I went to last night’s M.I.A. show to have a good time, not as a journalistic exercise, and I’m pretty sure she’s not gay either (really too bad), but I am compelled to make at least some small amount of commentary on the sheer awesomeness of her performance.
The crowd was a strange mixture of hip world music enthusiasts, politically savvy hipsters dressed in early ’90s garb, and drooling lesbians. I was obviously one of the latter and with good reason. Very few people in this world could make florescent print spandex pants, an oversized hot pink t-shirt, Ellsbeth style Chucks and Max Headroom glasses sexy. M.I.A. is one of them.
And her fashion sense did not go wasted. It played backup, along with some epilepsy-inducing video eye candy to beats that were as energetic as they were skillful. Her lyrics, too, hold poignancy, but you’ll probably have to wait to read them the next day as your American ears are unlikely to fully understand within the frenzy of her live show.
And speaking of frenzy, the lady not only has kickin’ dance moves but she climbs all over the stage and speakers. At one point she hopped over a dangerous fall and into the flailing arms of her adoring fans in the stage right balcony singing and thrusting as she flew. I’m kicking myself for choosing the opposite side. I may have lost my only opportunity to ogle the talented and extremely hot Sri-Lankan Brit up close. Sigh…
