In case you are living under a rock or are on a self imposed twitter ban, you have certainly heard about the Chainsmokers spell check slip up. Closing Saturday night’s show at PPG Paints Arena with an extra special goodbye (see here ) was the icing on the DJ’s-as-concerts cake.
Driving to the show I had very real questions about how the Memories…Do Not Open Tour was going to work. Logistically speaking you got two dudes and tables. Yes, their fire is burning up the charts right now, but most hits feature an actual singer so…
The night went a little something like this: DJ K?D opened for the opener. Cue the couple over excited concert goers to get in and dance. The telephone at PPG keeps ringing and the woman keeps saying “The Chainsmokers take the stage at 8:55”. Couple drunk kids stumble in and make their way to the front row!! You can smell the dope. Kiiara is the actual opener. She clearly partook. She forgot to put on pants. So in fishnets and a camouflage jacket polished off with a big ol’ pair of boots this kid sang her sparkly eye shadowed heart out…about her “Fuck Boys”. She said that’s all she gets. Which leads one to wonder if she actually put some pants on…. Everyone wonders if local girl Daya will take the stage. She does not.
Finally the crowd is full (ish)/foolish? You decide. EDM they say. No way. Electronic Music for the masses? Maybe.
However you can quickly see how these boys are making bucks. It’s all sparkle and awe. Strobes and smoke. Pyrotechnics and streamers. Catch is I can’t really decide if Andrew Taggert and Alex Pall are poking fun at their own kind or have some sort of evil genius marketing strategy. Either way the first 20 minutes of the show are a staged little skit with the boys texting and face timing each other about showing up for the crowd. Taggert’s boy band good looks are front and center. The two then jump to the sky high booth for the better part of the show. Fuck you’s are exchanged and encouraged. Then the mixing begins. Fortuitously the crowd knows all the words so they filled in for the lack of singers. The gig winds down with the city spelling fiasco. Was it worth it? Maybe. Was it interesting? For sure.