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Speak of the devil, Mike Doughty is making an appearance at the Barnes and Noble at Union Square tonight. I will probably go like the 31-year-old, button down shirt wearing, occasionally Starbucks swilling groupie that I am.

I listened to his new album this morning on my commute to work. I would say that it’s catchy stuff, with the caveat that I know nothing about musical theory or bass lines or those semi-repetitive riffs that I like to call “jazzic.” One thing about Mike Doughty is that he will use delightfully unexpected words like “ampersand,” “Ronkonkoma,” and “stevedore,” but then he’ll pull a Paul McCartney and spend the rest of the song building on variations of “Ring dinga dinga ring brrmbpdpdmdm na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na.”

Not that it’s unenjoyable, but it kind of undermines my confidence in myself as a listener of music.

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