The Heart of Saturday Night

A night on the town with Heartbeat City columnist Megan Metzger

More often than not, our sleazy little town affords us the luxury of going to several live music happenings all in one night. Each offers something a little different, kind of like a buffet at a casino. (Have you been to one of those? They’re fucking insane. You can eat fried wontons, a fudge-brownie sundae, lasagna and scrambled eggs all in one sitting — I mean, if that’s what you’re into).

Anyway, this past Saturday was such a night.

After attending the premiere of local design powerhouse MK12’s absurd, ultra-violent and totally kickass cowboys ‘n’ astronauts short film, The History of America, some friends and I ventured down to the Brick to down a delicious libation that was on special. The drink tasted exactly like a Louie-Bloo Raspberry Otter Pop, but with vodka. The bartender called the toilet bowl aqua-colored concoction “Electric Blue Lemonade,” but my friend Sheppa re-dubbed it “Smurf Juice,” a decidedly catchier moniker.

That night’s bill at the Brick included Hundred Years War, Minds Under Cover and the Sperm. Each band varies greatly in influences (from Unsane to Mr. Bungle to Lightning Bolt), but all share one important distinction: they’re loud as fuck.

The Republic Tigers