M.I.A.’s family circus at the Electric Factory and the Mad Pussy Afterparty were two entirely separate entities. One brought the bangers after an extended wait and was all about the effects: The trippy background visuals, huge signs promoting the afterparty every five minutes, the holographic spandex-clad chanteuse and her gyrating minstrels, Amanda Blank, identification of crowd members who made it onto the stage. It was a drawn-out but still transfixing appetizer for what was to come.

What came? 1/16 of those who attended the show. The rest found themselves lining up at Transit’s front entrance for a $20 cover, punishment for not snapping up $8 presale tix. At that price, you were actually paying to catch M.I.A’s performance there later. So by skipping the show, you ended up at one.

If you were a man of reason, you waited it out elsewhere, then went back to Transit at 2 and got in for free, setting yourself back the M.I.A./Diplo melodrama said to have gone down. Did M’s gang really put Wes in his place in the dungeons of Transit? Was the cloud of coke fucking with the perception of those who swear they witnessed a beatdown? What kind of mad pussy was there? Is making shit up when relationships end amicably and both exes are at the same afterparty the new Maybe-Philebrity-Will-Post-About-This?

Chime in with the low. And for those of you who made it to the after-after, wake up, it’s over.

This entry was posted on Monday, December 3rd, 2007 at 1:19 pm.