Last Night: Girl Talk At Verizon Wireless Theater
For more photos from last night's Girl Talk show, check out our slideshow.
Girl Talk is a DJ that is ostensibly famous for wearing a headband, but is actually famous for his ability to sew together various songs from various genres seamlessly and fruitfully. Typically, our reviews read as a present time play sheet of the concert, with time stamps noting what is happening and when. This, however, does not seem necessary at a Girl Talk show for two reasons:
1. Once he becomes kinetic energy, there is no concept of time, let alone measurement. There is only mayhem around, and there's barely a measurement of that. The entire show is like one long closing number, perpetually frenetic and unyielding.
Keeping track of time here feels akin to keeping track of time in the darkest corner of outer space (which we have not been to, FYI). So, in kind, the time stamps below will not make any sense. They will all begin with an arbitrary "12:28 a.m.," even though the show will actually begin at 9:13 p.m. and end at 10:44 p.m. This concert very well may be the most perfect operational example of existentialism of all time.
2. Also, our phone crapped out and that's where we take notes at a show. Here we go:
12:28 a.m.: The crowd tonight, as expected, is mostly white and mostly young. The thing that seems most pressing at the moment is the attire. Lots of folks here are dressed like they're either about to play in a really ironic game of basketball or are planning on going jogging immediately after the show and are trying to not get hit by a car.
It's unclear as to whether or not they're dressed that way because they actually think it's cool (it's not) or because they're being incongruous (it kind of is, but not in this setting, so that's probably not right.
12:28 a.m.: Lights go off. People go apeshit.
12:28 a.m.: "GIRL TALK! GIRL TALK! GIRL TALK!"
12:28 a.m.: Girl Talk is onstage. Curious to see which two songs he weaves together first. It will be telling of the way the show will play out, we imagine.
12:28 a.m.: Ah, Black Sabbath's "War Pigs" and Ludacris's "Move, Bitch." It will be a good show, it seems.
12:28 a.m: Hey, remember Lil' Jon? That's who's being played right now. It's the song where he screams over and over again, "Don't start no shit, there won't be no shit." That, as grammatically incorrect as it is, is really an airtight piece of advice. Was he a genius?
12:28 a.m.: Strobe lights are going, big inflatable balls full of confetti are being batted around, kids are in convulsion, Girl Talk looks like lightning bolts might shoot from his ears at any moment --this is pretty bananas. After a while, it gets kind of hard not to appreciate what it is he does (and what it is he allows his fans to do).
It's just hard to pick apart a guy that works as hard as he does or a group of people who, obnoxious as they certainly could be, are solely intent on having a good time. It's not traditionally cool what's going on here, but it's traditionally awesome.
12:28 a.m.: Thing that was just said to us by a guy whose smile we enjoy: "There's not enough weed smoke here for you to be covering this show."
12:28 a.m.: There are a couple of really neat moments during the show (the toilet paper guns are never not fun), but the best of those is when the lights on the stage are mostly dark and you're left looking only at Girl Talk's face (there's a light from the underside that shines on him at all times) and the outline of the hundred or so kids on stage going apoplectic. It's like he's a wizard controlling a bunch of dance-crazed zombies or something. Or something.