Wow. Great, great show. Empty Bottle is kind of my own personal version of Hell, the most smoke-filled, cram-packed, claustrophobic, basement-like concert venue on earth. (I want to burn the clothes I wore. I took a 40-minute shower when I got home, trying to scrub the smoke out of my skin.) For you New Yorker, it makes the Mercury Lounge feel like Madison Square Garden.

But the low ceiling and the packed crowd and the proximity of the stage can make it a very intimate show if the band has the skills to take advantage of it: Athlete certainly does.

Lead singer really connected with the audience. Band sounded great. Anthemic and emotional and heart pounding and connected. Solid rock. Not quirky and not pop-y and not sparse. But deep, thick, rich.

Who would I compare them to if you don’t know them? Hmm.. If you like Snow Patrol, you should be listening to Athlete. If you were an Oasis fan back, back in the day, you should be listening to Athlete. Love them, love their latest album, loved their previous albums, loved this show.

But damn, motherfuckers, when the headliner doesn’t start until around 11:30, we’re talking a seriously sleepy Carolyn on the way home. Destroyed by a concert. I’m so fucking old.