Sounds Very Karen

It was a clamorous evening.

My neighborhood record store, Steady Sounds, was hosting two bands for our listening and dancing pleasure.

The three-block walk over was unexpectedly scenic when fat snowflakes began falling.

Could it really be only three days ago that I wore shorts on my morning walk?

Inside the store, a crowd was growing and Hoax Hunters was about to begin.

Lead singer and guitarist PJ warned us that it was going to be loud. "I have earplugs if you need them and I won't be offended if you take them. Tim will be, though."

Tim was the bass player (and also the drummer for the Diamond Center) and none of us wanted to disappoint him.

For the record, only one person took PJ up on his earplugs offer.

Hoax Hunters are loud, no question about it, but they're also exciting to watch because all three of them are having such a good time.

In the middle of one song, just as the drum solo took off, PJ stepped over by the record bins and began browsing the stacks until he was needed again.

You don't block a drum break in Hoax Hunters, it seems.

Tim's parents were in the house and introduced, waving nicely to those of us crowded around them.

Their songs are fast and hard, not long, and neither was their set so just as everyone's ears were adjusting to the volume, PJ introduced their last song.

"This is off our EP, which isn't a record, but is available for download. Sorry, Steady Sounds."

Of course the irony of that is that PJ and his cute wife are inveterate record collectors.

During the break, I tested my hearing by chatting up friends about the WRIR party, particularly enjoying telling a musician friend that local band Dead Fame had personalized beach balls at the show.

The WTF? look on his face as his eyes widened was the comic high point of the afternoon.

PJ said that after the show he was going to Don't Look Back to eat and kindly invited me to join him and a friend, but I explained that I was going to Edo's Squid for a mutual friend's birthday dinner.

"Sounds very Karen," PJ noted.

Actually, it didn't because I'm not much of an Edo's Squid type at all, but the birthday girl had made the restaurant choice, not me.

E.D. Sedgwick, a D.C. band. came out next and immediately set the tone in their all-white ensembles.

The theme carried over to instruments, with the guitarist playing a black and white double-neck guitar and the bass player playing a white bass.

It carried over to the two female singers, one of whom was black and one white.

The only thing out of place so far as I could tell was that the drummer had a guitar tattooed on his arm.

The band's music sounded post-punk but the addition of the two female singers took it into the power pop range as the band rocked out for their all-too brief set.

The rhythm section anchored the whole thing magnificently.

"Hey, has Richmond changed in the past couple of years?" bandleader Justin called out to the adoring crowd, several of whom danced through every song (Janet, I'm looking at you).

"Yes," someone called out. "I'm speaking for everyone."

"Well, this song is for everyone who liked it better before," he challenged. "It's called "Rock the Boat."

And it did, indeed, rock the record store and everyone in it.

He also gave a shout out to the drummer, saying, "Let's have a round of applause for Sammy, who's not really in our band."

Well, that explained a couple of things- the guitar tattoo and the presence of a second guy since E.D, Sedgwick is known to be just Justin and all women.

Hell, he used to perform in drag until he got tired of wearing a dress (can't relate; I love wearing dresses).

I got the sense that everyone in the room would have liked them to go on playing, but an in-store appearance only lasts so long before the band has to move on.

I did stuff some cash in the pitcher for their time and checked out their spanking new album, "We Wear White" before heading out into the evening.

Stop #2 was Edo's Squid where a VCU game made for horrific traffic near the Squid.

Inside, the parking situation caused our group of nine to assemble slowly and with Edo's strict seating policy, we spent 45 minutes being in the way of busboys as we crowded around the bar while our empty table sat tucked into a corner waiting for us.

The clamor of punk was well-matched in the incessant din that is Edo's during dinner service.

On the plus, side, I met a bunch of interesting people with whom I was about to have dinner.

Once at the table, we began the Edo's traditional "family-style negotiation" process required when a group is sharing dishes.

Eventually an accord was reached and the food began arriving.

Squid in lemon, arugula, garlic butter and pine nuts. Sausage with polenta and white beans. Penne with mushrooms. Spaghetti with white clam sauce. Whole red snapper (they were out of Branzino). Brocoli rabe with penne.

I'd chosen a seat on the "hearty eating" side of the table as opposed to the facing side who mainly ate pasta and made us feel like gluttons.

And both sides were okay with that.

There was an interesting architect on my left and we spent a fair amount of time talking about the local restaurant scene.

I tried having a cross-table conversation about the Colloquial Orchestra at the WRIR party, but the distance cross the large round table made it challenging.

But the birthday dinner was great fun, with too much food, lots of new conversational partners and a radiant birthday girl celebrating with friends.

We even did the requisite group picture although my head somehow didn't make it into the frame.

When we finally said goodnight, the birthday girl was heading to Balliceaux to dance her birthday butt off.

My next stop was Fat Dragon to check out their Saturday night DJ scene.

The place wasn't nearly as crazed as the last time I'd been in, but maybe that's just because few Richmonders eat dinner at 10:30.

There were plenty of drinkers, though, as the DJ played an indie dance mix that could have used a little more energy given that it was Saturday night.

I became one with a glass of Honora Vera Garnacha and a look around.

A couple came in and sat down next to me, the guy complaining about the weather.

"I'm from Chicago and I hate this cold, " he said, smiling and rubbing his hands together.

He and his partner had just come from Richmond Triangle Players' show of  "Before It Hits Home" and recommended it highly for the range of emotions depicted.

Random theater recommendations are always welcome.

He inquired what I'd been up to like we were old friends and I shared my story of the family-style meal with him.

The DJ was perched high on a catwalk overlooking the bar, far away from anyone wanting to make requests.

Intentional or accidental?

The best part was the volume; it was loud enough to make for a definitive vibe but still allow for easy conversation.

I may just be back to see if I can hit on a DJ more to my musical taste on a Saturday night.

A good beat you can dance to trumps clamor every time. Just ask the birthday girl.