For some time now - maybe this is number four on the ’signs you’re getting old’ list, right after saying ‘congratulations’ when someone you know gets pregnant, rather than making a barely-concealed grimace - I’ve been tired of going to overcrowded shows. There’s always a brace-faced girl in a baby tee rocking out with her angsty and angry boyfriend who would rather jump in a mosh pit than enjoy the music. (See example from last week.)

Shows for highly-anticipated bands in intimate venues with only 40 or so other people are definitely the way to go. Perfectly hooky pop music, like mathematics, I suppose, could be a universal language. See corollary at Puffy AmiYumi, two Japanese pop stars who sing in (what else?) Japanese, but the language barrier doesn’t seem to have much of an impact on how much you can enjoy one of their songs. I was literally four feet from Dressy Bessy at the Bottom Lounge on Thursday night and, in the echelon of Good Things, such placement near the band is definitely in the top 50. See above picture as reference.

Highlight of the evening: Climbing on stage with the band after the set. I just had the urge to chat up the band after the show, so I jumped on stage and said hey. That’s when you know it’s been a great set: No one bothers to stop you from talking to pop singers.