Date: 4/4/07
Location: Spot 6
Show: The Freeform Shuffle with Gypsy Feelings/Chew on This, Protman, and DJs Scrabblor and Rotten Milk
Cost: Free
Drinks: Expensive
Things I missed to be there: Fuck The Facts, La Armada, Moral Decay at Crown Liquors/Club Azucar
Reason I went: The night wasn't over yet.
The titty show started late and ended early, so as a barely-employed loser who spends all of the sunlit hours sleeping, blogging, and jerking off, I had plenty of time to rock out when Brandon and Kelsey dropped me off at the Red Line, so long as I could do it on the cheap. This brought me to my old standby, The Freeform Shuffle.
I like this spot for reasons that might not translate to an audience that isn't me. I can often get a free drink or two and there are a few girls who'll bump and grind on me if I'm in the mood to dance. Other than that, the show is a crapshoot. Booked and hosted by two noise artists, one of whom likes hiphop and another who likes goth shit, it's anyone's guess what you're gonna hear one week to the next. Today's show wasn't hosted by either one, but by Rotten Milk, another noise guy who's been spinning a lot of house and juke lately, and that's what he played in a tag team set with Scrabblor.
If there were more people there, the place would have been bumping, but with just a small crowd, there were only a few regulars poppin' under the dj booth. After Rmizzy and Scrabblor were finished. Chew on This took over. Chew on This is Ossian from Gypsy Feelings rapping solo, and dancing like an overgrown child. He didn't look like someone you'd get some good hip hop out of, but he was, at least he was when you could hear it (it was that common problem where no one seems to understand how to mix live hiphop vocals). His beats were good but he seemed new to them. A few times in a row, the track ended before the song did, so he just stopped.
It was time for Protman (laptop artist and Life During Wartime DJ extraordinaire), to reclaim his laptop and take the stage. For the first half of his set, he made beats with a videogame controller while Chew on This freestyled over them. The only line I remember was calling me out for taking too many pictures:
Stop flashing lights/You fucking photographers/Keep it up/ And you'll be hanging from the rafters!
When Protman took the helm altogether, it was real tight. It was dance music that faded easily behind conversation, but hung in the air, unobtrusively, for anyone who wanted to dance. The night petered off awkwardly. My ride said she was leaving, but didn't, so I sat there in ready-to-go mode, while my friend Mister Fuckhead closed the night out with silly songs about mummies and beer.
No comments:
Post a Comment