Goodie Mob played Neumos on Wednesday, Feb. 24.I’m not gonna lie, Seattle: Sometimes, you really piss me off. You can be passive-aggressive and snooty about stupid things, like the quality of your bud. You make lame excuses for the weather (“well, it does make things green”), and you actually enjoy riding bikes. Also: you look at me funny when I try to have a conversation with you at the bar, even though, yes, I’m a stranger. But last night at Neumos, you made me proud. You showed up en masse for Goodie Mob–a group who provided the soundtrack to my youth and who created music that could only have come from the American South. It’s inimitable. You got drunk (me too) and you danced–another rarity. And this really was impressive: you knew the lyrics to the songs. Hand on my heart, one guy sang along to “Goodie Bag.” (“So put some fire on the ass end of that weed/’Cause in Swats red hots don’t drip or bleed.”) Shit, all four members of Goodie looked surprised at the showing and the reception. And somewhere in there I realized something, Seattle: maybe–just maybe–you’re not the problem. Maybe it’s me.