Grand Buffet

Two fool MCs and one Discman. A simple set-up for a little show and Pittsburgh's Grand Buffet made it work. The crowd was thin and the room was stifling but MCs Lord Grunge and Grape-a-don bopped, high-kicked and dropped rhymes like clowns on a mission. Their recipe for funny is one part physical, in the true fat guy/thin guy comedy tradition. Between Grunge's straight-faced, heavy-handed spiels and poses and Grape-a-don's lanky leaps, kicks and lily whiteness, Grand Buffet have their basest comic bases covered. Then there's the mental side of the act, from inter-song yapping about freaky fellow Americans and the duo's newfound religion and musical direction — born-again Satanism — to their dumb-ass, smarty pants lyrics from Sparkle Classic and Cigarette Beach. The duo was physically weighed down by the oppressive heat and humidity but their set was still solid. Cheese-ball synths and wide beats, slapstick laughs, a U.S. government dissing session and songs about candy bars, Batman and a few more of their favourite things made local peeps happy, but Lord Grunge clinched the gig by launching an impromptu dance party. Most girls backed off as the sweaty lug boogied into the crowd to the beat of the mini-disc, but one fun-loving lady dropped to the floor to show off her best B-girl-isms. That's a party.