha, Nebraska’s Midwest Dilemma. This will be a doubly sweet night— not only am I eager to see Midwest Dilemma live, but Peasant is definitely always satisfying to watch. He cannot be overstated. It is my understanding that Justin Lamoureux of Midwest Dilemma will be playing solo, which will likely be a nice compliment to Peasant‘s set. Did I mention it is FREE? The show will take place at The Living Room on Ludlow.
The vaudevillian circus sideshow that is Darla Farmer team up with electro-pop orchestrators Emanuel & the Fear for an early gig at Mercury Lounge on May 23rd. The doors open at 7:30PM, with Darla Farmer offering their velveteen texture at 8PM, followed by Emanuel & the Fear at 9PM. For those of you who have not attended an early show at Mercury Lounge, it is a great way to begin a Saturday night. Your ass is out of their by 10:30PM, perfect if you have a party to get to in Bushwick, Greenpoint or Williamsburg. Both bands are attached to Paper Garden and are certainly worth a listen.
Dead Leaf Echo
Pale Fire EP
May 6, 2008
Year of the Gallon
The moody mix of over-the-top affected vocals offered on Dead Leaf Echo’s 2008 EP, Pale Fire, takes an extraordinarily long time to digest. The band so openly attach themselves to the ethereal sprawl of shoegaze that it begs the question, are they…really? Elastic lazy vocals and saturated tremolo does not a shoegaze band make. Nothing illustrates this more completely than the emphasis the band has placed on their collaboration with Ulrich Schnauss who has previously worked with bands such as Depeche Mode and Cold Play. Schnauss mixed the title track to great effect. Other bands in the past such as Elliot have utilized cavernous gothic melodies and effeminate Morrisseian vocals to produce magnificent records, ones with no interest in misplaced comparisons to My Bloody Valentine, to which Dead Leaf Echo has no relation what so ever. Rather than a wall of noise, every track on Pale Fire, save Schnauss’ mix, is washed over with waves of transparent reverberation. The difference between the Schnauss assisted track and the rest of the record is stark.
It would be appropriate to take a moment to mention that Dead Leaf Echo is very talented. The EPs title track perfectly alchemizes the instrumentation and shapes the vocals masterfully. It is not a lack of force and or unbalanced production that depresses Pale Fire’s greatness, rather it is the presence of a track with such superior qualities that the others pale in comparison. I would entirely expect anyone who listens to 80’s post-punk and shoegaze to at enjoy the EP, especially as the band promises greater attention to detail, song structure, and production. Pale Fire’s title track can be seen as a down payment on a more intensive sound. It seems as though Dead Leaf Echo have all the raw talent and material to create truly brilliant music, now they simply need the direction and perspective to do it. On April 4th they release their newest work, Truth, mixed by another heavy hitter by the name of John Fryer who has worked with Nine Inch Nails and, you guessed it, Depeche Mode. I am eager to hear if they too heard and understood not only their shortcomings, but also their immense potential.
As noted last month Tim Casher and his fellow native Nebraskans will be playing Brooklyn this Monday at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. The following evening they will cross the East River to play another Bowery venue, the Bowery Ballroom. The last time I saw Cursive was under a starry sky on the campus of UNL. I am not sure who will be traveling to NYC, but I know that this will be a great show by a band that helped build the foundation of everything that is Nebraska indie rock, which many of you know is an extraordinary and unique scene.
In addition to Cursive, those who attend Monday’s Music Hall of Williamsburg event will be glad to hear that Peasant will be opening the night. There will be a sharp contrast between the tonal eccentricities that will flow from each act. Peasant, as I have often written, is delicate and somber, offering a literally perfect emotional performance. Cursive, on the other hand, will be heavy and dynamic. Tim Kasher’s signature croon/scream will introduce a level of aggression, while still maintaining a sense of vulnerability. The show is sold out so, either you took our advice and bought tickets last month, or you are willing to shank someone from behind, because only the rare idiot will sell you their ticket to this show.
