Music

If you need music, book a collective!

The lamen, thinking only of Mick Jagger and his rooster strut might bark the former inspires the most wicked of onstage pleasures. But the musician, after all, has at least a little bit of "normal people," peasant blood in him. He's only human. You, sir: do you feel more at ease galavanting onstage like a lunatic alone, or with eleven other people? One might say that the members of the indie collective are more enabled to put on a good show, hop around like a monkey, lose their shit like a teenage girl screaming along at a Justin concert. There's a psychology of the masses, and it says this: even the most idiotic of ideas can gather exponential rushes of gathering energy behind them, which grow and grow into a spasmadic explosion of bliss; imagine what happens with a good idea.