Aubrey EdwardsA good friend of mine held a rollicking house show last night that turned into a bona fide hoedown about three blocks away from Chop Suey, but as fun as that was, I had to leave it behind to see the Wooden Birds, too, whose album, Magnolia, I’ve been raving about for months. At her house? Lots of people dancing around to old-timey music. Unbridled, unadulterated fun times (and no, we weren’t trashing the place, either.) And then we got to Chop Suey. The place was half-empty, and even though the band sounded great, everyone was too cool, or too scared, or something, to stand less than ten feet away from the stage. So we said screw that, broke the invisible barrier and moved our butts up to the very front, and my amazing friend single-handedly got a few lovely (and slightly tossed) ladies dancing with us in solidarity, and everyone behind us moved just a touch closer. And yeah, it’s sort of hard to dance to the Wooden Birds. But we managed. We even got to hear a couple American Analog Set songs, because all the Wooden Birds have is that one album to draw from. And to my surprise, Andrew Kenny was on the bass, not the guitar. I was totally expecting him to be guitar-top drumming. While I spent the Wooden Birds’ set in complete and utter bliss, I think the most striking thing about my evening was how different it felt to come from a house show where everyone was visibly into the music to a place where most people weren’t even willing to stand within ten feet of the stage. Which is, unfortunately, a common occurrence. I’m sure plenty of you will agree with me when I say that I get tired of indifferent crowds who can’t bring themselves to come close to the band. It’s like there’s a crowd of ghost people standing up there and if you run into one, you’ll shiver and feel an unpleasant chill, or something. And yet, I don’t think people are actually indifferent. I think they’re just timid. I know a lot of you are shy, music fans. A lot of you have worked hard to overcome major social anxieties. A lot of us were nerdy outcasts as kids who made a practice out of not being noticed too much by the bitchy kid who used to tease you about your bad haircut. It’s a hard habit to overcome. And I also know that the mere thought of someone watching you do your little hipster shuffle and silently judging you (because let’s face it, someone probably is) is painful. It was painful for me, too. I used to be so shy I couldn’t even speak audibly to other people. Dancing in public? I would rather have keeled over and died. And my own personal hipster shuffle is pretty damn embarrassing. But you know what? We all need to give that up and move on. Fuck that person who’s giving you that condescending look because you’re not rhythmically-gifted. Deep down inside, they’re just jealous that they’re too uptight and worried about what everyone else is going to think to cut loose like you. Give it a try. You might enjoy yourself. Because what Andrew Kenny said to me after the show broke my heart a little. He said that if he wrote better songs, people would have come up to the stage, or that more people would have shown up. And that is just not true. While there were a million other shows last night that could’ve accounted for the relative lack of attendance, Andrew Kenny, his songs and his fabulous band absolutely deserved better from that crowd last night. At the very least, they could’ve stood up front and bobbed a little. Is that so much to ask?