100 gecs are music made by and for the terminally online; they exist in corners of the internet where the socially, culturally, and geographically alienated can find each other and revel in who they are. But despite the way 100 gecs' music brings such people together, the duo — Chicagoan Laura Les and Angeleno Dylan Brady — proved there's no analogue for a shared live experience with a kaleidoscopic performance at the PNE Forum on Friday night.
The PNE Forum was a fitting venue for 100 gecs — with chipped and peeling wooden stands, an unforgiving concrete floor, and a haze-filled atmosphere, the small 3900-capacity arena was neither the flashiest nor most comfortable venue.
But 100 gecs thrive in the uncomfortable; they turn the messy and dingy, the meat-headed and cringey, into their playground. They indulge in a smudged palette of jockish rock genres from the 2000s distorted through clipped and chiptuned filters of the 2010s. The only thing 100 gecs are serious about is not being serious — fans obliged this M.O., strutting around the PNE Forum dressed as wizards and cowboys or wearing tracksuits and Crocs, transforming the venue into a scene from Do What You Feel Festival.
Beyond their expressive fans, 100 gecs were sensory overload from the opening THX Deep Note. At the iconic sound's swallowing climax, a blinding flash of white light flooded the arena. The audience, who'd already been quaking with anticipation for the duo to hit the stage, roared knowing this signaled the turntable scratch-marked "Dumbest Girl Alive."
Unsurprisingly, 100 gecs' catchiest earworms — mostly from their splendorous latest album, March's 10,000 gecs — received some of the most rousing receptions: metallic punk riff-rocker "Hollywood Baby," stoner snack anthem "Doritos & Fritos," kids' song bop "Frog on the Floor," and God damn it, yes, ska-punk smash "I Got My Tooth Removed."
And though fans became unglued for the hyperpop brilliance of "xXXi_wud_nvrstøp_ÜXXx," the pitched up gallop of "Stupid Horse," and the glitchy gushing of "Ringtone," no short shrift can be given to the less melodic moments of the show, including the deep-throbbing dank of "What's That Smell," the dubstep breaks on "Torture Me" and the static shock of abrasive rap joint "Hey Big Man." The beautifully absurd "The Most Wanted Person in the United States" was a highlight of highlights if only because it united the entire arena in shouting, "I got Anthony Kiedis / Suckin' on my penis."
Similar to these harder-edged cuts, the six-song home stretch of 100 gecs' set was loud as all hell with death metal growls. The teeth-rattling bass of "Money Machine" shook the reverberant wooden stands, while Brady and Les' final song, "gec 2 Ü" featured tender Autotuned coos, their potentially calming effect obliterated by intense strobe lights.
"You'll never really know, know-know-know, know-know-know / Anything about me, me-me-me, me-me-me," 100 gecs sang on "Mememe." But they left the audience knowing each other a bit better, with everyone bringing their most unhinged self to the party. 100 gecs turn historically problematic genres on their heads, deflating their cologne-reeking male bravado by jamming them next to lyrics about keg-standing frogs, addiction to energy drinks and losing it all at the horse race. In reclaiming various mutations of punk, hip hop, electronic music, and metal, 100 gecs share radiant, indulgent joy for everyone — a joy best experienced together, offline.
The PNE Forum was a fitting venue for 100 gecs — with chipped and peeling wooden stands, an unforgiving concrete floor, and a haze-filled atmosphere, the small 3900-capacity arena was neither the flashiest nor most comfortable venue.
But 100 gecs thrive in the uncomfortable; they turn the messy and dingy, the meat-headed and cringey, into their playground. They indulge in a smudged palette of jockish rock genres from the 2000s distorted through clipped and chiptuned filters of the 2010s. The only thing 100 gecs are serious about is not being serious — fans obliged this M.O., strutting around the PNE Forum dressed as wizards and cowboys or wearing tracksuits and Crocs, transforming the venue into a scene from Do What You Feel Festival.
Beyond their expressive fans, 100 gecs were sensory overload from the opening THX Deep Note. At the iconic sound's swallowing climax, a blinding flash of white light flooded the arena. The audience, who'd already been quaking with anticipation for the duo to hit the stage, roared knowing this signaled the turntable scratch-marked "Dumbest Girl Alive."
Unsurprisingly, 100 gecs' catchiest earworms — mostly from their splendorous latest album, March's 10,000 gecs — received some of the most rousing receptions: metallic punk riff-rocker "Hollywood Baby," stoner snack anthem "Doritos & Fritos," kids' song bop "Frog on the Floor," and God damn it, yes, ska-punk smash "I Got My Tooth Removed."
And though fans became unglued for the hyperpop brilliance of "xXXi_wud_nvrstøp_ÜXXx," the pitched up gallop of "Stupid Horse," and the glitchy gushing of "Ringtone," no short shrift can be given to the less melodic moments of the show, including the deep-throbbing dank of "What's That Smell," the dubstep breaks on "Torture Me" and the static shock of abrasive rap joint "Hey Big Man." The beautifully absurd "The Most Wanted Person in the United States" was a highlight of highlights if only because it united the entire arena in shouting, "I got Anthony Kiedis / Suckin' on my penis."
Similar to these harder-edged cuts, the six-song home stretch of 100 gecs' set was loud as all hell with death metal growls. The teeth-rattling bass of "Money Machine" shook the reverberant wooden stands, while Brady and Les' final song, "gec 2 Ü" featured tender Autotuned coos, their potentially calming effect obliterated by intense strobe lights.
"You'll never really know, know-know-know, know-know-know / Anything about me, me-me-me, me-me-me," 100 gecs sang on "Mememe." But they left the audience knowing each other a bit better, with everyone bringing their most unhinged self to the party. 100 gecs turn historically problematic genres on their heads, deflating their cologne-reeking male bravado by jamming them next to lyrics about keg-standing frogs, addiction to energy drinks and losing it all at the horse race. In reclaiming various mutations of punk, hip hop, electronic music, and metal, 100 gecs share radiant, indulgent joy for everyone — a joy best experienced together, offline.