Two weeks ago I ventured to the border between Greenpoint and Williamsburg to a little venue called Warsaw for an intimate night with one of my favorites, Weezer. I love their music but admittedly, I don’t follow them as closely as I do Green Day and sometimes I’m not happy about that (I know, #firstworldproblems). I saw them play an epic concert with The Flaming Lips in 2011 and hadn’t had the chance to see them again since.
Warsaw felt smaller than Irving Plaza. Ben and I stood to the side near the front the entire time. There was another fan next to us who was probably in his late 30′s and was likely in college when the Blue Album came out. He looked like he probably asked his wife to watch their first born for the night so he could relive his college memories.
They played for an hour and a half and they played all their hits (no, really, look at this setlist). Including Beverly Hills! This was the one song they didn’t play in 2011 that I wanted to play. Weezer is a trip down memory lane through grade school and now through my 20s.
I didn’t get home until 11:30 on a “school” night, but it was worth it.
Lole White Yoga in Central Park
When I entered and won my ticket to Lole White’s free massive yoga class in Central Park, it said the start time was 4:30 and I was like, “Oh well, can’t go. #adulting.” Then I realized the class started at 6 and I assumed probably later (because lots of adults in this city are lucky enough to have jobs) and left the office fifteen minutes early arriving around 6:10 to the Great Lawn. I own zero pairs of white leggings (for obvious reasons) but I wore my mint green pair (also not flattering, but less unflattering than white) and a white t-shirt.
I was towards the back but I found an unclaimed mat and gift bag (with a Fuji water bottle, a water bottle light, a Lole no-slip headband (spoiler: it slips), a protein packet, a magazine, among other things) and sat down to warm up.
The class was taught by three teachers and was more vigorous than I anticipated (but i loved every minute of it). There were volunteers walking around helping people with their alignment and it kinda-sorta made me want to take a teacher training course so I could qualified to do the same thing someday. Anyways. The chick in front of me wouldn’t stop stopping to take photos though – and having her male friend take photos of her in random poses. Put down your damn phone, girl.
The class was accompanied by the beautiful music Ingrid Michaelson and the weather was perfect. I rolled up my new mat, tucked it into my new tote bag, and peaced out through Central Park.
It was a good way to spend a Wednesday night.
So, last Friday was the Guster concert in Port Chester (just a half-hour train ride up the Hudson River!). We had General Admission floor tickets, so we just sat where ever (which happened to be in the center, about 7 rows back, on the aisle). Yellowbirds was the opening act, and he was lovely (and Guster’s Luke Reynolds played with him too!). He apparently lives near the Passaic Bridge in Brooklyn and wrote a song about it, which was quite good.
A Guster concert is basically watching a game of musical chairs. I was unbelievably impressed with the variety of instruments they could all play. They shifted seats after almost every song. Ryan Miller was hysterical – blunt and sarcastic. He improved a song while taking his coat off called “I’m A Sexy Mofo” and later improved another song called “Brian’s College Thesis,” when a fan showed up with a copy of Brian Rosenworcel’s college thesis (weird? awesome? I don’t know.).
The Guster String Players were awesome too. I can’t recall either of their names (and I can’t find them on the internet either for some reason) but they were a wickedly awesome violinist and cellist. They added a ton of depth and emotion to Guster’s already fantastic songs. The song Beginning of the End was probably the highlight for their talents and we all cheered after the huge solo in the middle. How their fingers don’t kill by the middle of that song is beyond me.
They took requests in the middle of show, from the guy sitting in the furthest reaches of the balcony, and from those who brought the weirdest crap imaginable to the show (at Ryan’s request on Twitter earlier that day).
“This is our last song. After that we’re going to leave the stage for about 14 seconds, and then come back and play one more. So here we go,” stated Ryan before they played This Could All Be Yours. Their true finale (pictured above) was the most stripped down (although the entire concert was acoustic, but ya know) as the four of them approached the end of the stage and played Jesus on the Radio (video here!).
You can find the entire setlist here. Afterward my (truly awesome) date and I went for chili at this hole-in-the-wall called Pat’s Hubba Hubba before stopping into a bar to warm up before catching a train back to the city. While at the nameless bar, a Guster song (I believe it was Satellite) came on and we (the bar patrons) cheered.
I will definitely go see Guster next time they play near the city. They’re worth the trek and 12* weather.