After three days of dreary drizzle, the mist dissipated enough to allow a dry ride to Urban. Without fenders, a day in the rain can wreak havoc on the crotch of your pants, so I was more than thankful to arrive without a faux diaper-leak. I walked past two impenetrable piles of bikes and found a rack with just enough room to squeeze in. The line was impressively short, made advantageous by the fact that it was about to spill into the street, and promoted a brisk arrival inside, followed by a sudden and intense yearning to be back out.
Oscillator Bug was halfway through his first song when I entered the main room. Mic draped around his neck, he whipped back and forth, arms crunched like a T-Rex, and turned seemingly random knobs on his mixer. Intermittently, a synth would cut in with intense chordage, forming a wall of sound. Screeching electric notes, much like a dial-up login fortissimo, cut into my ear drums and began melting my auditory cortex. I pawed at my ears with squinted eyes and attempted to focus on the mini light show dribbling across the stage back. The LEDs couldn't keep my focus long enough to distract from a second set of massive and unnecessary sub-woofers being hauled onto stage. Mid-set, The Hood Internet assumed, for some reason, that the crowd wanted the cacophony to deafen them. Approximately seven people were dancing up front when the incessant thump-thump and repetitive robot screams subsided. I happily escaped outside and committed the next three minutes to releasing the tension I had just created in my shoulder blades.
The opening act created nervous apprehension in the pit of my stomach in regards to the remainder of the show. I found the courage to return indoors and snuck to stage right to gain a better view than from my previous position. One half of The Hood Internet stomped onstage, slammed down a covert can of Cherney Bock and stiffly swung his arms above his head holding up a #1 sign. Oh no. STV SLV was the only one of the duo to make it onto stage and was left to dance on his own. Chugging bass overlaid with intense, windy noises morphed suddenly into Two Chainz's voice. "I'm Different" was a foolish song choice, but created a slightly pleasant oxymoron in comparison to the reality of The Hood Internet's set. After pressing play, SLV occasionally turned a knob to emphasize the melody or turn up the bass. Otherwise, he was completely uninvolved in the music generation process and, instead, pranced around his laptop and pumped his fist. I realized that Starfucker, a personal favorite, was part of the mash-up and my annoyance doubled.
Song after song featured an artist I enjoyed paired with sub-par production and a cliche radio hip-hop artist. The final straw was his rendition of "Ignition" by R. Kelly which could barely be discerned over a ridiculous, trancy bass-line. The chorus broke at three times normal speed and I panicked. In two seconds flat I was on the back patio where "toot toot" and "beep beep" were slightly less offensive. The population on the patio had increased tremendously and I was left to assume that I wasn't the only one trying to bolt.
The LEDs were removed and a large projection screen had taken their place when I returned. I was excited for my first experience of Black Moth Super Rainbow's live set, especially with the release of Cobra Juicy at the end of last year. The crowd was becoming restless and their sweat drying, so to counteract the slowing down of their heart rates a small, drunken mosh pit formed and the floor became sticky with a thick film of beer. I squatted and tightened my Chucks to avoid them being unexpectedly pulled off my feet by a rouge patch of PBR and stood up just in time to witness Black Moth entering the stage.