Anjunadeep

For those who believe they've heard it all, prepare to have your sonic senses reawakened. This isn't just another gig—this is a collision of musical galaxies. Sam Wenc, the one-man orchestra with a penchant for hypnotic melodies, joins forces with More Eaze & Alan Licht, a duo so avant-garde they make your favorite experimental band sound like Top 40. Picture this: a night where ambient textures flirt with post-rock crescendos, and drone meets avant-folk in a dimly lit room that feels more like a secret society gathering than a venue. You'll be swept up in a tapestry of sounds so rich, even your coolest friend will be left scrambling for adjectives. Miss this, and you'll be the one asking for blurry iPhone clips while everyone else basks in the afterglow of an unforgettable sonic voyage. Don't say we didn't warn you.

It's time to shake off the ennui of your meticulously curated Spotify playlists and step into the live realm where Buck Meek is set to enchant with his paradoxical blend of ethereal Americana and cosmic storytelling. Known for his role as the wiry guitarist of Big Thief, Meek's solo work spins a tapestry of sound that's as comforting as a thrifted denim jacket yet as unpredictable as a DIY noise show in a hidden Greenpoint loft. Joining him is the enigmatic Kisser, an act shrouded in enough mystery to make even your most obscure Bandcamp find feel mainstream. For a mere $27 advance ($30 if you sleep on it), you'll dive into a night where each chord change and lyric feels like an intimate secret shared among friends—you, the band, and the subtle hum of the amps in the background. Doors at 7, but you knew that already. Don your best worn-in boots and prepare for a night that promises to be as unforgettable as your first cassette mixtape.

Hey, urban warriors and nocturnal creatures of the indie realm, mark your calendars with a Sharpie you stole from a dive bar bathroom—Johnny Thunders Birthday Bash 2026 is about to light up the Bowery Palace like a thunderbolt straight outta CBGB's afterlife. This isn't just a show; it's a pilgrimage for the punk rock faithful, a chance to sway and sweat to the spirit of a New York legend through a lineup so hot it should come with a fire hazard warning.

Kicking off at 7:00 sharp, and curated by the genius triumvirate APFEL/KREBS/SIMONE, the night is a sonic feast featuring garage-rock revolutionaries BASIC BITCHES and the shadowy psych echoes of THE BLACK ANGELS NYC. Prepare for your senses to be overwhelmed by DENSITY BLACK CAT's fuzzed-out riffs and DIANE & THE GENTLE MEN's sultry hooks that will make your pulse quicken like a caffeine overdose.

Slip into something threadbare and ironic because HOLEY SWEATER is gonna unravel your indie heartstrings, while HUDSON CITY RATS injects a feral energy reminiscent of back-alley gigs you wish you could remember. JOY BUZZER's lo-fi charm and MIGHTY JOE CASTRO & THE GRAVAMEN's rockabilly revivalism will keep your spirits high, while SEX FIXX delivers a raw dose of glam-punk that bites harder than your last existential crisis.

With VOODINI conjuring supernatural vibes and Steve Krebs summoning a storm of sounds, all under the watchful eye of DJ TWIG THE WONDERKID and his vinyl sorcery, this lineup is a carte blanche to lose yourself gloriously in the music. Doors open at 6:30, but don't fashionably late yourself into missing a single riff. Trust us, missing out on this is like skipping your own birthday party. See you front and center, or forever regret it.

Clear your calendar and lace up those battered Doc Martens because this lineup is the sonic cocktail your soul’s been thirsting for. Star Card is back from their astral hiatus, ready to blast you into the stratosphere with their ethereal dream-pop anthems that shimmer like a disco ball in hyperspace. Right when you think you’ve safely landed, Balloon Snake slithers in with their psychedelic grooves and neon-bright synth streaks that’ll make your heart race faster than a limited-edition vinyl drop. And just when you need a moment to catch your breath, Anxious Hum will wrap you in their melancholic, lo-fi embrace, whispering secrets of heartbreak and hope into your ear. This isn’t just a gig; it's a pilgrimage. Miss it, and risk hearing about it forever.

