We Both Have Red Hair... We Both Like Music...

I was in Philly last weekend at the Trocadero to see the magical Kate Nash.

The Troc is a weird place.

Old people would sort of look around and talk about the majesty of the building, the gothic architecture, the dreamy, atmospheric vibe translated through the dimmed lighting, fake candles, balconies and drapes.

I thought it was kind of creepy. And shit kept falling from the ceiling, looked like flakes of asbestos. The area in front of the stage is round (strange), with support beams for an overhanging balcony towards the back.

And the swanky, suggestive lighting... I felt like such a piece of meat.

Anyway, The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players opened up for Ms. Nash.

I consider myself a fairly open-minded guy. But I have no idea what the hell is wrong with the Trachtenburg Family.

The band is made up of three non-related members playing the parts of a family. The drummer is a 14-year-old girl named Rachel. The "mother" operates a slideshow while "daddy" plays guitar and keyboard.

The band takes photo albums from the 1960s, '70s, and writes songs based on these pictures of random strangers. Then, while playing live, the slideshow matches up with the lyrics in the song.

And the lyrics are quite literal. If we see a picture of a fish, we're hearing a fish lyric.

I have no idea what the hell is wrong with the Trachtenburg Family.

I guess this is art, right? Like, if I ever wanted to look smart in front of someone, a future employer, a scientist, a foreign dignitary, I absolutely plan on casually mentioning I listen to the Trachtenburg Family.

And then I casually plan on accepting their kudos.

Here's "Look at Me" by The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players and "Pigeons" by the girl-wonder drummer, Rachel T.

Now, on to the main course.

Ms. Nash was divatastic.

With her name backlit in shiny, pink plastic bulbs, Ms. Nash made the crowd wait upward of 45 minutes while one single, solitary, lone, individual tech tuned the instruments.

All of the instruments.

I have been to a ton of shows and I've never seen anything like this. This dude tested everything. He tuned four guitars, a bass, the drums, all of the respective mics. He sound checked the piano, used a giant pole with a hook on the end to mess with the lights.

He didn't hustle. Or ask for help.

And I totally imagined Ms. Nash in the wings watching him with a bottle of champagne and a fur coat made out of dalmatians like "Work is so hard."

But enough of that! "Stop in the Name of Love" by Diana Ross and the Supremes finally coaxed Ms. Nash from hiding.

She's cute. And pretty. I was in love.

Ms. Nash toured most of her cross-the-pond hit, Made of Bricks. Fan favorites "Foundations" and "Mouthwash" sounded inspired, bubbly and fully realized, with Ms. Nash banging away at her piano and bouncing to the beat.

The jazzy, spoken-word smacktalk of "Dickhead" was dedicated to the random ex-boyfriend of a drunk girl near the front of the stage.

"Mariella" swelled from march to madness as the crowd, composed mostly of couples (date movie meet date music) surged to the name-based chorus.

I especially enjoyed some of the evening's more poignant moments. "Nicest Thing" and "Birds" sounded gorgeous, with Ms. Nash front and center on acoustic guitar, vulnerable to ghosts and should have/could have love.

Made of Bricks is very much a showing of range. "Pumpkin Soup" and "Merry Happy" had the Troc bumping right along.

"We Get On" is a whole different get on. Ms. Nash asked us a couple of times during the night to quiet ourselves while she strummed the opening chords of a soft song.

It didn't feel like a diva thing to do. It was just really nice.