Twiztid at Skyway Theatre, 4/16/14
|Photos by Adam DeGross|
Skyway Theatre, Minneapolis
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Snow is falling lightly over downtown Minneapolis. Too early for rush hour traffic, the streets are relatively quiet. Buses roll by. Pedestrians walk quickly with their heads down, shielding their eyes from the wet flakes. Suddenly, a call to arms pierces the relative silence.
The Skyway Theatre comes into view. A line is forming beneath its marquee - people of all shapes and sizes, young and old, some with their hair twisted up into tiny braids, others with faces painted up unnervingly like horror movie clowns. The line begins to stretch into the adjacent parking structure. A man again shouts out. The collective reply resonates from the back of the line, spilling out onto the street. "WHOOP WHOOP!"
It was not Halloween. It was a Wednesday evening in mid-April, and a Twiztid show was about to go down.
Inside the venue, a group of Juggalos lined the stairs up to the concert hall. Some were holding folders of artwork they had made, others clutching posters or Twiztid T-shirts. These were the lucky fans who were anxiously awaiting a meet and greet session with the horrorcore rap duo themselves, and they had come bearing gifts.
Once the doors were officially open, a crowd streamed in steadily. Women with their hair in neon dreadlocks wearing Twiztid jerseys that hung down to their knees and furry rave boots were accompanied by men with neck tattoos and blinged out "hatchet man" necklaces. No two clown faces were the same. Some more closely represented the early era of Twiztid -- with colors and shapes vaguely reminiscent of a jack-o-lantern's face. Others were more zombie-like, with a heavy concentration of darkness around the eyes. Others still were more avant-garde, more abstract.
An extremely tall gentlemen with his hair braided neatly out from his head in tiny green twists and a matching green button-up marched directly to the front of the floor, planting himself before the stage. The first act, Homegrown, presented their "wicked Minnesota music making bitches shout." Sick Addiction, the St. Paul rap duo of Rellik and Loki, immediately followed. Rellik wore a crafty marijuana leaf mask. Loki's face was painted as a leering clown frozen in a creepy perma-smile. Loki's more high-pitched voice complimented that of Rellik's lower one, much as Madrox's does to Monoxide.
The smell of marijuana began wafting throughout the room. The Juggalos were growing in number. With a hatchet peeking out from the pocket of his jeans, Bowzzer rode out onto the stage upon a miniature bicycle, breaking through a pile of cardboard boxes with question marks drawn on them. A bald blow up sex doll stood behind him. About halfway through his set, Bowzzer explained to the audience what a "giraffe pussy" is. "You know when you tryna' holler at a stuck up bitch?" he asked. "When they got their nose up in the air? I call that a giraffe pussy. You can't reach, man."
"Who wanna fuck up this stuck up ass bitch?" he asked, slamming the blow up doll face down into the floor repeatedly. The crowd screamed. He threw the disgraced inflatable into the audience where it functioned as a beach ball. Then he performed a super sexy-sounding song about finding a dead woman in an alley and taking her cadaver home to have sex with it.
"WE GO CHICKEN HUNTING! WE GO CHICKEN HUNTING!" the Juggalos chanted.