When Tomorrow's Problem takes the stage, it feels like stepping into a time machine that crash-landed in a kaleidoscopic future where shoegaze and dream pop reign supreme. These sonic alchemists weave together lush guitar layers and ethereal vocals, creating a soundscape that feels both nostalgic and daringly new. Fresh off their sold-out European tour, they're ready to turn the divey charm of our favorite venue into an astral playground. With a reputation for transcendent live shows and a knack for making ambient soundscapes feel like an urgent call to dance, this is the band your cool cousin in Berlin can't stop raving about. Grab an advance ticket and sidestep the sticky floors; anything less would be a disservice to your eardrums and your street cred. Don't say we didn't warn you when you see the Instagram stories flood in.

Imagine if David Lynch and Sofia Coppola curated a soundtrack together, and you've got Lucius Arthur—a band that's more of an immersive experience than a mere gig. Hailing from the neon-lit corners of dreamscape pop, these sorcerers of sound are set to transform even the most mundane Tuesday night into a cinematic odyssey. Think hazy synth layers, hauntingly beautiful vocals, and a live show that's part performance art, part fever dream. With influences spanning from the ethereal whispers of Beach House to the kaleidoscopic swirls of Tame Impala, Lucius Arthur is what happens when you mix introspective lyrics with dance-your-face-off beats. The buzz is that they've been working on a new set that might just redefine your definition of "genre". So grab your ticket, don your most ironic band tee, and prepare to be catapulted into a world where music and magic are indistinguishable. Miss this, and prepare to hear tales of a night that felt more like an electric prophecy than a concert.

Brace yourselves, cool kids, because tomorrow night’s lineup at Elsewhere is the sonic equivalent of finding an original pressing of "Loveless" in your dad's dusty vinyl stack. First up is Lukka, whose psychedelic dreamscapes are like drifting through a cloud of lavender-scented smoke. Think Tame Impala's cosmic cousin who dropped acid at a Velvet Underground gig. Then, we have Ceylon Sailor, the indie pirates navigating the sea of your subconscious with their hypnotic rhythms and lyrics that read like a lost Murakami novel. Finally, Pepper Fox will set the stage ablaze with a garage-pop punch that hits harder than your tenth playthrough of "Sister Ray." Miss this night, and you'll forever be the one who says, "You had to be there."

If your idea of a rager is more distortion pedals than disco balls, Cold Waves Los Angeles Night 1 is where your soul needs to be. Think of it as a sonic séance summoning the spirit of Factory Records, with a lineup that's a love letter to your leather jacket-wearing, synth-obsessed alter ego. This isn't just a gig; it's a pilgrimage for the sonically adventurous—a communion of darkwave, post-punk, and industrial soundscapes that'll have you questioning your loyalties to any other genre. The echoes of the underground are calling, and this is your chance to bask in the reverb-drenched glow of an unmissable night. Get ready to lose yourself in a haze of smoke machines and strobe lights while some of the scene's most electrifying acts remind you why you're obsessed with the beautifully chaotic dance between analog grit and digital dreams. If you're not there, you're just not living.

Prepare to redefine your Thursday night plans because WILLIS and Boyscott are about to blow the doors off your indie music expectations. Hailing from the land of Southern grooves and drenched in feel-good funk, WILLIS promises a live set that's as infectious as a meme-worthy TikTok but with way more staying power. Their sound is a sun-soaked joyride through the best of retro and modern indie vibes, perfect for that sweet spot between nostalgia and now.

But don't sleep on Boyscott, the lofi-pop savants whose jangly guitars and dreamy vocals craft the kind of sonic landscapes that could soundtrack your coolest daydreams. They're the type of band your vinyl collection wishes it had discovered first. This double bill is the musical equivalent of thrift store gold—unexpected, electrifying, and a secret you’ll want to keep until everyone’s asking how you got so damn cool. Grab your crew, dust off your dancing shoes, and prepare to be sonically baptized in indie bliss.

Clear your calendar, because this Saturday night is set to be a transcendental pilgrimage through the undercurrents of indie brilliance. Rocky Billop is bringing their raw, raspy grit that feels like a love letter to the days when basement shows were the only religion worth following. Then there's Kyra Baskin, the synthpop siren who somehow fuses 80s nostalgia with a futuristic edge, like if Stranger Things and Blade Runner had a musical lovechild.

