Sometimes it all just clicks. All those crucial aspects of self-expression masquerading as entertainment come together and the music transcends style, time, and even ownership. Without getting too touchy-feely here, I gotta say that Dean and Britta's performance at The Lovin' Cup Saturday night was a low-key celebration with the band's hipster narrative, dangerous beauty, and atmospheric bloom. With simply structured songs performed with stoic grace, this band was amazing. It swirled and seethed a bit at times like a junky itch, but the blending of Dean Wareham's baritone with Britta Phillip's coquettish contralto lullaby'd and pacified. Both sang a little emotionally distant and casual. It was hypnotic and sonically voluptuous, but not always perfect and pretty - kind of like Jayne Mansfield with a black eye. Dean and Britta proved that extended trips into minor keys can blend and blur the happy with the melancholy almost magically. I left this show changed.

New York City's Hollands opened the show and played what they call Dutch pop. It was a richly dynamic set a la Wilco, but with more pizzazz. It's a delicate balance for drummers; the good ones often go unnoticed and the ones that aren't tend to trample. Not since David King - that maniac that drums for the Bad Plus - have I been so enamored of a drummer. This guy was so tight and understated one moment and thunderocious the next, he drove the band into even further dynamic intrigue and excitement.