I am vast, I contain multitudes. At least, that’s how I feel at rock clubs these days. I saw They Might Be Giants at the 9:30 Club on Saturday night. Excellent show; I think the stuff the Johns are doing with the Band of Dans these days is among the best work of their career. But going to the 9:30 Club is increasingly an ordeal — standing in cramped confines for hours on end, straining to see over all the people who seem to be at least a foot taller than me (who always seem to stand directly in front of me, and when I try to crane my head right to see around them, they simultaneously bob to the right; no better luck to the left). Not to mention all the smoking and beer drinking that detract from the experience in subtle and not-so-subtle ways . . . The great music sustains me, but it’s a trade-off that’s not always worthwhile these days.

I much prefer seeing shows at places like the Birchmere now, where I can sit down, order some ribs and hear some amazing live music all in one nice opportunity set with only a few drawbacks (like waiters constantly wandering the aisles). And it’s only a few blocks away from my new apartment. Adrian Belew was sick tonight, so they chopped $20 off the price of the ticket and ProjeKct Three played instead — Robert Fripp on guitar, Trey Gunn on Warr guitar, and Pat Mastelotto on percussion. I didn’t get to see ProjeKct Three when they “toured,” so this was worth the price of the original ticket, discount aside. Mostly improv, a couple of familiar pieces, and a long Q&A session after the show — it’s the first time I’ve seen these guys in a venue intimate enough to make spoken interaction with the audience feasible.

I hope Adrian feels better tomorrow, because I’ll be back again and I’d love to hear the new Krimson repertoire live. But if he’s still sick, I’ll be digging the show anyway.

I grow old . . . but I’ve been wearing the bottoms of my trousers rolled since high school.