Slow Loris will be there, too, unraveling their gorgeous sonic tapestries that make you feel like you're floating in a dream woven from equal parts shoegaze shimmer and post-rock melancholy. And just when you think you've hit indie nirvana, HERAHERO will swoop in with their genre-bending chaos—an electrifying blend of hyperpop and punk ethos. Trust us, this lineup is the stuff of legends, the kind of event that will make your future self eternally grateful you left the house. Miss this, and you'll be left wishing you had the hottest time machine back to October 2023.

Dust off your vintage sequins and channel your inner dancing queen because Gimme Gimme Disco is about to throw you into an ABBA-fueled frenzy that'll have your feet aching and your heart soaring. This isn't just a dance party; it's a time machine to a disco inferno where the glitter never settles, and every song is a guilty pleasure you unapologetically scream-sing. Picture this: you're surrounded by a sea of retro dreamers, each one a walking Polaroid of past decades, as the DJ spins vinyl deep cuts and unexpected remixes that make you wish your life had a soundtrack. It's the kind of night where the bass reverberates through your soul, the crowd becomes your new best friend, and you realize that the real Waterloo is missing out on this technicolor euphoria. If your idea of a Saturday night is a cocktail of nostalgia with a twist of future funk, then consider this your RSVP to the most electrifying boogie wonderland of the year.

Mark your calendars and prep your finest thrifted threads because Atta Boy is rolling into town, and this is one sonic happening that your Insta stories can't afford to miss. With doors swinging open at 7 PM, the night promises a melodic tapestry that could make even the most seasoned indie purist nod in approval. Atta Boy’s infectious, heart-on-sleeve anthems are like the soundtrack to those long, introspective walks home after a night that should've ended hours ago, but you were too busy living.

For a mere $22 smackaroos in advance (or $27 if you’re the kind of thrill-seeker who buys at the door), you’re buying into a communion of emotionally resonant lyrics and hooks that could charm the most apathetic of hipsters. This isn't just a gig; it's the kind of intimate, sweat-drenched experience where you might just find your next favorite bass line—and maybe a couple of new friends while you're at it. Consider it the indie scene's best-kept secret, unless you're keen on staying home scrolling through someone else's story of the night you missed.

This Friday night, the cosmos aligns to deliver a triple threat at the heart of indie's underbelly: prat., Headcase, and Nicole Caracost are taking the stage, and if you're not there, you might as well delete your Spotify. Prat. brings a chaotic blend of post-punk energy and art school absurdity, like if Warhol and Ian Curtis had a secret love child. Headcase is set to unravel your mind with their dreamy, distorted shoegaze that feels like getting lost in a Lynchian daydream. And then there's Nicole Caracost, the synthpop sorceress whose ethereal soundscapes are like a neon-lit fever dream you won't want to wake up from. This isn’t just a gig; it’s the kind of night that leaves you buzzed long after the amps cool down. Miss it at your own risk, because Monday's water cooler talk will be all about the sonic magic you could have witnessed.

If your weekend plans don't involve squeezing into a dimly lit venue to catch the sonic alchemy of Jacoozy, it's time to rethink your priorities. This enigmatic quartet, known for their kaleidoscopic soundscapes and lyrics that hit like a late-night epiphany, are back to remind us why we fell in love with the indie scene in the first place. Doors creak open at 9pm, inviting you into a realm where synths shimmer like nocturnal city lights and basslines guide you through a universe where reality blurs. At just $15 in advance (because you’re savvy like that), it's cheaper than your oat milk latte habit and infinitely more soul-nourishing. Don't wait for the "Day of Show" hype—snag your spot now and prepare to bask in the euphoria of a night that promises to be as unforgettable as your first basement show.

Clear your calendar and bust out your best thrifted threads because OFF CAMPUS NIGHT is the dance party your ennui-ridden soul has been craving. This Briar Nation bash is set to transform the dankest dive into an electrifying utopia where every synth drop feels like the first day of summer break. Whether you're a connoisseur of wavy beats or just a sucker for a good groove, this 18+ dance fest is your ticket to transcend the mundane. And don’t fret about accommodations—just grab a General Admission ticket and let the venue work its magic. This night promises to be a sonic odyssey, leaving you twirling under the disco ball long after the last track fades. Don't be the one reading about it the next day; be there to write your own legend.

