It’s true that New York is known for its parties—fabulous nights of dressing to impress, followed immediately by staring at one another over a glass of branded vodka while acting thoroughly unimpressed (or in some cases, thoroughly overly impressed) by another’s outfit/name/nose job. Which is why I always like to take a nightlife retreat to a concert venue, a curated event consisting of both socialites and social-lowers who look impressed or unimpressed with good reason. Last night, my music-themed outing took me to the cavernous Terminal 5 to gauge an impression of the U.K. band Switches. The band opened for veteran outfit The Bravery, and brought out a rather eclectic mix of admirers. The Wall Street crew got off just in time to down vodka tonics and mix with skinny teen boys with better hair than me. A few girls in braces debated the authenticity of a writer’s Chloé bag before relinquishing their argument to ear-piercing screams as Switches took the stage. (Their carefully worded verdict, last I heard: “Faker than Blake Lively’s dye job”).