The Tripod

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Planted in the middle of a stormy sea of millennials in the finest Urban Outfitters has to offer was I, your friendly Tripod News Editor. After buying tickets on a whim two months ago about 15 minutes after a friend directed me to a certain MySpace page, I made my way to Toad's Place in New Haven, Conn. to see the magic that is Girl Talk last Friday, April 25.

The stage name of Gregg Gillis, Girl Talk is a ridiculous mix of Top 40 songs from the past 15 years set to an infectious dance beat. His last album, Night Ripper, released in 2006, put 167 artists together in 16 tracks, a nearly inaccessible volume of source material collaborating together for beats hugely indicative of the culture from which they have emerged.

Girl Talk's only instrument is his laptop, wrapped in plastic to avoid the boatloads of sweat that drip from his body (according to reports he usually ends up near-naked by the end of his shows; Friday's ended with him still dressed, though soaked through). The plastic also protects it from the water thrown by audience members, themselves soaked to the skin with sweat from dancing to the beats he lays down. Any discomfort to the Neon Wayfarer-wearing crowd that evening was lessened by the intense feeling of community.

The show started with a sound check following the opener (Cambridge, Mass. based band Passion Pit) in which he recounted a girl who complained about this sound check style at a previous show ("Fuck that girl!" he yelled). Security then opened the stage up to show-goers, who stormed the stage, and Gillis himself, jumping around, dancing, and crowd-surfing. A testament to the power of the beats, the simple folding table Gillis had set his laptop on was continuously rocked back and forth. Before his last song, Gillis thanked the girls around him who helped him keep the table stable, and commented on the guys on the stage "jerking themselves off."

It would be impossible for me to list off all of the tracks he sampled and the songs he played; there were just too many. Personal sampled favorites included "Africa" by Toto, "Juicy" by The Notorious B.I.G., and "Since U Been Gone" by Kelly Clarkson. It would also have been impossible to get through the entire set without recognizing at least one song, at least for most people with ears of the college age (according to Wikipedia we are "Generation-Y" but that's wicked lame. Wikipedia also labels millennials, which Microsoft Word doesn't believe is actually a word, but the president of our College uses it enough that it must be).

In a New Haven Advocate article previewing the show, Gillis said of his appeal and audience: "Frat dudes like it, rap guys like it, rock guys like it." This was true of the Trinity presence in the audience and on the stage. I was with my Pike brothers, and noticed Hall brothers, Psi U brothers, members of The Fred, and Tripod online staff among many others. It was far more varied a group than you may see at any Trinity function, save for maybe orientation and graduation.

I would like to say that I felt out of place amongst the scenesters who certainly did not fit any typical Trinity mold with their hipster clothes and eyewear (one girl was, it seemed, intentionally splattered with neon colored paint) who were continuously chain smoking and scratching their noses. The crowd was so varied and welcoming, however, that it wasn't difficult to let go and simply enjoy the nuts musical stylings of Girl Talk.

After a strong recommendation from Tripod senior editor Sara Yoo '08, Toad's did not disappoint, and wandering around New Haven made me wish that Hartford was more like that city. Scariest moment of the evening may go to the deserving young man who was tazed by the New Haven Police Department three times after beating up on a homeless man (who many in the crowd gathered outside Toad's recognized as "Joe"). A writer with less of a hatred (or maybe a recognized penchant) for cliché and bad puns may have made the joke here that the show was simply "electrifying."

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