Imagine this: a night where the pulsating heartbeats of electronic music sync perfectly with your own, set in a dimly lit venue that feels like a secret shared only by those in the know. Anjunadeep is rolling into town, bringing a lineup that reads like a who's who of the deep house cosmos. Picture yourself caught in the ethereal soundscapes of Because of Art, as their beats wrap around you like a warm, fuzzy synth blanket. Then, just when you think you've reached nirvana, Durante and Ezequiel Arias lock into a b2b set that feels like a conversation between two old souls speaking in basslines and breaks.

The night only gets richer as James Grant and Jody Wisternoff take the reins, masters of crafting journeys that feel both intimate and expansive. Marsh steps in with his signature lush soundscapes, painting the night with melodies that hang like constellations in the sonic sky. Romain Garcia and SunrYse wrap up the odyssey, leaving you in a blissful daze as the first hints of dawn start to seep into the room.

This is more than a lineup—it's a moment, an immersion, a scene you want to be a part of before it becomes legend. So dig out your coolest worn-in sneakers, grab your friends who have the best taste in music, and make your way to this sanctuary of sound. Miss this, and you miss out on the soundtrack of the season.

Alright, listen up, scene queens and kings of cool—there’s a seismic event rumbling through the concrete jungle, and it's name is BRESH Party. Think of it as the Studio 54 of our time, but with fewer sequins and more vintage band tees. This is where your favorite indie darlings, TikTok tastemakers, and that effortlessly stylish person you keep seeing on your Insta feed (you know the one) converge for a night that's equal parts dance floor euphoria and underground vibes.

The BRESH Party isn't just an event—it's a rite of passage. An 18+ sanctuary where the beats are as fresh as your latest thrift store find, and the energy is electric enough to power a thousand bedroom synth setups. Trust us, missing this would be like opting out of the last episode of your favorite cult series. So slip on those Doc Martens, and prepare to lose yourself in a sea of kindred spirits who are just as ready as you to transcend the mundane. FOMO? Not if you plan on writing the next chapter of legendary nights.

Clear your calendars and prep your eardrums because this Friday is about to be a sonic pilgrimage to the epicenter of cool. Kicking off at the stroke of 6 PM, Cooking Class is serving up more than just a name—they're dishing out dreamy soundscapes that envelop you like a warm hug from your favorite vintage sweater. Imagine if Beach House and Mac DeMarco had a lovechild who spent their summers at artsy DIY retreats.

Next up, Boris and the Mess are ready to blow your mind like a sonic Jackson Pollock painting. Expect chaotic-yet-controlled riffs layered over pulsating beats that'll have you questioning why you ever went to that other show you don't even remember. These guys and gals are the kind of band that make you wish you'd started your own musical revolution back in college.

And just when you think you’ve reached indie nirvana, Stony Kill will close out the night with their genre-blurring, boundary-pushing alchemy of sound. Imagine Radiohead's existential angst meeting Tame Impala's psychotropic vibes in a dimly lit basement where everyone knows the secret handshake.

Grab your tickets now, because the only thing worse than missing out is realizing you could've been in the front row instead of doomscrolling your ex's Insta stories. Trust us, this is the night your future self will thank you for.

This Friday night, ditch the Netflix binging and prepare yourself for a sonic pilgrimage to the heart of indie Valhalla. Tomboy, Argyres, and Maggie Monaghan are set to detonate your ennui at that underground venue you pretend you've always known about. Tomboy’s riot grrrl revivalism will hit you like a cataclysmic wave of nostalgia and rebellion, while Argyres bring an otherworldly post-punk groove that feels like it was tailor-made for your next late-night existential crisis. And let's not sleep on Maggie Monaghan, the DIY dreamweaver who’s crafting synthpop so ethereal it could make Grimes green with envy. Skip the same-old and dive headfirst into a night of raw energy and transcendent tunes. Trust us—your Instagram story will thank you.

Joe Jackson is back, and he's not just stepping out—he's stepping up. This isn't just another nostalgia trip; it's a sonic pilgrimage for anyone who swears by vinyl warmth and lyrics that cut deeper than your latest existential crisis. You might know him from that playlist you made for your former self, but this gig promises more than a stroll down memory lane. Imagine a setlist that dances between art-pop genius and punk-jazz fusion, delivered with the kind of raw, unfiltered energy that reminds you why live music is still the best antidote for everything digital. It's the kind of show where the guy next to you has more band patches than fabric on his jacket, and you're both nodding along like old friends by the end. Miss this, and you'll be hearing about it from everyone who thought MySpace was peak social media. See you at the front, where the real magic happens.

