By Max Kyburz
While it should have been so obvious for the neon leopard print wearing duo LMFAO to make such a quasi-clever replacement of “Miami” with “New Britain,” they were too busy making Kaiser their personal party temple. Their mission was to bring the party to a sold out CCSU crowd, and that they did.
With the semester coming to a close and the kids seeking for something more than just another house party or a game of darts at Elmers (or whatever it is they do there), a couple hours of fun tunes do just the trick. LMFAO is by no means intelligent, but with everyone spending every ounce of brain fuel on biomolecular science and Othello, they supply the stress antidote.
CCSU’s taken a while to fully get a unanimously satiable concert. A few years ago, Busta Rhymes’ three-hour delay nearly caused a severe uproar. Lifehouse was said to have reeled in a pitiful attendance. Big D and the Kids Table was modestly successful, though it attracted more non-students. When LMFAO was announced as the big name for this year’s concert, I can’t say I was totally surprised, but still a little dismayed at the choice. Then again, my choices would have probably turned off even the non-students. Considering the group’s relevancy (especially compared to that of the previous spring concert bands), CAN seemed to have made the right choice.
Still, my anticipation was smeared with dread. Knowing my role as a journalist, my attendance was mandatory. If I wasn’t going to have fun, I at least could have appreciated it as a collegiate anthropological study. The show was bound to bring in throngs of drunk kids, things were likely to go awry and it would have stood as a microcosm of everything CCSU students stand for. This is a party school; it only makes sense that our spring concert reflects that. Again, not my first choice, but life is full of disappointments.
How did I plan to endure the process? The only way I knew how: climbing into a can of Natural Ice, catapulting into another, repeat. I wasn’t going to go in cold, though I began to wonder whether my need for drink was to make the show more tolerable or to make it more fun. Perhaps a little bit of both. When I loopily approached Kaiser Hall, armed with my laminated press pass, the masses waited eagerly. As they got closer to the door security and metal detectors, patrons finished the last of their cigarettes and whatever mysterious brew resided in their red plastic cups. They were about to enter a Thunderdome of careless festivity.
Jason LeVasseur, a self-described “award winning singer-songwriter” from Nashville, Tenn., opened things up with a chilled-out mood. Awkward choice, as it were, seeing how each song was greeted with a hearty chant of “J.Cole! J. Cole! J. Cole!.” (Note to CAN: performers who only tour colleges are never anyone’s bag). Once he was done, the energy grew, as did the crowd. Of course, it was distributed in all the wrong ways; the concert was an hour behind schedule, causing folks to start a couple fights (they must have really not liked that LeVasseur guy). A couple seizures and bowl rips later, rapper J. Cole finally took the stage and the room erupted. Everybody close to the front got moving, as did I. I mean, it was either that or be the token lame judgmental snob in the back of the room.
Of course, when I was moving around, the reactions of those around me made me realize that some people don’t quite understand concert etiquette. It’s a high-energy hip hop show. People are going to be slightly buzzed, assuring that people will be a little sloppy but not always belligerent. Regardless, when I slightly lose control but maintaining my balance, I get evil looks and commands to “stand still.” Right. I’m sorry that I’m stepping on your girlfriend’s sandaled feet, but she chose to wear them, not me. This isn’t a Kenny Chesney show. End of rant.
J. Cole was enough to whip CCSU into a frenzy, making the segue into LMFAO more than accessible. By now all attendees had shown up and though the show was completely sold out, only half of the gymnasium was filled. The space most immediately in front of the stage was packed like drunken sardines, but trailed off towards the back. It was almost like it turned into a bad 8th grade dance three quarters of the way through. Regardless, those who were up front could not have been more amped.
Once the music over the PA quieted, the crowd wailed in anticipation. The DJ for LMFAO got the crowd more excited by spinning some intro tracks, all while members of their crew and CAN threw out complementary glow sticks and t-shirts into the crowd. Two more “band members” took the stage: a ponytailed broseph in leopard print who was mostly likely not playing the not plugged in guitar hanging around his neck, as well as a fresh-looking dude whose only purpose was to background dance. I don’t even think J. Cole has that kind of support (luckily, not many do).
Finally, out came the wolves. LMFAO began thumping and bouncing to a remix of “Eye of the Tiger,” with everyone in the room joining along. They were not there to chill, they came to party. The vibe refused to die down, with the help of flying beach balls, champagne bottles spraying, hoses blasting dry ice and fake money being thrown around. Did I say champagne? I’m assuming it was apple cider, seeing how we are supposed to be a dry campus. Drinking is only appropriate when performed in the comfort of your dorm while your RA pretends to not notice. LMFAO seemed to know the scoop, even though our anti-alcohol rules prevented actual shots going down during their trademark song “Shots (Shots Shots Shots Shots Shots).” Though their music could have inspired enough anarchy as middle class kids in Ed Hardy could cause, the concert was fairly innocuous.
Now if we can just get Lil’ Wayne for next year, we’d all be happy. Just no Jack Johnson wannabes, please.
