Nada Surf at Terminal Five. Nadagonnagoagain.

‘Saw Nada surf in concert last night at Terminal 5. Superdrag opened. And you know it's bad when you find yourself trying to remember what song the opening band played while the headliners are on stage. I still can’t think of it either and its bugging the shit out of me…was it off of Regretfully Yours or Head Trip in Every Key..? Back to Nada Surf. Maybe it was the venue (although I like Terminal 5, I have to admit). Maybe it was the crowd (which ruined it for me when I saw Wilco in Athens, GA. But then again, it was Athens, GA.) But the experience was rather…how do I say this…lame. And one lighter going up away from being overall cheesy.

They put on a great show, don’t get me wrong. I think they played for almost two hours last night. I remember because I kept yawning and checking my phone. (10:36, 11:21, 11:29, 11:59…yep two hours.)

I have to give it up to Matthew Caws, though. Dude can sing. And without excessive use of alcohol or frequent prima donna exits off stage. But he put on a fox hat. A fox hat. Not like a Davey Crockett hat with the tail that hangs down in back. Like a hat with a stuffed fox on it. A fox hat. Repeating it only makes it worse. I looked around to see if any one else noticed how utterly ridiculous he looked. Cue, Chris our new receptionist from Manchester: “Oh wow! What a wanker!” Agreed, except I would have called him a douchebag, but all’s fair in love of name calling. The other wanker douchebags in the crowd didn’t seem to flinch, though. Like good little groupie puppets they waved there hands from side to side on Caws command, they lit up the same time dirty bass player, Daniel Lorca did, and some even forgot all about the cell phone they lost when jumping up and down on my friend, Melody’s, toes, to respectfully pay homage to the once indie cool Brooklynites who sold out for teenage assholes as soon as they got, well, Popular.