by JOHN TAYLOR
Photography NIKKI LOEHR
I’m John Taylor. I write. I go to shows.
Ever scope out the crowd and notice a loner standing off to the side quietly jotting down notes?
That’s me. The sore thumb who knows all the words but doesn’t sing along; the outcast who anticipates each punchline but doesn’t laugh; the lone attendee who is aware of the twist ending but doesn’t gasp when the rest of the room does.
I’m the critic, documenting each nuance so the people who weren’t at the show on Friday night know whether to buy tickets for Saturday night.
It’s my job to have an opinion. What’s yours?
Double Take is my way of drawing you into the critic’s circle. You have an opinion, too. Let’s hear it. First my take, then yours. No notepad required.
And without further adieu…
We’re only one song into the setlist, and Flushing, Queens, New York chef-turned-emcee Action Bronson has just been handed a joint. Despite the numerous signs adorning the Metro, reminding patrons that “NO SMOKING” is allowed-both indoors and out-Action lights up. He exhales, smoke rising above his gray ski cap. The song he’s stomping through, “The Don’s Cheek,” name checks the following: jet skis, choice weed, David Spade.