[New Orleans, LA] this group threw me off with their look (don’t quite fit any place or decade that I know of) but their sound was all booty rap and bass, kind of old school – per his/her myspace, the appropriate description is ‘bounce rap’ – I stand by my name, though, because the band members spent a lot of time doing fancy booty moves in swirly underpants – their myspace also makes them out to be a gay/cross-gender, but from I was standing, this wasn’t clear – people were helplessly drifting to this show – it was irresistible – but when the line of people waiting to get in or gawking over the fence started booty dancing too, it was hilarious, especially the pale little hipsters – one drunk party girl was trying to get in with her smooth booty moves, it didn’t work – and the best best part was the sullen and uncomfortable long-haired old rocker monitoring the line – oh, I love it when cultures collide

I liked this guy a lot but I’m not positive that’s his name – I thought he was calling himself Rick Undercut… he came out in a stupid fake long clumpy beard but he worked the crowd (unlike last guy), he moved quickly through his songs (which always pleases my quick-process style) and played a diverse mix of soul, hardcore rap, and sleazy 70s funk, he did a little bit of scratching but mostly was attentive and interactive, he had an unfortunately drab voice but it didn’t hurt him too much

Kool Keith deserves all of this intro crap since I was waiting for him but the DJ who annoyed me is going to get it all instead… I, like an old unhip girl, believed the hype that the Mohawk was obeying noise ordinances and running shows early. So I showed up at 9pm on the dot and waited for, count them, 2 ½ hours – I was counting them. The crowd stopped being interesting after about 17 minutes. The crowd was diverse – there were actually black people at a Red River show – there’s hope for Austin yet – otherwise there were hipsters, kickers, frat boys and a ton of stoners. As I sat there, I thought, I love the Austin music scene… and it has a smell. Then I met a girl who looked like a roller derby girl but wasn’t, but she was friends with one. She’d been beat up by her best girl friend of 25 years and had a broken foot. I knew she wasn’t Texan because she was at this show (San Diego) and she guessed my height exactly (9’ ½”). As I waited longer, I figured out the smell: fresh humid air, cigarette smoke (mild b/c smoking’s generally banned), the sweet sweet smell of pot (if you’re at a hip-hop show), stale alcohol (I’m only saying that because I feel like I should – the music scene smell is in reality too good to include this), and MALE PHEROMONE. So, anyway, we all sat or stood politely while good club/hip-hop music played. And then finally, there was somebody on stage. Apparently a “DJ,” he played music of the same sort that had been playing over the speakers while we waited but with more frequent segueways. I have a minor fascination with DJs but I either want to be backstage to see the technical action or be totally impressed by the mixing, scratching, etc. Although his music was very good, it wasn’t his, and he didn’t have the fancy tricks to redeem him. I can’t even remember what he looked like.