Ying Yang Twins, feat. the crowd of people who were only there for five songs.
Yes I know, I know. I know. I had to go, though. Had to.
So we show up at Nectar the exact moment dudes take the stage. The space is crazy packed with UW sweatshirts and giant Nexus phones held high. While we try to jostle past the door, stories of those poor people getting crushed by crowds pops into my mind and I panic for a second. "OMG please don't let me die in Fremont. At a Ying Yang Twins show. In 2014."
So both Twins are onstage, joined by a third rapper—a lady by the name of JusRhythm who's wearing an "I AM THE 12TH WOMAN" Seahawks shirt. One of their main points throughout the evening is that the concept of twerk, or TWURK, belonged to them. And not Miley Cyrus or anyone else. I did, actually, totally forgot they had that "Whistle While You Twurk" song 14 years ago.
Ying Yang Twins breeze through the hits: their hits, other peoples' hits, any hits (but mostly hits that they, as far as I know, have nothing to do with). A half-hour in, and definitely after "Get Low" is played, I notice it isn't hard to move around anymore. They make a show of chugging out of a Patron bottle. (A friend who went to the "meet n' greet" at like 8 p.m. had reported that only one Twin had shown up and was very, very wasted.) A Robin Thicke sample comes and goes. The already-garbled rapping becomes more and more incoherent as the songs drag by. Three of their "people" stand on the stage, straight-up texting. It isn't too terrible at first, more funny than anything, and they seem to be having an alright time—the taller Twin is never not grinning, eyes half-closed.
A guy texting, a girl texting, a "dance contestant," the smiley Twin, and JusRhythm.
The most "on it" person is JusRhythm, who shouts lyrics, dances, screams at the DJ, and screams about the Seahwaks ("FUCK DENVER" is chanted at one point). As the set unravels though, and more and more of the crowd trickles out, she turns aggro and kinda starts weirding me out. Rhythm's big thing is her "Draws to the Side" song—a boring jam about how you need to show her, and everyone, your vagina in order to get anywhere in the world—during which they demand that girls get onstage to dance. A few women who have maybe been more sober in their lives go up to shake it, but she keeps yelling "DJ hold up!" stopping the music and kicking them off, "Y'all move like old women! Move like a freak! You're supposed to impress me! Pop yo' pussy!" One girl is really going for it, but Rhythm has her boo'd off by the crowd because of the way her bodysuit fits. No one seems to be enjoying watching or participating in the "dance off" and I realize I've been giving Rhythm an "oh, well she's a lesbian" pass. But like, ew. Ew to anybody treating people like that. Although there is one dancer who wakes the crowd up—a punk-looking girl runs up onto the stage doing full windmill arms with a yin yang shaved into the side of her head! She rules and she knows it. Rhythm hates her. The Ying Yang Twins chug some vodka.
The show hasn't even been going for an hour and Nectar is half empty. They start a song, stop it, start it again, play a fucking Skrillex sample, and then stop again. The songs. Keep. Stopping. At this point, I don't even care that they're basically only doing mumble-rap karaoke, I just want to hear more than 15 seconds of "Hoochie Mama." When it comes time for the "Whisper Song," it seems like they're a little sheepish about it? Giggling/muttering through the raunchy lyrics like little kids who just got caught drawing boobs on their notebooks.
A girl in the bathroom tells me she is "too-fucked-up-and-I-lost-my-water" to figure out how the stalls open and shut. By the bar, I watch a guy wander around finding ladies to dance with like he knew them well, rubbing their backs and putting his arm around them before moving on and repeating the same move to four more women. They all seem really flattered. Fascinating.
At 12:37, the place has pretty much cleared out. The balcony is completely empty. Bud-Light-Lime casualties dance like muppets on the floor.
At 1:04, Ying Yang Twins start one more song, stop it after 20 seconds, yell something at each other, yell something at the DJ, and don't start it again. The end.