Lazy Sunday haze seeped through circumvallate pane. Showtime seemed everything but. Javelin and Jamaican Queens were scheduled to perform at eight. New Parish’s hallowed walls ached, hollered for bodies to enter its hollow hall. As the magic hour eclipsed, the static domain was a far cry from the neighboring Fox Theater, teeming with tacky teens. By 8:26, the promise of a show remained questionable as sparkling funsters trickled into the openness.
Nine — in a resounding, defiant, Deutschy “no” — finally bore revelry en masse.
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