Another good show last night at my favorite venue around, the Paradise. We saw Snow Patrol (with the charming, sibling-stocked Eisley opening) play an energetic, if oddly-constructed set in front of a sold out crowd. The album has grown on me, and the band played a set that, at moments, made me happy to be enjoying a moment or two in the long and storied history of bands, invariably made up of four or five guys with slightly different-length hair, hailing from somewhere in the British Isles. That’s an odd way of explaining it, and I don’t mean the Beatles, but there’s a certain sound the band achieved last night that fits nicely in the timeline with the Stone Roses, Blur, Ride, Supergrass, Doves, Coldplay, and others. It’s a classic sound when you hear it on an album, and it’s got even more pull and power live; last night, Snow Patrol got there a couple of times, and for that I was happy. Another element of seeing a band like that in concert is the dependable and charming culture-clash commentary from the lead singer. Last night, it was bemusement at the Jimmy Buffet fans who clogged the bars the night before. “All these people with parrots on their heads. Is it not true they’re worn on the shoulder, traditionally?”

My new camera arrived yesterday afternoon, as well, so it was a good opportunity to test it out. It’s a lot quicker, more responsive, and has a raft of features I have yet to understand. But it still takes pictures, and fits in my pocket, so I’m happy.