Although there wasn’t as much controversy as Sydney’s show, Tyler and his 19-year-old protégé Earl Sweatshirt still gave a packed Palace plenty to holler about, in a good way. Unfortunately about ten minutes in, the heel came off my fucking shoe. I’m talking high heels. Do you know what the Plan B for that scenario is? Yeah, me neither, so I danced on one tiptoe the whole damn night (it was fine, I worked out some new moves). It didn’t make things easier that security wouldn’t let us put our bags on the floor (“It’s a fire hazard” – give me a break, your face is) or that Mim decided when they played Radicals she’d hurl her bag at us and leap into the nosebleed section. But the Odd Future boys were total professionals, delivering everything with a ton of energy and laughs, and getting almost every cat moving while heckling those who wouldn’t. “Why didn’t you move? There’s like four of you motherfuckers right there,” Tyler pointed into the balcony, just so we knew who to attack later when we were all hopped up on misogyny and violence. He also gave us rules to make the skank circle a happy place, and recommended that if we didn’t know the words to any of the tracks that we scream along anyway. Honestly, some of the fanboys in their green Golf caps (pretty cool bit of merchandise there) were belting along impressively with every single word, and the show finished out with all of us screaming “wolf gang kill them all”. Bags on the floor should’ve been the least of the venue’s worries. Top show.
BY ZOË RADAS
Photo credit: Ben Clement
LOVED: Earl is so cute. His speaking voice is like a sweet little kid.
HATED: It was over at 11.30pm – bit too short.
DRANK: Something out of a plastic cup.
