A little satire to close your week out with. Sure, a lot of music fans in Philadelphia are looking forward to the official opening of the city’s newest venue, Union Transfer—which will take place on September 21st with a performance by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. But there’s one person out there who’s so excited about this momentous occasion—and so eager to share his thoughts about it—that, well, he couldn’t help but post a review of Union Transfer a good month before the venue has opened.
Was good as a spaghetti warehouse then it became the worst venue ever considering it’s never even had one godd*mn show. R5 really botched the job on this one: I went here a week ago to get spaghetti under really f*cking bright lights while listening to sh*tty radio pop music blasted in my dingus ears all f*cking night but it was closed because R5 bought it and R5 don’t know sh*t about spaghetti or warehouses. So I went back a week later to see a R5 show cuz it beats the sh*t out of radio pop blasting in your face while you’re trying to eat Pop’s Lasagna or whatever the godd*mn dish was called (RIP) but, lo and behold, no shows have ever been put on here so my first thought was that this place blows, gets one star, I’m hungry, break my life into pieces, this my last resort, yelp!, etc.
But then I read an exceptional piece of contemporary journalism in the Philadelphia Weekly, which I wish I could review on here but I can’t, and I learned that Union Transfer is the godd*amn best thing to ever happen to music in Philadelphia or anywhere else in the whole scheme of human history other than Bookspace. So the core of my consumer experience started off ~weak/terrible but is now and into the future just nothing short of Tiger Woods golf-quality, which is to say damn near perfect except when it sucks which is rare.
Well said, Justin. R.I.P. “Pop’s Lasagna”—we will always remember to never forget.