The Futureheads played a secret show for BrooklynVegan’s Rock’n'ROFL at Pianos. Only about 100 lucky people got to go, and I was one of them!

My favorite parts were when one of the supremely drunken audience members jumped on stage to take over the mic and scream some jibberish, and when Ross from FH asked an audience member, if like him, he got mistaken for the singer of the Decemberists.

more photos after the jump…
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After finally catching Jones Street Boys one freezing winter evening at Mercury Lounge just prior to seeing Cloverfield, as they warmed our hearts even with songs like “Winter’s Waltz” (I think that was the name), I couldn’t think of anything more enjoyable than catching them at Pianos in the Spring. Sadly, I wasnt able to do that on Saturday, but our good friend Shruti Ganguly was. Here’s her report:

 [read the review after the jump]
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Andrew Borin used to belong to a Hasidic street gang that would ride bicycles all over Los Angeles tagging properties with pink Stars of David. He is guest writing today’s show review for Almack’s because he’s all sorts of awesome. Lastnight he pranced over to Pianos in the oddly warm April Fools’ evening to check out your new favorite singer, Sierra Swan. Here’s his review:

Let me just preface this entry by saying I’m not usually one for moody girl singers, but I was having a total Lilith Fair moment yesterday. What with the weather being so nice in New York I decided to head over to Piano’s and watch singer/song writer Sierra Swan perform. In today’s musical landscape its difficult to find a pop singer that can actually make quality music, think Imogen Heap, Regina Spektor. However, Sierra Swan joins those women in the rankings. Her robust voice is reminiscent of Amy Winehouse yet she utilizes it to create sultry and haunting melodies. She’s obviously a veteran performer, the entire show felt as if she was performing in her living room.
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It’s 6:15 pm and I still feel sick. Ugh. I feel like tequila is seeping through my pores and I’m getting drunk and sick again from the fumes, and on my toilet are the dried remains of puke — presumably mine — from last night. How did this happen?

Oh, I’ll tell you how.
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