The concert, at Park Slope-Gowanus' Rock Shop, was a going away—the band's last before it travels to Sweden as part of a tour with the Brooklyn Brewery, which is transporting local beer and local bands to northern Europe. (Among other bands, the show included the winners of the recent G train songwriting contest.) It was a triumph, a kind of top-tenner for those present: the band not only live-debuted its new material, but dipped deep into its catalog for an unusual set list that drew more than usual on the early years—a poignant full-circling.
In their earliest years, the Glos lived in Bay Ridge, and several locals helped raise the crowd's energy level. Half a dozen Bay Ridge dudes got a pit going within a few songs, provoking the rest of the audience to, if not join in, at least dance and jump around its edges. (Titus Andronicus's Patrick Stickles, a friend of the band, was up by the stage.) During the third-to-last song, lead singer Alex Levine leaped into the crowd and was caught by his fans, who lifted him like a fallen deity before dropping him into the pit, where he danced a while, microphone in hand; then he jumped back on stage for the chorus. After that, he suggested he was ready to call it a night, but the audience begged for more. "Best show ever," somebody shouted. But it wasn't a show, man—it was a raucous fucking party.
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