TIGER BALM
Where better to dig into Protomartyr's introspective new album than at a ballgame? (Anywhere.)
September 1, 2023
No one wants to be here less than Joe Casey.
And by “here,” I mean the Blue Moon-sponsored room at Comerica Park stadium, where 45 people are drinking $13 draft beers and carrying around greasy paper plates topped with Little Caesars pizza, about to listen to Protomartyr’s latest record via someone’s iPhone—an album about loss, extinction, nicotine gum, the occasional Baja Blast, and the belief that love is to be earned and not served freely like, well, shitty complimentary pizza.