Brace yourselves, sonic voyagers—Supersonic is crash-landing into your eardrums this Friday, and it’s gonna be a ride. This isn't just a gig; it’s the kind of cosmic convergence that makes your soul vibrate on a subatomic level. Fronted by the celestial lovechild of Bowie and a cyberpunk oracle, Supersonic is here to shatter the boundaries of what you thought live music could do. Expect an odyssey through soundscapes where shoegaze kisses synthwave under a canopy of pulsating strobe lights. Rumor has it the bassist has been dabbling in witchcraft, so who knows what kind of otherworldly energies will be conjured up in that intimate dive bar setting. Miss this, and you'll be stuck scrolling through shaky Instagram stories wishing you were there. Don't say we didn't warn you.

Clear your Friday night plans and dive into the sonic whirlpool at The Front Desk's gig with Bad Head—a show guaranteed to make your week feel like an opening act. The Front Desk, those purveyors of raw, melodic introspection, are back from their latest voyage through the reverb galaxy, bringing tunes that feel like a shared secret between your heart and the dance floor. Joining them are Bad Head, the synth-wielding wizards known for crafting the kind of grooves that blur the line between reality and that dream you had after a late-night deep dive into your vinyl collection.

Doors creak open at 9pm, and while you could play it cool and snag a $12 advance ticket, there's something thrilling about deciding at the last minute to show up and commit to the $15 day-of-show experience. It’s a small price to pay for what promises to be an unforgettable journey through sound, sweat, and maybe even a little bit of self-discovery. So, summon your crew, don your favorite thrift store find, and step into a night where the only rule is to lose yourself in the music.

This Friday night, the undercurrents of cool converge at a spot so underground it practically has its own secret handshake. Talk Bazaar is set to redefine your perception of psych-rock with their kaleidoscopic riffs and hypnotic rhythms that feel like they wandered out of a 4D dreamscape. Panther Hollow, masters of the shoegaze spell, will wrap you in a sound blanket of reverb and introspection, making you question every life choice in the best way possible. Isabel Shaye's ethereal vocals are the siren call you didn’t know you needed, weaving tales of love, loss, and late-night adventures over lush synth landscapes. And somewhere in the basement, DJ bbberty is spinning tracks that will make you forget what year it is—let alone what planet. This is the night to lose yourself in the music, find yourself in the crowd, and maybe even stumble into your next existential crisis. Don't just hear about it after; be the one who makes others wish they had been there.

Clear your calendar and charge your burner phone, because you're not going to want to miss this sonic soiree that promises to redefine your weekend plans. Vivienne Artur, the chanteuse of the cosmic underground, is teaming up with Reese Nobile, the enigmatic synth wizard who practically invented the art of making you dance and cry simultaneously. Add Cohle Smith to the mix, the guitar alchemist whose riffs are like a shot of espresso for your soul, and you've got a trio that's ready to send shoegaze shockwaves through your indie-hardened heart. This isn't just a show—it's an initiation into a world where the lines between reality and rhythm blur beautifully. Think of it as the musical equivalent of finding a vintage leather jacket at Beacon's Closet that fits you like a glove. Meet us there and prepare to have your mind expanded—if you can handle the high-frequency coolness.

Picture this: a sweaty, nostalgia-drenched mosh pit where your favorite pair of scuffed Doc Martens feels right at home. The Frights are back, celebrating a decade of their delightfully chaotic debut, "YOU ARE GOING TO HATE THIS," and the anniversary tour promises the kind of raw, unfiltered energy that could make even the most aloof hipster crack a smile. This is your chance to relive that gritty, garage-rock glory with a crowd that'll scream every lyric back at Mikey Carnevale like it's their anthem. Whether you're a die-hard fan with a vintage band tee or a curious soul looking to taste the sweet chaos of surf-punk for the first time, this is the gig that'll remind you why you fell in love with music in the first place. Tickets are a steal at $27.50 in advance, and while you could wait and risk paying $32.50 at the door, we both know you'd hate to be the one stuck outside as the bassline shakes the venue to its core. Get there when the doors open at 7pm and prepare to have your mind—and your eardrums—blown.

