The Recher Theater in Towson is a terrible, terrible venue. Parking sucks, the bouncers are meatheads (professional meathead, though), and they sell mini-bottles of water for $2.50 instead of giving away free plastic cups the way every decent club in the world does. Lately they've changed their booking habits; instead of third-rate jam bands and reunited 80s metal scrubs (though they still get a lot of those), we get a whole lot of O.C.-sountrack bands like Phantom Planet, which I suppose is cool. But every time I go there, I wander around for a while wondering what I'm doing there.

Last night, I went to the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club/Rapture/Starlite Desperation show there. Bridget didn't want to go, so I went by myself. I hadn't eaten and it was $16, but I still hurried into the show because I didn't want to miss the Rapture, my sole reason for going. I ended up being early. The Starlite Desperation, who I'd never heard of, was just terrible, one more weak-ass garage-rock band. No one needs that shit. And so until the Rapture came out, I wandered around all miserable, wondering what I was doing there. I didn't know anyone there, I didn't have any food in me, and I wasn't about to buy a $5 beer.

Only a great band can make me happy in a situation like that. The Rapture is a great band. They were outrageously, apocalyptically hot. They're better than any of these dance-punk bands, and I love these dance-punk bands, but they're better. Better than Radio 4, better than Franz Ferdinand, better than !!!, better than Out Hud, better than the Liars (first album Liars). Better than Le Tigre, OK? They're like the last two Primal Scream albums, except with no obnoxious garage-rock influence and not even a little bit annoying. That's how good they are. They bulldoze. They played some unreleased stuff that found a groove even deeper than the one they've been working, and they put new, ridiculous spins on album tracks. "Sister Savior" was all "real" instruments, "I Need Your Love" had a serious Detroit techno reworking, "Open Up Your Heart" sounded like the prom slow-dance jam it was probably intended to be in the first place. Some of my friends showed up, people got down, everything was gravy.

Luke Jenner was wandering around aimlessly in the crowd for a little while after their set, and I talked to him for a minute, making a babbling idiot out of myself while making fun of the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club for some reason. I hate talking with famous people; I always make an ass of myself. But he told me that the Rapture might be working with Timbaland. Marinate on that for a minute. That's what we call a dream collaboration. If it comes out, heads will be blown.