I traveled on down to Brooklyn not too long ago in a delightful evening downpour to see my friends, We Are Country Mice. And much like every other time I've gone to see them perform, they were amazing. And, of course, no one went with me. Again. Thus, the nipple fire in your general direction.
The thing I like about these guys is that they don't fit into a cut & dry genre. Rock people think they're too country. Country people think they're too rock. I think they have a delicious smattering of both. Not only that, but when I check out their shows and stick around for the other bands, We Are Country Mice usually outperform whoever else they share the stage with. And whereas most of the other bands performing fit into the Indie Brooklyn Scene, We Are Country Mice go against it, but still attract fans of the Indie Scene. Which, of course, makes for an awkward crowd experience for me as I don't generally fit into that mix of characters (picture a short, somewhat portly guy with a well-kempt beard and near-bald head in baggy jeans, t-shirt and hoodie mingling with tall, incredibly skinny people dressed in super-skinny jeans, vibrantly colored shirts and hair-styles and colors I didn't know could be produced). I'm not knocking the style. That's not how I roll. Do as you please with your life and your appearance. I don't care. What I am saying is that in between sets, if I started chatting up one of these people about college basketball and the upcoming baseball season, I'd have better luck getting a response out of the floor.
Anyway, We Are Country Mice are recording an EP. Which, much like the band, I am incredibly excited for. Except that I don't own a record player. Guess that means I have to keep going to the shows. Which in no way is that a bad thing. They're good people. Fun to hang out with and great on stage. I say, "Keep up the good work, gents." And to those of you who still won't go to a show with me, shame on your face.
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