Death or Glory Presents(ed): Semi Precious Weapons
The Bowery Electric
February 19th 2009
“I can’t pay my rent but I’m fucking gorgeous”
While this proclamation has echoed through nearly every article of old and new media that discuss Semi Precious Weapons, we can’t help but use it to lead this review. First things first…the venue was…well the venue should have been called The Frosty Nostril. The number of suited Christian Bale American psychos walking into the bathroom in twos and threes was astounding—bordering humorous. At 10PM the venue instituted its delightful hour long open bar, serving any and all vodka drinks for free. The bar tenders weren’t stingy; in fact they were very cooperative to those perched at the bar. Being perched at the bar ourselves, we only too gladly accepted their assistance. Among the highly fashionable nightlife lovers, hovering over vodka sodas and cran, I felt my own morose and indignant attitude toward Manhattan recede. By the time Semi Precious Weapons took the stage to utter the mantra above, the entire audience was primed for the impending onslaught. This band exploits the trends and eccentricities of what at first seems to be a caricature of early to mid 70’s proto-punk pop-glamour, but as vocalist Justin Tranter stepped onto stage with his “quick poncho” and mile-high stilettos, the scent of authentic sexed hedonism permeated the dark dank underground room.
Semi Precious Weapons’ debut full-length We Love You was executive produced by Tony Visconti, known for his long time production relationship with David Bowie. This telling accreditation hints at the substance that the band peddles. Although their set at The Bowery Electric was truncated to around 30 minutes, it injected a dose of vociferous stimulation that, with us at least, has to this moment not quite subsided. After the first few minutes it was clear that the band, particularly guitarist Stevy Pyne, were fucking incredible performers. We were expecting to some degree the debaucherously refined energy Semi Precious Weapons were known to exert. We were not however expecting Mr. Pyne. I had to pay special attention to his face melting licks to be sure that there was not a prerecorded music track making up for the loss of control sure to occur when a set is played with such complete abandon. Even when he walked into the ravenous crowd his execution was perfect. As Tranter climbed over amplifiers and through the ceiling light fixtures, the crowd observed a love for performance and entertainment so rarely offered on the modern stage. While everything about the band exuded fashion and image, Semi Precious Weapons are not prefabricated dogs in show. They are their own masters of ceremony—demanding our attention with the full expectation of obedience. Semi Precious Weapons are slutty enough, aggressive enough, and talented enough to expect what they demand.
February 25th- Santos Party House New York, New York
March 7th- Plush Tucson, Arizona
March 9th-HELL on HEELS @ Beauty Bar Las Vegas, Nevada
March 10th- HELL on HEELS @ Bar Pink San Diego, California
March 11th- HELL on HEELS @ The Knitting Factory Los Angeles, CA
March 12th- HELL on HEELS @ Red Devil Lounge San Fransico, CA
March 13th- HELL on HEELS @ Voodoo Lounge San Jose, California
March 14th- In Store Performance @ Apple Store San Fran!
