From This Might Be A Wiki

Fan Recaps and Comments:

Review by Adam Kintopf
TMBG played to a packed, lyric-savvy house under the six grandfatherly eyes of William Allen White at downtown Minneapolis's First Avenue nightclub Wednesday night. Flansburgh was in rare form, charging back and forth across the stage and slam-dancing with his guitar as much as playing it. In fact, on the (second) encore of "Birdhouse in Your Soul," he seemed to be enjoying himself so much that he became momentarily disoriented, and almost missed his cue to sing backup. Linnell, on the other hand, while in very fine voice (especially on "Hopeless Bleak Despair"), seemed under the weather. It seemed possible he was under the influence of Tylenol PM, or something. I've heard much about his trademark "insane stare," but I think there was more to it than that this time—he looked bleary-eyed, almost half-asleep, most of the time. He was crabby, too, grousing about having to play "Birdhouse" one more time (saying, "If you cut off our heads, our bodies could still play this song by sheer reflex, spurting blood as they did it," or something along those lines), and signing off with a curt "Goodbye." Still, he sounded good. The Johns' clothing seemed to reflect their respective attitudes: Flansburgh was dapper in a cheery yellow button-down shirt, and Linnell looked like he had just woken up in a dingy gray t-shirt and jeans. Musically, the performance left little to be desired, with "Cyclops Rock," the new John-vs.-John version of "Fingertips," "Man, It's So Loud in Here" (complete with disco ball and fog machine), "Hopeless Bleak Despair," "Boss of Me," "She's an Angel," and the newly touching "New York City" standing out. TMBG made great use of the club's lighting system, too.