I'm out in Williamsburg tonight for the annual Armory Show Brooklyn Night, where galleries throw open their doors with the lure of free beer, wine, and other treats in the hope of enticing some last-minute art buyers looking for the right boho something to take home to Precious. Wandering aimlessly, I stumble upon something called the Chain of Love: a series of consecutive performance events scattered throughout the neighborhood. Sounds promising, especially when I land at the Journal Gallery for what's billed as "a very special musical event."Uh...no. Unless you count three college-aged twits singing cover songs. Badly. Sample stage banter:
"Are you sure you don't want to play it on the guitar?"
"I don't know the chords."
Thaks for the PBR, kids. Time to move on.