
This year, I regret playing Billy Idol's "Eyes Without a Face" six times in a row on a jukebox, even though it's one of the best songs ever. I regret writing that any band sounds like Ariel Pink, when it's just lazy shorthand for describing someone's music as "kinda weird." I regret not alerting anyone that Math the Band had to reschedule the show that I previewed in the paper. I regret that not every concert this year could be Jeff Mangum filling the Moore Theater with tears, Annie Clark crowd-surfing while the sun set on Coachella, or Frank Ocean captivating a sold-out Showbox at the Market with his sheepish charisma.
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