Live Review: Freddie Gibbs at Crazy Girls
Deidre Crawford Freddie Gibbs Has A Lot To Smile About
A strip club crowd's a tough crowd. When the inked, mohawked "Malice" is prancing and preening like she's the lead in Mötley Crüe's "Girls, Girls, Girls" video; and the acrobatic "Jojo" is languidly folding herself into origami around the pole, how can a rapper compete?
He doesn't. If he's smart, he plays to the girls. Last night at Crazy Girls, there were lots of smart rappers in attendance--in theory, if not always in practice.
TiRon and Ayomari opened the show with a tightly edited, clever set that not only catered to the specific environment, but also showcased some of the best of the two's collaborations. Originally hailing from the Midwest, TiRon's sound and lyrics are reminiscent of one of its most (in)famous native sons, Kanye West. He kept the old soul production and honesty while losing the grating whininess, as evinced last night in the '70s game show theme-recalling, "Ms. Right," and the Biz Markie-riffing "Sydney."
Southern born-and-bred Ayomari's sound is trippier, slippery and more sensual. "I Wanna (Journey)," a lucid dream, and the liquid "Body Language" are custom-fitted "Jojo" numbers. Both rappers playfully engaged the dancers, TiRon wagging his tongue after one; Ayomari directing lyrics towards another.
87 Stick Up Kids, on the other hand, are fighters, not lovers. Both embodying the spirit and literally looking like direct descendants of the Beastie Boys, they worked the crowd into a fine frenzy while fairly ignoring the gyrating girls, save for perfunctorily stuffing a dollar or two into a bikini here and there. But their set was born to make the girls roll ... and rock and bounce. Flinging themselves (and in the process, sweat) through a fast, furious, and very fun performance, they gave a nod to the venue, DJ Rockwell flipping strip club standards like Warrant's "Cherry Pie" and Prince's "Kiss." Their original songs were chosen mindfully, and rowdily, too: "Lights, Camera ...," "Make that Bubble Bounce," and "Shake It Like a White Girl."
But this was Freddie Gibbs' show, as it seems most are these days.