2002-10-01 - 2:30 p.m.

Where to they make guys like this? Where can I find some more?

The bassist reminds me of the kid I had a crush on in 8th grade. Dark, lanky, beautiful but awkward. Carlos D lets me pretend that as the kid grew up, he picked up playing the bass, got a cool haircut and now thrashes around recklessly, gracefully onstage, indulging hundreds of sweaty, adoring fans at a time.

As for the band, it's hard to put a finger on why people packed the Middle East last night to the gills and hung on every note that Interpol played. There's nothing truly original about their sound. Maybe because their music actually speaks to our confused pain, enunciates it rather than tries to distract us from how we feel. Perhaps there's something theraputic in that.

I liked seeing their astonished smiles at the end of each song, when the audience would erupt with applause and encouraging hoots, trying to will the set on forever. They said we won "best crowd."

say what? - mas y mas!

© 2004 mine, not yours