The night started with a BANG—well, it was more of a thud—as a car hit a passing motorcyclist on the corner of 17th and Washington. It was only about 8:45 p.m. A small crowd gathered at the corner of the sidewalk gawking at the emergency vehicles swarming the scene, but most moved on when the cops started barking and the motorcyclist started moving around on the ground. He is lucky to be alive.
Meanwhile, folks were filing into the Fillmore to catch Max Tundra, an electronic madman from the UK. Max Tundra joined Girl Talk for a leg of his tour through Florida.
Inside, the main hall seemed to fill up in a blink when Max Tundra went on. He had an odd array of synthesizers, machines and instruments arranged on a table in front of the massive closed curtains of the Fillmore’s stage.
Using everything from beat machines to finger harps, Max Tundra got the crowd grooving before ending his set with a surprising version of “So Long, Farewell.”
Now that the masses were lubed up, it was time to really get down. Anticipation mounted as the crush grew larger and larger. When the lights dimmed and a low bass sweep looped across the hall, the Fillmore exploded in cheers and applause. When the bass sweeps gained pitch and momentum, they became words. “Girl Talk,” the bass sweeps chanted, spurring the crowd to chant along.
The curtains parted to reveal a massive LED wall and Gregg Gillis, a.k.a. Girl Talk, ran onto the stage and kicked off his set. He was barely onstage for two minutes when a crowd of VIPs stormed the stage. Stagehands wielding leaf-blowers blew toilet paper streamers over the pit.
The rest of the night blended into a confused haze of flashing lights, frenzied ragers and snippets of pop culture spliced together and strung along by the steady thump of the bass. It was the kind of bass that literally blew your hair back if you stood too close to the massive subwoofers on the sides of the stage.
Giant balloons filled with confetti bounced along the mob of people that eventually filled the massive venue from wall to wall.
And the music never stopped. Girl Talk’s set was a continuous flow of popular music sampled and remixed to the point that you just weren’t sure what you were listening to anymore. All you had was a vague sense of familiarity and an irresistible rhythm pounding into your very core. You had to be stone dead not to get down at this party.
By the time Girl Talk finished his encore, the pit was a mess. We waded through ankle deep piles of confetti and toilet paper to exit the theatre. Outside, any passerby could see we just left a party of epic proportions. Pieces of confetti still sticking to sweaty bodies were a dead giveaway.
And it’s all happening again tonight. Get out there and grab a piece of the action while it’s still hot!