sixth and i-ight.

Is it possible that the coolest spot in DC is a synagogue? The answer is yes. The synagogue is cooler than Rhino Bar. But then again, a broken toilet is cooler than most bars in Georgetown. So, let me just put it this way: The Sixth & I Synagogue is to DC what something much better (i.e., any bar) is to New York City. And I'm not even of the Jewish persuasion!

Alas, when the local synagogue transforms itself into a rock'n'roll venue, it doesn't matter. It might seem strange to jam with a giant stained glass Star of David in the background (as it would also be with a Jesus slowly dying on the wall), the venue was absolutely perfect for the event, which just so happened to be The xx.

You may not know them, but I guarantee you know this advertisement (if you're a patriot and watched any of the Olympic games, that is), which features America's Top Soul Patch, Apolo Anton Ohno:



Yeah. Even though they don't correctly capitalize proper nouns, The xx's sh*t is most definitely tight, as they remained cool even with Ohno's horrific facial pubes in plain sight.

Anyway, I don't know how the Sixth and I Synagogue became the most awesome music venue in town (although I have plans to find out), but it is, even without any Manishevitz. I mean, seriously, it's weird, right?

But then again, I'm weird, so I suppose maybe that's why it worked so well for me. It also worked so well because of where I sat during the show. Yep. I placed both my left and right buttock in a little place I like to call the most awesomest seat in the joint! You know, besides all the other ones where you could see the entire stage, etc. (I arrived late because I was eating cookies with Butternuts' crew. "Girl, you silly, they ain't no clowns!")

But really, this seat was actually pretty cool as it gave me an over-the-shoulder view of the percussion section, which amounted to one skinny, white dude in an ear-flap hat and a couple of new-fangled technological wonders that reinvigorated my love of science.

I don't how this man was able to manipulate those machines (shown in the blur of shadows behind the two vocalists), but via a couple of stabs at those many buttons, the synagogue made like a Larry King in Snoop Dogg's low-rider and bounced.

Having not brought along any video capturing infrastructures, I'll instead steal the work of a third party, some French show that the band they performed on last November, to give you an idea about their sound. (Finally, France makes itself useful!)



Unfortunately, the sound quality of that video is about the quality of my photographs, which is perfect because both qualities put together equals about the quality of this blog post. Eh. At least, I had a good time and, come on, that's really all that's important here. And actually, if I didn't eat my helper llama Eugene last week, I'm sure he'd also have had a good time.

And speaking of good times, I blogged about my recent trip to Central America here. If you're jonesin' for good puns (because who isn't?!), that's the place to go. Oh, and howler monkeys!