attacks their live shows with a frenetic energy that can only come from doing elaborate campfire dances with mischievous, vaguely anthropomorphic pagan deities clad in sparkly athletic gear. They rock classic white tennis outfits, feathers, and war paint. They play without pausing to take a breath. They sound like a pirate invasion, an electroclash polka, an orchestra turned party turned interplanetary zoo. Gravelly-voiced vocalist and resident wild man Honus Honus howls over melodic sax swells, tribal rhythms, high-pitched refrains, creating a cavalcade of sound that wields plenty of skill to match the spectacle.
Not about to pass this up, we braved the hot, humid New York City summer afternoon to trek past tangles of bodegas and looming public housing mazes and out to an isolated bandstand on the East River. If you got lost along the way and missed the show, or simply want to relive the delirious excitement, we've got you covered. Check back in a few weeks for a video of the show it's the next best to being there (except you won't get to bump into Beans in the sweaty mosh pit). Til then, check out the photos photos on Baeble Baeble. - Nina Mashurova
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VIDEO: Man Man at the East River Amphitheater