Fucking Tyga. His tiny half-Asian, tattoo-laden hot ass can sure pull in a crowd! Your usual NBA jersey-donning, YMCMB cap-wearing offenders filled the Prince Band Room in Melbourne en masse on an uncomfortably hot night to watch him perform this past Friday.
The sardine-packed size of the crowd was surprising considering how little promotion there was for his side show (off his support of the Nicki Minaj tour). Priming the stage was a female DJ who failed to leave us wanting more. Perhaps it was due to the extension of her set by an hour on account of Tyga’s (fashionably) late arrival, or maybe it was her shit mixing skills? Regardless, a hot night and impatient crowd is never a good mix. After being hurled consistent abuse for the better part of an hour on account of my “sasquatch” height and its inappropriate location at the front of the stage, I was feeling disillusioned in general for the show.
An hour late, Tyga made his grand appearance. With his first step on stage the sea of people behind me hurled forward, leaving my ribs bruised but providing an energetic atmosphere. Donning a giant Versace chain, a 187 beanie and some sexy tattoos, I became less pessimistic. Soaring through some rapid verses with his quick-paced flow and token raspy and snarly voice, he made a good opening. Segueing into his verse from “Muthaf**ka Up,” he had the audience pulsing. A quick costume change and he was back in some Thriller slash Delirious inspired red pants which are generally a no, but with an unbuttoned shirt revealing the majority of his ink, he neutralized that bad situation. Soon the shirt was off and he was getting into his more popular tracks. With the first notes of “Faded,” the audience soared up again. Off to the side of the stage was Tyga’s well-trained bodyguard, eyeing off the crowd in constant alert. Not even the infectious beats of “The Motto” could stir a slight head nod out of this guy.
“The Motto” naturally turned into “Rack City.” Its deep, throbbing beat creating an industrious feel sent the crowd wild. With profound lyrics detailing the lavish lifestyle of Las Vegas, Tyga ingeniously tells the story of the strip club. Girls overeagerly flooded the stage for this moment and said bodyguard kept them in check. No one was given an advantage—including the bra-clad, leopard pant-wearing chick twerking on Tyga. The second she got too close, our bodyguard interrupted the intense ass-clapping with no hesitation. With the ladies still on stage, Tyga said his thanks and bid his Melbourne audience adieu.
Check out the clips below: