LIV at the Fontainebleau Miami Beach
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
His set was the one of two pros among many cons at the Fontainebleau's posh nightclub. The other was the magnificent and therapeutic ceiling which lights up to resemble firecrackers.
Other than those perks, the club was the sort of shitshow that makes you glad you're no longer young enough to feel obligated to put up with crap to party.
Before getting into the music, let's take a second and examine the location. This is a place that the writer has long stood up for, hypnotized by those goddamned lights. They're just so much fun. But after being manhandled, pushed, pulled, yelled at by LIV's 10,000 bouncers, there's little love left. We're no stranger to the aggressions of a guy working the VIP room. We've spent younger years in shouting matches with giant dudes up and down Washington, but sober and pleasant, last night's bullying was undeserved.
The other strange thing is that all the young (and we're talking young) girls are herded behind the VIP ropes segregated from the boys and older gentlemen. How does anyone get laid like this? It's madness!
Some bad video for ya.
Contra started out the night spinning crowd favorites (read: crap) mixed with some good stuff like Blur, Missy, and Lil Wayne. There was a dance version of "Crazy Train" and the Chili Peppers' "Otherside." The whole place got a little overexcited about the LMFAO shot song, which inspired new 21 year olds to promptly begin chugging Grey Goose. Chugging from the bottle.
Felix da Housecat kicked off with some "Personal Jesus." (FYI, Depeche Mode is known for making a bitch melt.) Not long after, he brought out another late '80s classic, Fine Young Cannibals' "She Drives Me Crazy," and you know what? We couldn't resist. There was some "I Wanna Be Your Dog" (not the Stooges, rather Swanky Tunes and Hard Rock Sofa's version) and the wonderful Donna Summer song "I Feel Love." As the house deepened, on came the rave-out laser lights. It was, overall, a beautifully orchestrated electronic audio bouquet.
We may be old and bitter, but the true makings of a memorable club experience don't elude us. It's the music all the way. There was enough of that goodness yesterday to make up for the pushing and pulling of men in black suits. Oh, and the ceiling lights that look like thrift shop flowers, those don't hurt either.
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