Fatboy Slim at the 9:30 Club
(Review from guest reviewer Jake Wolman)
Showing up at the 9:30 Club for the 11:30 Fatboy Slim show -- not a "doors open at 11:30," but an 11:30 show -- we were greeted with a line of people six-wide, stretching two blocks away from the front of the 9:30 Club. OK, we understand that this was the second show of the night (with Interpol playing the earlier one) and they had to clear the club out in between, but we didn't get inside the club 'til midnight, and the show didn't even begin until 12:20 a.m. We can't help but feel that a little bit of foresight would have gotten everyone in and out of there a little bit faster.
We finally made it into the packed club and made our way immediately to our favorite spot on the second level, where there's always room to stand with a clear view of the performance (no, we won't tell you where -- it's our secret!). We were impressed to note the setup: the regular stage cleared of equipment and open to concertgoers, with a small square of metal forming a DJ booth/stage right in the middle of the floor. A large projection screen hung above the main stage area, upon which computer-generated graphics undulated throughout the show.
He jumped right into the music, the heavy bass pounding the walls. As would become a theme throughout the evening, most of the music was unrecognizable -- pretty good and well-mixed, but low on melody and high on overwhelming rhythm (not unlike some percentage of the crowd). Briefly, we picked out a few measures of Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang," a song we remembered from Kill Bill: Volume 1. But as soon as the crowd recognized it, it had faded away. This experience repeated itself over the next two hours, with Fatboy Slim's own music making only short, superficial appearances in his mix. Our favorite song of his, "Right Here, Right Now," would be the evening's Moby Dick, swimming beneath the music's waves, occasionally surfacing just long enough to whet our appetites, then diving back into the murky depths of generic dance music. Making similar appearances were the not-for-radio "In Heaven," the White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army" (the bassline a nice exception to the unremarkably-generic music that dominated the show).
The only Fatboy single that he really played was the one that started it all, "Funk Soul Brother." And it was awesome. Another highlight was a fun and complicated mix of "Walk Like an Egyptian," whose kitschy appeal was undeniable. Unfortunately, these examples merely served to remind this reviewer of how much better the rest of the show could have been. At 2:15 a.m., the crowd got its last taste of "Right Here, Right Now." Soon thereafter, we heard a wacky, sped-up rendition of Janis Joplin's "Mercedes Benz," from which Fatboy Slim segued deftly into the absolute most energizing part of the show -- the end. As the first chords of Franz Ferdinand's hipster rocker, "Take Me Out," rang out, Cook waved to the crowd, took a deep bow, and walked offstage.
The crowd clapped wildly, cheered, whistled, and yelled, with cries of "Fatboy, Fatboy!" drowning out the still-thumping bass. After five or ten minutes, we began to look around, wondering. Where was he? He wouldn't just leave like that, would he? As the house lights came on, it became clear to us that he would. OK, it was late. But where's our encore? Fatboy played a pretty long show, we will admit, but we stood with the rest of the crowd, clapping and cheering for more, for more than a quarter of an hour, to no avail. Not even a brief appearance, which this reviewer thinks is the least a performer can do for an appreciative audience.
While we appreciate that Fatboy Slim didn't patronize the crowd with a mediocre mix of his original hits, we think that $35 is a lot of money for a middling 2 hour set we could have heard for free at Saint-Ex or DC9 (possibly even at that exact moment). The combination of a bland show with the lack of an encore left us with a bitter taste in our mouths, and we headed home disappointed.
(Image from efestivals.co.uk)