RiFF RAFF and the Endless Medley: Cranberry Vampire Tour at Gabe's
by Lauren Salloum
Photos by Hayley Anderson
RiFF RAFF at Gabe’s.
Hayley Anderson for Fools Magazine
I arrive at the doors of Gabe’s at 5:30 pm, half an hour after they’re said to have opened. The sign read “Doors open at 6.” Damn you, Facebook. I come back to Gabe’s at 6:30 pm and wait in line with a crowd that can only be described as sedated and eclectic in their dark clothes, subtle tie-dye pieces, and fur jackets. The crowd is not what I’d expect from typical Riff Raff fans who more so resemble Instagram baddies and college spring breakers on the Gulf Coast. The omens of tonight already make me feel out of place and anxious in my now-vintage Marianne Williamson T-shirt and bubblegum pink Nikes.
Riff Raff, also known by his alter ego’s name Jody Highroller, is a Houston-born rapper who got his break on the MTV reality show From G’s to Gents and gained notoriety for his Vines during the onset of his music career. Although relatively unknown to the mass population, Riff Raff is recognizable for his zigzag side beard, colorful cornrows, and a flock of body tattoos which include BET, Bart Simpson, MTV, and NBA iconography.
Despite my congested nose, the weed smell of the beloved venue greets me in an unsurprising familiarity. It seems too early in the night, considering it’s barely 7 o’clock, but a long workday calls for some R&R: rest and Riff Raff. I think I can feel the adrenaline of the night ensue in my heart, but it turns out to be the loud bass reverberating through the room. Everyone awkwardly shifts in place and stares around while waiting for the first act. The DJ’s remixes of Kanye West and Kendrick Lamar beckon me to the front and dance but my constant wariness gets the better of me.
Iowa-grown artists Matt Da Tatt, Soultru, and 26 Ent. grace the audience one after another with their ensemble of pop, rap, soul, and angsty SoundCloud songs. The average age of the audience seems to be a decade too old to appreciate these artists for their talent or follow their commands to jump with them. The emcees commend a few enthusiastic people for their commitment to dancing and graciously reward them later in the show with T-shirts from rap group Jae Mansa.
The pace picks up with a performance by Wets & Sueno, a more mellow rapper with fresh lyrics and a cool nonchalance that has girls screaming at him about his sex appeal. The real pivot in mood comes with the DJ playing a remix of Waka Flocka Flame’s “No Hands” which burns the bridge of hesitation and forces concertgoers to choose: start acting more upbeat or continue to lazily sway. Most choose the former.
Lil Weep and the Crybabys, Iowa City’s very own Lil Peep tribute band, performs with an energy that can only be accredited as a knack for entertaining and self-confidence. Lil Weep and his posse manage to keep the audience hooked long enough for everyone to forget that Riff Raff is still nowhere to be seen after almost two hours of performances. They keep me engrossed as I wait for a cover of “Beamer Boy”-- which never happens. A clever trick to keep the audience actively listening.
Three acts that were not listed on the FaceBook event perform next. DJ Halli, a music trio who describes themselves as being from “Ebola and civil war,” feature an upbeat and patriotic performance with West African instrumentals. Afterward, Jae Mansa performs, winning the audience with free tees and an invitation for people to come dance on stage with them. What happens next are three hesitant girls, an enthusiastic 26 Ent. band member, and a guy lighting a joint all dancing to varying degrees.
Topanga Jack comes last before the main act. He announces himself as Riff Raff’s brother and performs in a lighthearted manner until he points out and yells at a disrespectful audience member: “F**k you, we do 100 of these shows and no one acts like you. Get this f**king guy out of here.” Topanga Jack’s mood abruptly changes and becomes more agitated, telling Gabe’s security to “do their jobs and go get Jody” in between rapping.
It’s after 10 at this point. Three hours of performances and no sign of the man whose name is sprawled on all of the neon orange shirts in the back. Topanga Jack is trying to keep us going. Just when it feels like people are losing hope and heading for the stairs, the man himself appears.
Decked in ski goggle-style sunglasses, neon pink and yellow accessories, and a mullet, Riff Raff makes his way downstage, acting with a disregard that suggests he’s on time and hasn’t kept us waiting. He performs alongside Topanga Jack, singing iconic songs such as “Tip Toe Wing In My Jawwdinz,” “DOLCE & GABBANA,” and “TiP TOE 3.”
Riff Raff spends most of his performance either standing on a block and grabbing onto the rafters for support or moving around the stage with a few dance moves and an air of hesitation about getting too close to the rambunctious crowd. He acts as if he’s more into his songs than the audience but not enough to show any real enthusiasm. His energy levels are no match for Topanga Jack who keeps the crowd--and show--going with his louder voice and sharper moves. The most refreshing part of Riff Raff’s performance is when he swings his water bottle out into the crowd, giving myself and others a respite from the heat of crushing bodies.
The most Riff Raff engages with the ground is when he comes out of his shell and touches our hands across the stage. I briefly hold onto his neon yellow and pink leather glove, not because I’m a real fan who’s just met their god for the first time, but for the novelty. I’m promptly shoved back by a group of angsty emos who forget that this is a crowded event and can’t escape being ran into.
To be completely honest, Riff Raff doesn’t look super into his performance which might explain his tardiness, but no one seems to notice as they continue to mosh to every song. I’m one for a good moshing, but the appeal of getting shoved around by 30+-year-old men with open containers of beer is minimal.
People had mentioned before the show that Riff Raff’s notorious for stalling in order to cut back on his performance time, but he manages to stay on stage for 45 minutes before leaving out the back door. Late to the party, early to leave. Topanga Jack announces that there’s a meet and greet in the back of the venue in ten minutes, but I don’t count on Riff Raff to show up to that on time. I figure touching his hand is as good a meet and greet as I need and call it a night--mostly to give my back a break after four hours of standing but also to end interacting with the slew of reckless concert goers.
