Cold Weather, Hot Dance Moves
Review of: Girl Talk, Dan Deacon, Lord of the Yum Yum
Walking through the cold Chicago weather, and wondering when the line into the Metro would shorten, I found myself a bit nervous. I was terribly excited for the Girl Talk extravaganza that was before me and all I could think about was how I couldn’t feel my toes. My friends and I wait in the ridiculously cold (my guess is below 0) weather in order to enter the Metro, in downtown Chicago Illinois. The line for the coat check was just as long and frustrating as we walked through the large wooden doors and heard the faint playing of a beat box. After quenching our thirst for water and diet coke (and rum in my case), we landed ourselves in the front row for The Lord of the Yum Yum. An awkward looking man in a 1980’s prom suit, beat boxing into the microphone, and looping it through his foot pedals. He was absolutely brilliant. He knew the exact timing of every noise that came from his lips, every point in his seemingly random vocal play, and every aspect of his vocal capability. He ended his set with an “musical interpretation” of the scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where the high priest takes the heart from the mans chest, and it was an amazing feat, let me tell you. Lord Yum Yum looped the chanting as well as his heartbeat over the sound system, providing the audience with an abrupt choir of temple dwellers on stage. He also encouraged his own encore, by looping “YUM YUM!” and running off stage, then immediately running back on stage for the encore. It was hilarious, and an excellent way to begin the evening.
Next up was Dan Deacon. The audience eagerly awaited his walking onto the stage to begin his set, but were pleasantly surprised when a voice rang out over the amps and speakers, and a projector showed Deacon smack dab in the middle of the audience. The dance music immediately hit the ears of the unsuspecting crowd. Beats ranging from what I assume to be “hardcore” techno to “smooth dancing” techno was urging the young audience to dance and move to Deacon’s expertly crafted set. His appearance in the middle of the audience was classic, and created a sense of equality and anarchy at the same time. The crowd did get a bit rowdy in all the excitement though. A giant neon green skull was hanging above Deacon, glowing with his music, and an audience member smacked it down. Two minutes later Deacon yelled, “Don’t shoot that silly string shit, that’s a stupid thing to do!” over the tone of his music as an audience member shot him with silly string. It was overcrowded, way too loud, hot and sweaty, and fucking amazing.
Then it was time. Time for the Girl Talk set. Standing in the front row, I was overly energized and ready to dance forever. The stage hand walked out, grabbed the microphone, and recited a poem he had written about Girl Talk, and the crowd cheered in excitement. Out came the man himself, and immediately began the dance music. The crowd went crazy when the security guards started to let people on stage with Girl Talk to dance. I found myself being pushed towards the stairs, and as I stepped up to join the stage party, two people pushed up against me from both sides… “this is insane” I thought to myself. The security guard reached down to help me as I took both arms out to my side and fell back on the two jerks with all my weight. They fell back, and as the security guard grabbed my hand, he looked at me in a kind of shocked proud way. The way your mother does when you take out the garbage with out her asking you to. The show raged on until two in the morning. The entire crowd was soaking wet with sweat, and still dancing by the time Girl Talk ripped off his shirt and demanded everyone sing with the encore. It was a great show.
Besides the fact that my shirt/jacket/skirt all froze as soon as I walked out the door of the Metro in Chicago, I had one of the best dance nights of my life. Yelling for the cab on the side walk I thought to myself, “Man, I could have been killed by dancing… I could have died from dancing too hard. But I didn’t. I didn’t.”
Concert Review by - Hanna Dillon
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