populist New England rock, anyone?

Brian Williams hanging with Deer Tick. Keep calm, ladies, keep calm.

To commemorate the last balmy night of autumn, we tossed our jackets to the wind and went out for a bar-hopping 14th Street evening - begining with beers and NY baseball and finishing with Whiskey (flying through the air) and New England beats. Starting, as every proper evening should, with the best garlic fries + truffle mayo ever (well, this month, at least).... Jamie and I sat noshing and brown ale-ing at Policy's shiney bar before strolling south on 14th to the depths of the Black Cat's backstage.

After being pleasantly serenaded by opening act Dolorean, Rhode Island quartet Deer Tick took the stage around 11:30, along with some friends, some whiskey, lots of Budweisers, lots of flannel, a harmonica, and all the other solid makings of a populist, New England indie folk troupe. They came out with their usual grimey look, gritty guitar riffs, and lead singer John McCauley's Jack Daniel's-soaked vocals. So energetic, yet hella laid back. A refreshing change from the normal, self-important indie act to come to any of the District's stages.

An edgey version of "Standing at the Threshold"

Then toning it down with "Art Isn't Real" (a favorite of mine)

Nearing 1:15 in the morning, they wrapped it up with an ultra guitar heavy La Bamba. In double time, of course.