Juicy J at Myth, 3/28/14

Categories: Last Night
Photo by Erik Hess

Juicy J
Myth, Maplewood
Friday, March 28, 2014

At 10 p.m. on Friday, two terrified girls were pressed against the front row railing at Myth. Behind them, a wave of disoriented faces swelled and lurched forward. The bodies in the front retaliated by pushing back. Men cried. Young girls in booty shorts threatened to kill each other. The wave swelled again. A girl pulled from the crowd by security slipped in a puddle and fell, revealing her bare crotch to the Molly-fueled room.

These people were hungry. Faceless hands reached out to grab the nearest genitalia. Men grinded against women they'd never met, non-consensually inching their fingers up skirts. A kid dancing with his girlfriend turned around to scream, "Bitch stop grabbing my balls." The girl smiled and moved on to another man. The pit pushed forward. The front row screamed and pushed back. A gargantuan security guard with an ACE garden mister sprayed water into the mouths of panting fans. Blunts were smoked. Fights broke out. It took all the restraint the crowd could muster to refrain from having public sex. And this was all during the opening DJ's set.

Welcome to Juicy J's Never Sober tour -- the show where everyone was fucked up and laws didn't matter. Let's get turnt up.

See also:
Slideshow: Juicy J turns it up at Myth

The six hour hip hop marathon kicked off with a two hour DJ set by Audio Perm, who played a mix of top 40 hits and throwbacks. The DJ, donning yellow shorts and a puffy yellow coat, kept his cool while his cohort jumped around the stage, attempting to hype the audience up with lines like, "Go apeshit bananas like you just found out a family member died or something!" Beyond that, they were fine -- but we weren't at the Myth for hip-hop dance night. We wanted Juicy.

A security guard (who thought my notebook was an autograph book and demanded to sign it) informed me that Juicy J wouldn't be coming on until a quarter to one. Audio Perm finished at 10 and I didn't have the heart to tell my neighbors -- who had begun chanting "Juicy, Juicy, Juicy" -- that they had another three hours to wait.

Photos by Erik Hess

Chicago MC Show You Suck was up next. His hype man stole the show, winning the award for best outfit of the night with his Brand New shirt, high tops, and fleece puzzle-piece patterned harem pants. Sadly, he later slipped on some cords and fell off the stage, which he played off as an intentional front row meet-and-greet.

Midway through his set, Show You Suck announced, "I got a rap song about boobs. Do you wanna hear a rap song about boobs?" The crowd screamed. A girl on the opposite side of the stage got festive and pulled up her shirt. The hype man yelled, "There's titties out!" Then she did it again. And again. And again. Finally, a security guard ran to the side of the stage and told her to stop. No one else seemed to mind.

At that point, the crowd was in a state of total disarray. Cat fights were breaking out left and right, hoards of kids were being pulled from the crowd, and a disgruntled guy behind me hissed, "Fucking A, you're at a fucking concert. Chill out or leave," to no one in particular.

Photos by Erik Hess

Project Pat sauntered onto the stage 30 minutes later. A girl next to me squealed, "Juicy J!!" No one corrected her. On the right side of the stage, a gaggle of girls in booty shorts attempted to twerk -- emphasis on attempted. A tiny girl in a body suit who begged her way on stage gave an unknown person affiliated with Project Pat a lap dance, complete with interpretive fellatio moves and full-on humping. He remained straight-faced, nonchalantly drinking pink drank from a plastic bottle. Project Pat appeared to be completely oblivious to what was happening behind him.

Pat's was the least impressive performance of the night. He came across as more of a hype man than a rapper, barking out select phrases over polished pre-recorded vocals. Maybe he's just bitter about being his little brother's opening act.

Travi$ Scott stole the show, despite addressing Minneapolis as "Minnianapolis." The 21-year-old Houston native climbed a shaking set of speakers, precariously tiptoed across railings, laid on the ground and sang in a security guard's face, and fearlessly leaped from the stage into the crowd on two separate occasions. During the set, Allan Kingdom appeared from behind the backstage curtain and spent the rest of the night showing off his signature dance moves. People actually seemed to recognize Scott, which was relieving after witnessing the audience's reaction to Project Pat.

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