It was a long hot trudge with the rest up the hill at Los Feliz for the sold-out show at the Greek. Fortunately, the slog was accompanied by glass-canyon echos of the Breeders going off in bravura style. Standing dutifully at will-call for what I was assured was the last available ticket for the show, my ears were pricked by bawling from some impish young girl, praying someone, ANYone, sell her a ticket. Finding at the window a miraculous two ducats for the show (after Interscope’s assurances merely one amounted to an act of God), I slipped the other into her hand, holding a palm up signifying “gratis” and almost outran the ensuing squeals of gratitude. That moment was appropriately cool as the Kim Deal now yelling goodnights the onetime Pixies’ bassist shouted and her other legendary band drove lustily into the finale. The crowd detonation for the raffish alt-rock notables was as if they’d just headlined. I climbed to my chair in the mid-nosebleeds, kicked some jabbering slacker out of my seat before settling in for a long wait with a Fritz Leiber paperback. A 4/20 break just before the top of the bill put my seat beyond reach as the lights went down and I spent too much of The Yeah Yeah Yeah’s long, superlative set cheerfully insulting pimply event staff informing me I couldn’t stand on the spot I occupied, yet not one offering a flashlight to find my chair in the murk. Still, I can report Karen O. has matured into one of this-minute rock’s most affecting performers- a life-battered, kohl-eyed waif with an almost frightening emotional range in her cooing and choked syllables. They had the audience with them all the way, from the rambunctious opening through a confetti snowstorm to the coup de theatre at the end when the giant floating eyeballs were let loose. One final whoop with the anthemic “Date with the Night” and it was all over but the sweating and reaching for the car keys.

—Ron Garmon