You know the person who texts you song lyrics at one in the morning with no context and assumes you will understand. This band is for them, and you should probably be the one to forward it.
Frog are a Queens two-piece who write like a short-story collection, songs stuffed with impossibly specific American proper nouns: minor-league ballparks, dead presidents, girls named in full, towns you would have to look up. Live they play everything faster than the records and the vocals crack in exactly the places you want them to crack. The band has never been large and has never tried to be, which is why a Sunday-night room in San Diego will contain forty people who know every word and nobody who wandered in.
Sunday shows at the Casbah empty out by eleven, and the walk back toward Little Italy with the airport flight path directly overhead turns out to be part of the evening.
21+. Doors 7pm, show 8pm. $25. Mildred opens.
You know the person who texts you song lyrics at one in the morning with no context and assumes you will understand. This band is for them, and you should probably be the one to forward it.
Frog are a Queens two-piece who write like a short-story collection, songs stuffed with impossibly specific American proper nouns: minor-league ballparks, dead presidents, girls named in full, towns you would have to look up. Live they play everything faster than the records and the vocals crack in exactly the places you want them to crack. The band has never been large and has never tried to be, which is why a Sunday-night room in San Diego will contain forty people who know every word and nobody who wandered in.
Sunday shows at the Casbah empty out by eleven, and the walk back toward Little Italy with the airport flight path directly overhead turns out to be part of the evening.
You know the person who texts you song lyrics at one in the morning with no context and assumes you will understand. This band is for them, and you should probably be the one to forward it.
Frog are a Queens two-piece who write like a short-story collection, songs stuffed with impossibly specific American proper nouns: minor-league ballparks, dead presidents, girls named in full, towns you would have to look up. Live they play everything faster than the records and the vocals crack in exactly the places you want them to crack. The band has never been large and has never tried to be, which is why a Sunday-night room in San Diego will contain forty people who know every word and nobody who wandered in.
Sunday shows at the Casbah empty out by eleven, and the walk back toward Little Italy with the airport flight path directly overhead turns out to be part of the evening.