Shows/2026-05-30

From This Might Be A Wiki


Fan Recaps and Comments:[edit]

Rosefox:

What a fantastic capstone to a three-night stand. The Lincoln songs always go over well, and because they're so short — which was affectionately mocked in the patter — you can fit a lot of them into one show. The Stick made a triumphant appearance for "Lie Still, Little Bottle" and Marty was solemn and precise for his three cowbell notes on "Shoehorn with Teeth." (If a bootleg picks up somebody yelling "WHY?" right after JF sings "But he doesn't get nervous," that was me, with a hat-tip to the great Da Vinci's Notebook.) I think my favorite of that set was "Piece of Dirt," which JF gave such deep and soulful pathos. JF and JL like to make fun of their age, but they're both far better singers now than they were when these tracks were cut, with impressive power and range of expression.
The new songs were fun too, and the band clearly had fun performing them. Nostalgia's great and all, but there's an especially vibrant character to the material that was written/arranged for the full band from the start.
Good music has an anesthetic quality, but it fades quickly during the break between sets. Those of us who had been to all three shows (and stood outside on line for some number of hours each night) spent those twenty minutes cursing our aching feet, knees, and backs. But ending the first set with "Birdhouse" usually means the second set and encores are going to be a nonstop party of other big hits, so we had that to look forward to.
The only hiccup in the second half was a muddled "Cloisonné"; I imagine it's an absolute nightmare to play live because you either nail it or you really don't, and this time they didn't. But it was really funny to hear the crowd putting on squeaky voices for "I don't wanna tell 'im, mister!" Otherwise, no complaints whatsoever. As soon as we were slammed into "Man, It's So Loud in Here," "Damn Good Times" (with an unusually un-flashy solo from Dan Miller), and "Don't Let's Start" back to back to back, the anesthetic kicked in again and I danced like I'd never been in pain in my life. We needed the relative breather of "2082" and "Wearing a Raincoat" before the pedal went to the metal again for "Twisting." I love watching the crowd for those big numbers, everyone punching the air and yelling "SHE WANTS, SHE WAAAAAAAANTS!" It was a fantastic crowd, even by Saturday night sold-out show standards, and I often took my earplugs out so I could hear us all singing along together.
The second set concluded with "Get Down" (clearly destined to join the dance hit pantheon) and a stellar "Istanbul," both featuring the horns at their very best. We didn't have to wait long for the encore of "Operation" and the always-cathartic "When Will You Die." The lights went down, we pleaded for one more song... and they came back and gave us "The End of the Tour." Ohhhh, I cried. I'm sure I wasn't the only one crying. The band looked practically ready to cry. JF played his tiny little solo with such a solemn expression that it felt like a dirge. Our beautiful, incredible, amazing, transcendent three nights together had come to an end, and we couldn't help but grieve.
But they will always come back to Brooklyn. And we'll be waiting.