Hip-Pop’s Exotic Princess Graces San Diego with her Presence

Shows take practice.  It takes a very long time to really get good at going to shows.  And even after you do, you have to figure out that there are many different types of shows.  After learning this, you must adjust your behavior accordingly.  Over time, these things begin to come naturally, and you find yourself optimizing the concert experience.  The M.I.A. show was one of those times.

I arrived at 4th and B with just enough time to relieve myself, buy a drink, and scope my spot on the floor.  For those who have not seen a show at 4th and B, I heartily recommend that you hit their calendar of events and find a band you like.  This place is made for shows.  It’s basically a glorified warehouse with a massive dance floor for all the real fans and then plenty of places for the posers to sit.  As I see it, this keeps the lame people out of my hair.  So I approve.

I stood around drinking my beer for approx 120 seconds before the lights went down.  It was at this point that I began to pat myself on the back for my amazing show-seeing abilities.  The crowd erupted into the familiar cheers of a collective group about to get exactly what they came for.  It was – up to this point – just another kickass concert.

Then everything changed.  The M.I.A. chants started.  The shouting became more pronounced.  The crowd became slightly aggressive, everyone pushing toward the front as people began to flood the stage – still shrouded in shadows.  None of them was M.I.A., so the crowd continued to chant in unison, the show taking on the affect of an anti-war rally.

The protesters were restless, and they required dance music delivered by their Sri Lankan savior.

She obliged soon after, appearing in a dark green leopard print leotard (easily confused for a camouflage color, and likely not by accident) that she covered with a red sequined tank top tied off in the middle at the front and back so as to create an hour-glass effect.

When she hit the stage, the steel drums of Bamboo Banga dropped in.  Then those familiar words, first uttered by the Modern Lovers:

Road Runna Road Runna…. Goin’ Hundred Miles an Hour….

It was at this point that the crowd set its collective will to the goal of abject destruction of the cement floor beneath them.  I haven’t been to a solid warehouse dance party in far too long, and I’d like to personally thank M.I.A. for turning 4th and B into just that for at least one night.  It was beautifully chaotic in the way that only really great parties and shows can be.

I truly felt as though one errant elbow or fist could have turned the scene from dance party to unholy riot at absolutely any point.  There was even a moment where the entire middle of the crowd opened up and a slightly pudgy young man sprung forth looking frightened for his life.  He pushed a few concert-goers aside on his way to the exit.

Behind him chased the tiniest little Asian girl I have ever seen, obviously out for blood.  It was just that kind of party.
The crowd merged again, and I found myself now only a few rows back from the stage.  I began dancing to the beat of the music as M.I.A danced atop the speaker to “Sunshowers.”  I could feel strangers pressing against me.  It was dark and loud, but not uncomfortable.  The collective will of the crowd was taking over the scene.

Everyone was there to drink and shout and dance.

M.I.A. left the crowd dazed when she fled the stage.  The room went fully black.  Within the seconds the concert-goers were chanting her name in unison.  It became very obvious no one was going anywhere until they’d had their fill.

The streetwise princess of political pop was all too happy to oblige, but only after she allowed the group to work itself into a frenzy.  There chanting had become more aggressive and more pronounced.   When M.I.A. took the stage a second time, the joyous shouts from her fans greeted her with cheers and inaudible song requests.

She finished the set admirably, with a few more bangers before finally giving in and concluding the set as she always does these days – with her underground hit, “Paper Planes.”

It seems to be everyone’s favorite M.I.A. song (I must admit, it’s mine as well), and when she holds off playing it, it makes it so much sweeter when she finally does consent.  The collective relief of the crowd was palpable when the first few notes of the track came over the speakers.

M.I.A. once again showcased that while she is a charismatic figure and an artistic icon in the underground, it is her impeccable showmanship that puts her in a class by herself.  M.I.A. brought the crowd to a boil not once, not twice but three times on the night.  She then outdid herself by allowing the full steam release just when everyone felt they hadn’t another drop of sweat to give.

But M.I.A. knew better.  She seems to know just how much fun a crowd can stand to have.  At 4th and B, she gave the patrons all of that and then some.  I left the venue with at least 10 people’s sweat dripping off me.

Gross, I know, but completely and totally worth it.