… in which American Graffiti meets High Fidelity meets Annie Hall meets Hair meets After Hours: A group of New Jersey kids, high on music, lust and an unspoken but positively tribal sense of kinship, spend the night running around a Manhattan so romanticized that you park in front of the door at a hot club show; Electric Ladyland is the setting for not an orgy but rather what I guess would be the first great filmed emo sex scene; and a Port Authority toilet gross-out becomes a gentle, blissfully detoxified ongoing joke. The movie’s main concern is a meditation on Keatsian aesthetics: Is there anything in the world more important than a secret show by your favorite band?