It’s Sunday… what do you do you? Yes, you hit the Pump Jack with your muscle friend Dave (the “beefy one” on here ;)… you flirt up the hot, six foot two guy with the unfortunate- yet oddly hot- Hitler, grey stash… and then, you head to Donovan‘s to booze up before Gregg Gillis.
Who the frig is Gregg…? Yeah, he’s Girl Talk… a 20/maybe 30-something year-old, hairy, average lookin’ dude from Pennsylvania… oh and he’s FREAKIN’ BRILL with a laptop. If you haven’t heard of Girl Talk before, I’m not even going to waste my time proselytizing at you to get you “on our side”… we don’t want you… enjoy Fedde Le Grand and the early 2000’s… but the rest of us are hanging by the edge of our musically-fine-tuned seats for the latest releases by this genius.
Girl Talk was AMAZEBALLS! Not only was this the most eclectic (and typically, yes, that’s a terrifying “everyone’s included” lame-ass kindergarten teacher’s attempt at non-discrimination mot-du-jour) group of boys and girls that I’ve ever seen… but this was by far the most fun-seeking and lax company of metros I’ve partied with in a LONG time.
Donovan and I attended Girl Talk’s show with Topher and Brian and were not by ANY definition of the word disappointed in our night. Yes, to be fair, the over-weight American “who the hell was that” opening act went on a bit long… (seriously, did ANYone hear a word he blasted out in that sparkly XXL “even Jonny from Project Runway wouldn’t have sported?” shirt?)… Still, the main event took the stage and OWNED us from there on in… I defy any of Girl Talk’s fans to say that last night wasn’t an explosion of creativity and expression…
What I worry the most about this DJ is that he becomes complacent with his songs- mashing and depending on them for new shows where people maybe haven’t heard of that Gabrielle meets the Jackson Five remix… but Gregg doesn’t even allow us that pause. Offering all new mixes of classic, CLASSIC songs… I found myself wishing I was with some hottie and bold enough to body grind with him because that’s what the crowd got up to!
Also surrounded by my gorgeous straight friends, I realized that this not-so-exclusive DJ find of mine (slash Donovan’s), basically dominated the hetero world as well as his mashes rang nostalgic for all ages and all sexual preferences. Gays were out and rockin’ this evening as much as the rest of em’. Having not hung out with the “muggles” (straight friends) for a while, it was amazing to see how well my gay and boy-meets-girl-world friends collided once the common denominator of genius DJ was introduced.
No, to answer your question, I was not paid by the Jason Schwartzman-lookalike corporation of America to say this… I truly bow at the musical alter of this this sweaty, I’m-assuming-slash-hoping-for-my-future-mother-in-law’s-sake’s Jewish composer.
Yes, we’ve all heard his “Cleveland Shake” and the ensuing Salt N’ Pepper mash up after that… but hearing this boy in concert is an experience like none other.
I am NOT a concert guy, and yet tonight I found myself dancing and attacking that 10-years-ago-cell-phone-lookin’ giant inflated and crowd surfin’ parachute snake like no other, and bompin’ till the pit stains and under-arm odor could no longer be denied.
The Commodore yielded nothing but friendly and well-built muscled smiles for us patrons from the noddingAbouncers. Oh, and if you’re hoping to get on the stage for GT’s next show… apparently all it takes is being a) A double X chromosome carrier (seriously, the sorority-row rejects that littered that stage were reminiscent of a final “let’s get even” scene from “Revenge of the Nerds”…) and b) Unattractive but under 21 if you’ve got anything resembling a penis. The “dancers” Gregg had littering the stage truly demonstrated that this DJ was not simply some steroid abusin’ homo that couldn’t see past a 32 (pause for gasp) waist line. And, while I personally think that’s about 3 inches too much, kudos to Girl Talk for accepting the less-fortunate onto his final show in Vancouver. By the way, yes, the boy did play yesterday (Saturday) night as well… but, that was only because the true fans bought out the Sunday show so something had to be provided for you late-bloomers… ain’t he a peach? 😉