They Might Be Giants w/Jonathan Coulton, Eugene Mirman & Pretty Good Friends
Williamsburg Waterfront
Friday, July 29

Better than: Funny you should ask.

Around the 30-minute mark of the the heavens' continued urination on the gathered masses at the Williamsburg Waterfront on Friday, comedian Todd Barry looked out to his soaked audience and asked in a voice filled with his usual jaded mischief: "Isn't this so much better than paying $15 to be inside?" Well, no. From where I sat near the front there was plenty of groaning, especially when the rainstorm started up again after a brief dry interlude, but few people actually left. Whether the assembled thought they could tough it out or were just that into They Might Be Giants is a question only they could answer, although based on the amount of Giants t-shirts and other paraphernalia—one dude straight-up came ready to LARP, rubber sword and shield and everything—spotted in the crowd, it's clear that the band's fanbase is a devoted one. Truly, there is no deeper bond in the universe than the bond formed between nerd and their formative talismans of nerd-dom.

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That's Flansburgh on the right

​John Flansburgh stands as the younger, more bespectacled half of They Might Be Giants, a Brooklyn-by-way-of-Boston band he has been playing in for more than half his life (Their latest album is Here Comes Science, their fourth children's album and 14th or so studio album overall.) Flansburgh turns 50 years old today; one week ago, when he was still 49, he shared some of the wisdom and waste he's picked up along the long, long way. Here are some of his thoughts.

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They Might Be Giants
American Museum of Natural History
Sunday, October 4

The best thing about TMBG's second career as top-shelf purveyors of children's music is how little their onstage demeanor has changed -- they favor a sardonic, half-asleep, deadpan manner whether most of the folks in the front row are 3 years old or 30. Today (2 p.m.! And the first show was at 11 a.m.!) that means lotsa jokes about the enormous whale suspended over our heads, in what the Johns Flansburgh and Linnell eventually correctly identify as the Hall of Ocean Life. Whale jokes are big today. And confetti. And balloon animals. And bright yellow foam hands. And songs called "Clap Your Hands," "Where Do They Make Balloons?", "Pirate Girls Nine," and "Bed Bed Bed." ("Bed Bed Bed" is particularly awesome.) And bumper stickers, though Flansburgh warns us not to stick them on our faces. There was probably an incident at an earlier show. Might've been a 3-year-old. Might've just as easily been a 30-year-old.

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A splendidly busy weekend for outdoor shows is in the offing: Calle 13 at Central Park Summerstage, Mission of Burma/Fucked Up at the Williamsburg Waterfront, etc. But those of you with young, impressionable offspring not yet mature enough to handle reggaeton or profane band names might want to opt for Saturday afternoon's youngin-friendly Celebrate Brooklyn! fete with They Might Be Giants. Our love for this band is well-established, and let it be known that the highlights of their new children's-music phase are basically indistinguishible from their adults-only jams. Request "Seven."

To get you in the mood, here's friend-of-SOTC Peter S. Scholtes interviewing TMBG co-conspirator John Flansburgh twice: once for adults, and once for kids. The latter is brief but still hilarious: Finally, the proper venue to open an interview with "What is your favorite number, and why?"