Danny BrownAuditorium Shores, Nov. 3
A draped black shirt over a skinny silhouette, hair defiantly asymmetrical, gap-toothed, wearing pointy shoes: Almost exactly a year after his breakout debut album XXX, Detroit rapper Danny Brown remains completely flabbergasting. He writes songs about Adderall, cunnilingus, and the combination thereof. A whole crowd of boring white kids united in purple light. "Poppin' these pills! Sniffin' cocaine!" On disc, Brown bounces schizophrenic between a pupils-dilated, pharmacy-raiding cartoon character and a ruminative, lonely addict well aware of the destructive path he's on. None of that dampened his 45 minutes. Here, "Die Like A Rockstar" is a rallying cry, not a foreshadowing. Danny Brown plants his feet in the center of stage, takes a deep breath, and shouts every uncomfortable joke in his catalog. A rough, unmusical scraping sound emerges from the DJ. It's centerpiece "Monopoly." "I'm a smart nigga that do dumb shit – in your baby momma crib not flushing after I piss." I'm sure if the doughy frat dudes considered the precarious character behind the heavy enunciation, smiles might be swallowed. Until then, Danny Brown remains a new favorite rapper, and misrepresentation can pay bills.