Dive headfirst into the kaleidoscopic soundscapes of Tounds, the band that's been quietly whispering their way into the DNA of every underground playlist worth a damn. Catch them before they explode out of the Brooklyn bubble at their upcoming gig, where synths shimmer like a mirage and vocals drip with the kind of raw emotion that leaves you reeling for days. With doors creaking open at 8pm, you'll want to grab your spot on the sticky floor early—trust us, the energy in the room will be electric enough to power the subway. Advanced tickets are $17, so snag them while they’re still cheaper than your favorite oat milk latte. Show up day-of with $20 and a glint of spontaneity in your eye. This is the night you’ll be reminiscing about, the soundtrack to your late-night walks and introspective subway rides, so don’t let this one slip by. Tounds is the kind of band that makes you feel seen in a crowd—and we promise, they’ll remind you why you fell in love with live music in the first place.

If you've ever found yourself yearning for the raw energy of a basement show combined with the ethereal vibes of a dream pop celestial voyage, then missing Kianna's upcoming gig would be the ultimate faux pas. This enigmatic ensemble has been brewing a sonic storm that's part shoegaze reverie, part synthpop euphoria. Imagine a sound that feels like Slowdive and Grimes had a lovechild raised on a diet of revolutionary zines and late-night rooftop musings. The talk of every secret club and whisper network, Kianna is the band your future self will brag about seeing before they inevitably headline every festival worth mentioning. So grab your best ironic band tee, dust off those Doc Martens, and prepare for a night that promises to be nothing short of transcendental. Miss it, and risk spending the next month dodging that relentless FOMO.

Cancel your plans and prepare to be baptized in sound, because this Friday night, the holy trinity of indie cool descends upon your local dive. Most Modern is set to unleash their post-punk revival like a velvet hurricane, with guitar riffs that slice through the air like a nihilistic love letter. If you've been numbed by the mundane, In A Darkened Room is your antidote, weaving shoegaze dreams that feel like a slow dance on the edge of oblivion. And then there's None Shall Remain—think synthpop with the heart of a rebel poet, ready to seduce your ears and steal your existential dread. This isn't just a gig; it's a rite of passage into the underbelly of indie transcendence. Miss it at your own risk.

Katie DeMartini is about to recalibrate your Friday night with a sonic tapestry woven from the threads of synth nostalgia and gritty, unapologetic lyricism. If your Spotify has been looking a little too predictable lately, consider this your antidote. She’s the kind of artist who makes you question how you ever lived without her brooding, yet strangely uplifting, soundscapes. Think of her as the lovechild of early St. Vincent and your favorite underground electronic act that only plays pop-up shows. The venue will be buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes around when a rising star is on the brink of flipping the indie scene on its head. Trust us, your future self will thank you for snagging that $15 advance ticket—and your Instagram will thank you for the story cred. Doors swing open at 6pm, but be there early to claim your spot and soak in the pre-show anticipation. Don’t let this moment slip into the FOMO abyss—Katie DeMartini is a happening, not just a gig.

Get ready to abandon your Wednesday night ennui and dive headfirst into the chaotic symphony of sound that only Dead Waiter can deliver. These post-punk prodigies are set to redefine your concept of a live show, teetering on the edge of an existential meltdown with their industrial-strength riffs and hypnotic rhythms. But wait, there's more—a sonic explosion in the form of Pants Exploder hits the stage, promising to blow your mind and your speakers with their audacious garage rock grit. And let's not forget Shearing, the indie darlings with a penchant for crafting dreamscapes that shimmer and slice through the noise. It's a triple threat lineup that screams "miss this and regret it eternally." Doors creak open at 9 PM; snag those advance tickets for $17 and thank us later. You've never been this stoked to stop doomscrolling.

If you're not at Baby's All Right this Friday, you're seriously missing out on the kind of euphoria that only a Valley Flower set can deliver. These dream-pop dynamos have been quietly crafting some of the most ethereal soundscapes this side of Cocteau Twins, and they're about to turn the local scene into their own shimmering realm. With Aiden Intro opening the night with his brooding, synth-laden introspections, expect to be enveloped in waves of reverb and existential groove. It's not just a gig; it's a transcendental experience that could very well define your month. Doors swing open at 6 pm—leave your ennui at the door and embrace the sonic bliss for just 15 bucks. See you there, or see it all over your feed and wish you were.