[Bronx NY] I chanced upon her at SXSW (five years ago!) and
was entranced. Hard stoned rap. I generally like any female performers that out-tough
the men because I’M A FEMINIST. Sorry, the people have been trying my nerves
lately… She reminded me of dance rap females (Kid Sister, Amanda Blank) associated
with Spank Rock, gorgeous dance rappers from Baltimore. She’s probably more
contemporary or mainstream than them. I swear everytime I google her, her name
has one more ‘i’ in it. Oh, and a dead ringer for Tigra & Bunny (sorry ‘L’Trimm’),
the weird satellite group from the 90s (“We Like the Cars, the Cars that Go
Boom”) that I have no background knowledge on but who Fundamentally Shaped Me. On
my way over, I realized I’d never been to this venue before, and that it’s in
the worst part of downtown Portland: Oldtown/Chinatown. Usually my train to
work passes right through this area but one day I messed up and was stepping
through all sorts of human disarray, at 7a (why lie, it was 10a) in the morning.
Chanting in my head: “Recognize their humanity.” I smiled at a dragged-out
white man slumped in a doorstep. He said, proud loud and clear: “Wanna fuck?” I
picked up my step and decided to forgo the humanity-recognizing for the next
couple blocks. Oh, and before I got to this venue, I got a little dinner at a
place nearby, Portland City Grill, I’d been to once before. It’s at the top of
a very tall pink building and has amazing views of Portland’s admittedly good
views. It’s a classy sort of place, with a piano player. I sat at the bar,
looking for some happy hour because I’m a cheapskate. A glad-handing man moved
in all suave-like: “What’s an attractive woman like yourself…” blah blah. He was
80 if not 90. Ex-surgeon, ran 30 marathons. When I said I’d been into running lately, he
actually looked me up and down to assess the effects, under my baggy gold lame
top – don’t ask, it was gold and it was beautiful. I couldn't decide if he was a lonely demented old man or an egomaniac, so when he had the unimaginable effrontery, him 40 years older, to ask for my number – I immediately it handed over to him
in a confused haze. No dates yet ;) The crowd at this show
was devastatingly young. There were metal detectors, purse checks, body pat
downs, etc. Because, racism. Except the crowd felt more queer than anything
else—plenty of whiteys, it is Portland. The guard actually laughed at my bag,
well, it was a backpack, and snorted something like ‘this one’s bookish.’ So,
to reaffirm all of the ways I was not suited for this event, I retreated to the
back bar and did a little work while I waited. The show started with a DJ doing
promotion for Maliibu Miitch that was just a little extra. Her name emblazoned on
the backdrop. I recognized what he was playing, generally—90s hip-hop mostly (oh
those silly nostalgic kids). And then he started doing some scratching, which
enthused me because I just watched the movie “Scratch” as part of my only-music-documentaries
nunnery. Maliiiiiibu Miiiiitch finally took the stage. She has fast flow. There
were four men doing unclear things on the stage, well except the DJ who was
backing her up. I couldn’t understand her lyrics, but what I did understand
wasn’t groundbreaking - youtube videos confirm this. I did enjoy when she
talked between songs. Then she had all the ladies in the crowd come up to
twerk. I was disappointed that it was more boob-jouncing than proper technical twerking,
which I’m obviously an expert in.
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