Insane Clown Posse was one of the most disappointing concerts of my life. Strolling down The Hi-Fi’s steps, I looked forward to a joyful night mocking all the gimpy Juggalos and Juggalettes, intentionally screaming WHIP WHIP, then going home and drinking alone to Lizzie McGuire. I hoped the gig would suck, my prejudices would be confirmed, and in my review I could use the “Juggalos? I thought my editor said there’d be gigolos!” joke that I couldn’t quite get to work.
Boy was I let down. Unfortunately, it was one of the most INSANE, fun, and bizarrely wet performances I’ve ever experienced. God I loved it so much; it was terrible. The night started well – there was plenty to make fun of. The final support act, I believe he goes by the name Boondox, spat this lyric out: “She’s really into pain/I’m glad she came…into my life.” The men’s toilets were clogged by a circus of clowns applying make-up. The burly man wearing eyeliner next to me in the crowd looked like Game of Thrones’ Khal Drogo. I can work with this…or so I thought.
The moment Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope smashed onto the stage, the Juggalo mating calls of WHOOP WHOOP were infectious. You probably know of Insane Clown Posse through their feud with Eminem, their viral song Miracles about their yearning to understand magnets, or the oddball subculture that they’ve cultivated. One of the crucial aspects of this fanbase is the obsession with the soft drink ‘Faygo’. Faygo, it turned out, became the only instrument onstage. After almost every song, several bottles of the soda were fizzed up and jizzed onto the mosh. You don’t understand. Juggalos in the back were even getting nailed. This was a fucking frenzy. The crowd was an impressive sight: arms up, eyes closed, mouths open. It was, in a strange way, cultic and religious.
The truth is this wasn’t a typical hip hop show. I’ve seen rappers like Immortal Technique come out onstage with DJs, 15-man entourages and other bullshit. The ICP setup is just two dudes rapping to a ferocious, pulsating backing beat (and some freaky dancing clowns). Their entourage was the crowd. The Posse, it seems, is not limited to those onstage – evidenced by the final song where ICP invited the crowd onstage. And that’s what made the atmosphere of The Hi-Fi unlike anything I’ve been involved in. Juggalos are obsessed – almost everyone dresses up, dances however they like, and scream with utter comfort – because of this proud, non-judgemental, familial culture they exalt. Outside, haters gonna hate. But inside, I dare you to find an audience more unified, fanatical and friendly.
Insane Clown Posse and their fans are an easy target, because you can hate them for no real reason other than the fact that they’re the Other. They’re dressed as clowns, they’re “losers”, they’re “weird”. But goddamn do they know how to party. WHOOP WHOOP!
BY NICK “WHOOP WHOOP!” TARAS
Loved: WHOOP WHOOP!
Hated: WHOOP WHOOP!
Drank: WHOOP WHOOP!
