Note: Not only do we have terribly photos, but I just don't have time to write an account for this show. Sorry. Here is the quick paragraph version though:

Chicago's Our Friends Electric opened the show with a lot of bad hair and a penchant for Richard Buckner and Will Oldham. Three guitars proved to be utterly pointless – especially considering compositions tended to fall apart the further they strayed from a simple, sparse Americana formula. The guys voice is nice, but you'd rather see him solo at a coffee shop. Bailiff followed, and immediately pissed me off by setting up, then walking away for ten minutes before coming back to play. The singer was either completely wasted as he silently nodded to the audience through a permagrin, or he thought he was God. I'm not sure which. The band was an odd mix of noodling Chicago indie rock and Southern blues making it sort of like Robert Johnson covering a Big Black song. The rhythm section backed up the guitarist nicely, with no frills, but a keen ear and ability to follow. The kids seemed to like it. I'll take a pass on the band. Oh No Oh My was a little less polished than I expected, and, sadly, some of the big orchestrated moments of the album weren't replicated by the live quartet. Constant instrument switching did approximate it though, and the band's already rough-around-the-edges pop did come across strongly. Was I expecting something a little more Bishop Allen? Maybe, but I'll save my judgement for another night when my mood hasn't already been tainted by bizarrely inappropriate opening acts.