March 14th- HELL on HEELS @ Fire Escape Bar Citrus Heights, CA
March 15th- HELL on HEELS @ Doug Fir Lounge Portland, Oregon
March 16th- HELL on HEELS @ El Corazon Seattle, Washington
Wednesday, January 28th
105 Eldridge Street, New York NY LES
First it should be noted that for those of you who have never been to Fontana’s in Manhattan, this place is great—go there soon. Granted the place was not exactly packed Wednesday evening, so I do not know the levels of douchebaggery that flow into the joint during peak volume, but I do know the aesthetics are excellent. They have a purple felt pool table…
The venue itself is in the basement. It is a typical Manhattan hole in the ground. The best thing about this set up is that its small size and earth insulated walls ensure ear damage. Fontana’s is blissfully loud. It is dimly lit, giving the room the tenor of an opium den. The bar is positioned in the back, the amber lights drawing attention to the various colored liquids resting on the liquor shelf. It was the perfect place to view The Depreciation Guild in all their shoegazey glory. As of late it has become objectionable to allow oneself to be called “shoegaze,” but there seems to be no argument from the band when people deploy this genre definition—the word appears on their Myspace page no less than 14 times. The thickly constructed wall of melodic noise pulsed from a dark stage. The stage background was lit by a projector emanating Technicolor geometric shapes over the face of the drummer, Anton. Christoph and Kurt were shrouded in pitch, orchestrating their knobs and pedals to direct a deafening wind that blew to the back of the venue. The vocals betray an intense infatuation with 80’s pop melody construction. Their brazil nut colored mod hair styles matched—they looked like a band from an era when constituent musicians would share some attribute, whether it be a hair cut, a t-shirt, or a jacket. Combined with the forceful ambience of guitars, a post-punk back beat, and an accentuation of low-bit synthetic sounds, The Depreciation Guild engaged in an orgy of reverberation and distorted harmonics. Their strong performance confirmed that this wouldn’t be a night of openers and closers, but a menagerie of varied but equally impressive musicians. Rarely is one subjected to such a luxury.
The bands began about a half hour late due to what I can only assume was a lack of audience, but as The Depreciation Guild finished the crowd began to thicken. By the time Cymbals Eat Guitars’ gear was set up, the room was coming alive with chatter and the clinks of whiskey glasses. From the first note, it was determined that Cymbals Eat Guitars was entirely different show than that of the band before. The energy was not subdued, it felt coursing and adrenal. Joe Ferocious’ voice was brain lacerating—a braided arsenal of calm and sensitive croons, lined between what too few people are able to achieve, dopamine inducing screams. And the Hazy Sea exemplifies how the band shifts during their live performance. It is the song that initially hooked me in. Live, the song was twice as loud, twice as energetic, and twice as good. Mr. Ferocious worked his guitar over—tapping and sliding and tweaking the strings into disjointed and caustic solos. It was delicious! The contrast between The Depreciation Guild and Cymbals Eat Guitars cannot be overstated. Ferocious and company’s infatuation with pop doesn’t spend much time contemplating dreamy things; their infatuation is a result of years of underage drinking and late nights listening to Pavement, Pinkerton era Weezer, and Issac Brock. It is an optimism wrought with defiance and the desire to remain unshackled by social expectation. Is this what these people really mean with their music? I don’t know—but it is exactly how their music makes you feel.
Black Diamond Bay headed by ex-Dear member Patrick Krief was yet another turn in this show’s display of style and genre. His voice is refined and his hands play a soulful guitar, fluttering the bluesy Hendrix/Stevie Ray signature across the lower steps of the E and A strings. Krief is a guitar man—he is a songwriter that frames an old and noble tradition into something new. When Black Diamond Bay took stage, the venue had largely become deserted, the once attentive audience forsaking the hole at Fontana’s for some other Manhattan happening. In the end, there only seemed to be the musicians on stage, the bands that came before, my friends, and friends of friends who remained. This was in some ways tragic and in other ways fortunate. Tragic, because the band deserved a full house—fortunate, because we had the house to ourselves and incredible musicians to keep us company. I was afraid that Krief and his mates would not perform as well as they might if the house was at capacity. The room might lack the reciprocal energy required to rock the faces off those who insisted on looking first, hearing first in the front row. I’ll say this, the collection of bands was great and every one of them performed exceptionally, but if there was a crescendo of the night—a highlight that humbled all other moments— and I think the other bands would agree, Krief’s final solo was it. The band didn’t muddle through the night for the first chance to get off the stage; they didn’t offer a half-hearted effort. Krief finished the evening with his white guitar positioned on the ground. While on hands and knees, he pounded with a forceful fist on the fret board like the final desperate moments of CPR, when the chest is pounded with abandon to awaken a dying heart, generating a freight train inside our heads.
All this in an empty venue, in a vacant bar.
Black Diamond Bay continues their tour in support of their latest effort, Calm Awaits, February 5th at The Mercury Lounge. Go…and see for yourself.