I woke up in a closet.

I saw M83 at Irving Plaza last night.  I don’t usually buy tickets to see a band unless I’m really in love with the band and I buy them months ahead of time (Daft Punk).  Earlier in the day, Scott interviewed Anthony from the band for work.  He got two free tickets to the show, so I went along.  It turns out going to concerts when you didn’t expect to is an even better experience than otherwise.  I’d mostly forgotten about how much of a pain in the ass it is to stand in a crowded venue so close to other people’s conversations that I inevitably eves drop upon until the show starts.  Anyway.  We stood up in the balcony and my only problem was a short girl that stood behind me the whole time.  Near the end of the show, she started to feel like a tumor.

Anyway, if I were in a particularly nostalgic mood or if my memories from high school were flashing before my eyes, I’d like M83 to soundtrack the event.  It’s too bad there weren’t enough synthesizers (listen to wave 2) to accompany my teenaged emotions in Batavia.  With that, my favorite M83 song in all of it’s John Hughes-movie style glory.