Don't save all the "dancy chick tunes" for the last set. If the ladies aren't up dancing you're left with a sausage fest, and the dudes don't wanna dance with themselves to summer of 69, wanted dead or alive or got you where i want you. Need to save some heavy rockin' stuff for exactly this scenario. A half decent recovery was made when we pulled out some alice in chains and some old g n'r, and then finished with the big jam on new orleans is sinking, which some dude had been yelling for since the middle of the second set, complete with Lou's signature bits of ice ice baby, i like big butts and roadhouse blues. It all fades to distant memory when you get paid, and you set your sights once again on the following saturday, with visions of sugar plums dancing in your head, or on the dance floor, which would be preferred.

p.s. - Go Raiders!!