THE DIP
SUNDAY 4/14. THE HALL. 8 P.M. $25-$40.
Back in my restaurant days, a co-worker put on The Dip’s self-titled debut album one day while we were closing up shop. I’d never heard of them, but it didn’t matter. At the start of every new track, I was instantly compelled to bounce along to the groove and stretchy vocal lines, the once boring task of mopping the floor now animated with weightless vigor by way of an absurdly tight Seattle-based seven-piece band (featuring standard rock instrumentation plus trumpet and two saxophones) borrowing from pop, doo-wop, Motown, R&B and soul without ever skipping a beat. As I dug further into their discography, I discovered that they’re seemingly incapable of writing a song that isn’t at least a little bit stank face-inducing. If you want to prepare for the show, I’d recommend you check out “Sure Don’t Miss You” and “Ain’t Necessary (The Prince),” but you’re probably just as well off going in blind. Get tickets here.
