I usually don't post live reviews. But you missed a hidden gem buried below the snow and cold last night, just passed midnight, on a Monday. Randy Chabot, a pale young Michigan man of average height and scruffy black hair, jumped on stage at The Frequency and opened his bag of goodies. First a white plastic Tiger from Target where his bassist was stuck working Black Thursday weekend, then a Poltergeist DVD, then glow sticks for everyone, and then one of the most honest and energetic DIY sets I've seen in Madison. Under the playful name Deastro, Randy releases albums with relevance that the Killers have been unable to find and with none of their budget. His songs turn small rooms into epic arenas without losing any intimacy. Each is sweaty like the Woodhands, adventurous like MGMT, and homemade like CocoRosie. And all are crafted passionately from a computer, broad samples, and the creativity of this authentic 23-year-old soul. He swings his hair because Popeye's chicken isn't real, he dances by jumping like he's trying to touch the ceiling, he writes songs because he wants to share them with you. In a world that sounds like this, there is no reason to live alone.