Shakin’ My Booty to Sweet, Sweet JAKÜBI
It was my birthday this month (I celebrated the 6 year anniversary of my 21 run), and the incredibly hip celestial beings at Epic Records were kind enough to send us tickets to see Jakübi preform at The Crocodile. I am basically a grandma who lives in a perpetual sweatsuit uniform, so I felt *v hip*.
Jakübi is a delightfully playful gaggle of dudes who describe their sound as: an irresistible combination of jangly guitars, hip-hop beats and sailing synth rhythms. They. Are. So fun. And so easy to dance to. Seriously- I got my mom-dancing on SO HARD and I don’t even have children yet. These bros from Australia make me want to boogie my pants of in the best way possible, and I am in no way ashamed to show it.
I told Dan about our *hot date* and he immediately started listening to Jakübi in preparation. He is forever more prepared than me. We quickly became alarmingly addicted to the song Couch Potato and got pretty jazzed about seeing them live. Full disclosure here folks, I get invited to a lot of free concerts for review on the blog, and most of them are basically just somebody shrieking like a goat over the sound of a broken harpsichord in their creepy uncles basement. To say that I was excited to see a band that actually sounded good on Spotify is an EXTREME understatement.
Because we are grown ass adults and we’ve become wise with age, Dan and I prepped for the concert by taking lots of shots, drinking lots of beer, and ordering vodka RedBull’s (seriously who am I???). We also had fried avocado for dinner, which deserves its own blog post. The crowd was cozy at The Crocodile, but all seemed to be genuinely excited to see Jakübi. I usually go to concerts and feel obnoxiously uncool, but the crowd on Saturday was decidedly friendly and chatty. One woman asked what I did for a living and gave me a hug when I told her I was a blogger, so I think I really found my people in that bar.
Jakübi played a perfect set. They were dancing, they were smiling, they didn’t tell any weird stories (you KNOW that happens at concerts sometimes), and they seemed genuinely in love with what they were doing. Normally when people clap in unison I feel sharply nauseous, but they were so genuine about their *love for the music* that I clapped and booty shaked right along with them. That also could’ve been the vodka, but WHATEVER. Right as my feet started to ache from some aggressive toe-tapping, they wrapped things up. They were true show-mans, but also seemed wisely aware of their limits and they attention spans of their fans. It was an honor to get to see them for free.99, but I am not joking when I say that I will gladly pay prime pricing to see them the next time they venture to our cozy little rainy city.
Go forth and shake what your mama gave ya, you hooligan.