Dub Vibes is a growing enterprise. Chapter Four, the Friday-night showcase, drew a much lighter crowd than expected. With some campaigning and continuously impressive lineups, this event will likely sell out the next time it comes through.
Renegades of Funk opened the evening. Their set went well in a generic sort of way, especially at the close, when they delivered an extended play of "Save the World," drawn out by a repeated tease of Duck Sauce's "Big Bad Wolf" and cowbell. More cowbell, anyone? Gotta have that cowbell.
Josh Money was next. He somehow seamlessly transferred command of the table and, with only a few flicks of his wrist on the controllers, had three-fourths of Revolution engulfed in a circle pit that only increased its fierceness after incentives from Money.
The headbanging was nothing short of a rock show, likely producing a few herniated discs. For a moment, the crowd parted, and following a handheld spotlight was MC Jumanji. Rapping over these dense riffs of bass, it was hard to decipher anything he was saying, but we'll take the headbanging as an emphatic version of a nod of approval.
Big Chocolate's set was filled with more personality than you might expect. His facial expressions alone were a clear sign of character. It was hard to keep him behind the table long enough to get any real breakdowns, but it was a fair trade for his stage presence and interaction with the crowd.
Big Chocolate carried so much audio weight, he could easily headline a show with the amount of decibels with which he toyed. He even had the go-go dancers step aside. The circle pit was still going strong, and guys were moshing with girls atop their shoulders only to be temporarily interrupted by the occasional dance-off. Rolls of toilet paper were tossed from one side of the balcony to the other, a sure sign of a festive occasion.
By the time Crizzly took the stage, it was just past 1 a.m. The crowd was dense enough to suspend the circle-pit activity long enough to have Crizzly kick off with "Niggas in Paris." Saying that it went over well would be an understatement. Next thing you know, Bare was in front of the stage with the mic swinging a bottle of Grey Goose around while eight bikini-clad dancers swarmed the stage.
Crizzly has gained some notoriety for his growth in the crunkstep genre of EDM (yes, readers, another "-step" genre, but this one's different, we promise), focused solely on the dirtiest rap songs laid over the filthiest bass. And Crizzly's holding the reins, mixing Ludacris to Kreayshawn to 50 Cent. His most credited song is his interpretation of Waka Flocka's "Hard in the Paint."
A tarp was laid out on the stage, and the dancers got their hands on some paint and one other. Even Waka Flocka would have had a hard time keeping his tongue in his mouth.
From the moment Bare stepped onstage, he blew minds. Jumping all over the place, he didn't stop, even though his last preshow tweet noted how sore he was. After a daunting, kingly intro of horns announcing the beginning of his set, he tossed us right into "King Kong."
He played originals, a ton of Nero, and the mandatory show bangers. Essentially, the same stuff that any other DJ might play, but any other DJ isn't Bare. He turned "Promises" into an impromptu karaoke set that had people turning to each other and singing along.
Bare could play any song, and as soon as he has the slightest say in the BPM or bass, it was transformed into something that made the crowd feel glorious and pumped with power. Revolution became less of a show and more of a party.
Everyone reminded us of their Winter Music Conference and Ultra plans; we're getting very antsy about next month. We could all use this time in between wisely to repair ourselves in preparation. Maybe go to a doctor. A short stint at a monastery would be beneficial. When these fine gentlemen come through town next time, they'll be coming harder, and we'll need to be prepared.
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