Hey BK!: “Live” at the PC Music Pop Cube
Attendees had formed a line scaling the block in front of Brooklyn’s BRIC House and been ushered in on a red carpet, where hired paparazzi photographers feigned interest in each entry (flash bulbs not actually popping). The members of London’s PC Music collective made a slightly grander entrance from a white stretch limo that had been conspicuously blocking the street in front, a string of characters peacocking for probably the only crowd in New York City who would recognize them. It felt transparently but hilariously manufactured, and a little like attending a sweet sixteen party for a rich kid who demanded a “celebrity” theme. In over a decade of NYC art and music events, this was no doubt the most Warhol-y one I’ve ever attended. It was the future, and we might all be famous for 15 retweets.
A few drinks in, after momentary distractions like label act Thy Slaughter pantomiming a rock performance for two minutes in an adjacent TV studio, a stern British robot voice asked us to: “Please move into the main theater. The main theater is now open.” In there, a stream of performers would emerge, each bringing a slightly different shade of ridiculousness. Danny L Harle played with expectations immediately, faking for a second with a string section in “Staff” t-shirts, as if to mock anyone who expected “real” instrumentation from a live performance of conspicuously synthetic music. Hannah Diamond, Britney-ish in crop top and headset mic, lip-synced with choreographed dance moves next to rhythmic gymnasts. She addressed the crowd only through a cute computer anime avatar of herself that was projected on the very expensive seeming video screen that dwarfed the stage. Even in the flesh, she seemed to be made entirely of manga. Label head A.G. Cook, who’s looked suspiciously dorky in rare promo materials, was glamorous here, dropping huge beats like a plausible future headliner for some tent in Coachella. QT followed. She posed as the spokesmodel for her own real energy drink “Drink QT” that was not served on Saturday for obvious brand purity reasons. She went through a legitimately funny sketch comedy routine extolling its virtues (which gets credit for real subversion, given the night’s patrons), before her own mock-performance of “Hey QT”, the alarmingly catchy chipmunk jam from last year.
GFOTY’s character is the debauched, outrageous megastar to Diamond’s chaste 90s teen dream or QT’s slick corporate mascot. (All together, the subtly different shades of celebrity persona were more pronounced.) Her songs are the label’s most deranged Dadaist moments, spastic and borderline psychotic. It’s fitting that her set was the night’s most wild, least canned. She ground on the stage with $100 bills lining her bra. Those weird, inflated dancing car wash balloons shot from the floor at one point. She later produced a blow-up palm tree for some reason, before petulantly flinging it into the crowd. (“Ugh, this tree is disgusting!”) Shy ginger producer Sophie closed the night. Having worked on the latest Madonna record, he’s the one member who’s begun to infiltrate the actual pop mainstream with PC Music’s twitches. His set included new songs made with another actually famous pop star, Charli XCX. The yet-to-be released live recordings made their way to the Internet the next day, seeming like yet another goof on the lingering reverence for live performance as an “authentic” alternative to digital productions. For now, they sound like someone held up their phone to record someone else’s boombox.
The event wouldn’t have disproved a hater’s bias. Complaints about musicianship, ridiculousness, “fake”ness would be true, yet still miss the point by a few thousand yards. Was it performance art? A joke? Is this even music??? Yes. It was a stupidly fun version of all three.