When I heard that the French band Phoenix was coming to The Fillmore in Miami Beach, I got a ticket as soon as I could. I was expecting a good show. What I got was the best concert of the year — maybe the best I’ve ever been to.
It’s a scientific fact (that I’ve just made up) that it’s impossible not to smile while riding a jet ski. This fact applies to certain other things — watching a baby laugh, holding a banjo, and eating a sundae. After seeing Vampire Weekend, I’m now adding that experience to the list.
“What song is this?” I ask. My friend, sitting next to me, responds, “I’m not sure. It’s just f***ing Dylan, and that’s all that matters”— and he’s right.