Yes Yes Yes

Keep New Times Free
I Support
  • Local
  • Community
  • Journalism
  • logo

Support the independent voice of Miami and help keep the future of New Times free.

Pompano Beach can be an eerie and uncomfortable place for the Miami traveler. Piles of boats glisten menacingly in harsh parking lot floodlights and pick-up trucks roll along Sample Road, their exteriors plastered with Hooters bumper stickers and creative arrangements of stars and bars.

But the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were performing at Club Cinema, so we hit I-95, marked our parking spot, (walk past Kentucky Fried Chicken, take a right at Tire Kingdom, and venture into the shadows behind the Jiffy Lube garage) and joined throngs of teenagers, whose gross domestic hair product was at least a million gallons.

Entering the darkness of Club Cinema to the final strains of opening band Deer Hunter was a relief of sorts. By the time the YYYs took the stage the menacing world outside was all but forgotten, particularly with the entrance of singer Karen O., whose outfit deserves recounting.

From the bottom up: Red Converse low tops. Over them, gaiters of metallic fabric, the backs crafted to resemble little stegosaurus spines and the fronts adorned with what looked like bicycle streamers. This futuristic look contrasted with her streaked tights, which under the stage lights were a vision of tree bark and lichen. Silver hot pants and a silver halter top. A corset made of something shiny and red that tied from behind. A silver ski cap, complete with ear flaps. Occasionally a metal mask, and a sparkling red and black scarf brandished from time to time in a torero-like fashion. The singer mussed her bowl cut and leapt and frolicked and shrieked, occasionally drinking from a bottle of water and spewing it in the air like a cherub in a Versailles fountain.

The show was sweet, and (as Karen O. announced before launching into an acoustic rendition of "Maps") all four of drummer Brian Chase's grandparents were in attendance, along with Karen's parents and guitarist Nick Zinner's uncle. The band kept waving up at them (they were all seated in a balcony to the side) and giggling. For the encore Karen came out in a purple and yellow unitard, with purple and yellow Nike high-tops. She's like the female Freddy Mercury (ignoring the gender implications of such a statement, which pose a harrowing intellectual dilemma).-Emily Witt

Keep Miami New Times Free... Since we started Miami New Times, it has been defined as the free, independent voice of Miami, and we would like to keep it that way. Offering our readers free access to incisive coverage of local news, food and culture. Producing stories on everything from political scandals to the hottest new bands, with gutsy reporting, stylish writing, and staffers who've won everything from the Society of Professional Journalists' Sigma Delta Chi feature-writing award to the Casey Medal for Meritorious Journalism. But with local journalism's existence under siege and advertising revenue setbacks having a larger impact, it is important now more than ever for us to rally support behind funding our local journalism. You can help by participating in our "I Support" membership program, allowing us to keep covering Miami with no paywalls.

We use cookies to collect and analyze information on site performance and usage, and to enhance and customize content and advertisements. By clicking 'X' or continuing to use the site, you agree to allow cookies to be placed. To find out more, visit our cookies policy and our privacy policy.


Join the New Times community and help support independent local journalism in Miami.


Join the New Times community and help support independent local journalism in Miami.