Normally that scenario doesn't turn out well, but the Old 97s' rabid fan base (an acquaintance we ran into described her boyfriend as wanting to perform fellatio on them all) kicked up the energy in the room something fierce. The second opener, Hayes Carll, had us nervous: with the oompah rhythm, lack of backbeat, and the liberal application of lap steel, there wasn't much "alt" about their take on country. But the Old 97s, led by Rhett Miller, emerged to pound out something that sounded a lot more like good old-fashioned rock-and-roll than anything. And the crowd responded by doing something we rarely see in Seattle clubs: dancing.
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