I went down to the Crocodile to photograph WU LYF, but didn’t come away with much, buried as I was under the armpit of a great horse of a girl who was, as another concert attendee noted, “tripping balls.” She blasted her way through a packed crowd a few times, rooting me off the stagefront like an O-lineman, then staring with feral fascination at the lights, clawing dreamily at the colors. This seemed right for a Wu Lyf show, where you can sing along to “Spitting Blood.” Continue reading WU LYF in the Teeth of the Crocodile