Fiasco wows crowd with 'go go gadget show'

When a male performer takes his shirt off on-stage, it usually feels like needless narcissism. If you're really having that much trouble exciting your fans, you've got bigger problems than your sex appeal.

But when Lupe Fiasco went shirtless at the end of his set Saturday, during the explosive "Daydream," it felt nothing less than inevitable.

Fiasco's performance in the Jorgensen Center for the Performing Arts started with a bang - the electro-blast "Kick Push " - and screamed outward from there. From the moment he hit the stage, the Chicago-hailing rapper was like a bolt of lightning through his band's funky blue thunder - spinning, kicking and shouting his way through a baker's dozen of tracks.

If he hadn't taken the shirt off, it probably would have burst into flame.

"I think his energy made the show," said Tim Adams, a 1st-semester pre-kinesiology major.

There's something delightfully refreshing about a musician who's clearly having at least as much fun performing as the audience has watching him. Fiasco didn't just have a powerful, commanding stage presence - he had a charming, humble showmanship, mixed with a bit of well-deserved ego, and together they turned Saturday's show into a spectacle.

"He was really into [the performance]," said Mike Pyle, a 1st-semester exploratory major. "His energy, his flow - great songs, too."

Fiasco demonstrated an impressive ability to control his energy, too: after skating across the stage with bombastic fury, he could stop on a dime and turn that power into a driving, razor-sharp flow, notable especially in the standout "Go Go Gadget Flow."

He certainly knew how to work a crowd, using showstopper "Daydreamin'" to push the already-high energy level into the stratosphere. Fiasco spun from his band to the crowd like a manic conductor, beckoning the joyful noise from each section of the audience.

"He had such a good stage presence," said Rishi Kothari, a 7th-semester computer science and engineering major. "He's improved greatly since [I last saw him] - better song selection, too."

While Fiasco stole his own show with his stage antics, his band's musicianship shone through in the song selection. Bluesy piano intros, shuffling swing-set interludes and frenetic, upper-register guitar solos lent an air of controlled chaos to the set list, which featured material from his sophomore release "The Cool" ("Hi-Definition," "Hip Hop Saved My Life") to hits from his 2006 "Food and Liquor" ("Sunshine," "Kick, Push").

The ensemble was a focused version of the "kitchen sink" attitude, with Uncle Chucc on electric guitar (and soulful vocals), hype man Bishop G, a bassist, two keyboardists and DJ Simon Says on the turntables. Even those in the audience who weren't interested in hip-hop got their fill of entertainment, as the night became a soul-infused rock show whenever Fiasco wasn't blazing his lyrics across the theater.

"I felt like his live music was jazzier [than his studio recordings]," said Fairfield University sophomore Gina Caldwell. "The show had a supreme energy level."

Opening for Fiasco were electro-rock group Hey Champ and rap group G.O.D., who were comprised partially of UConn students. Simply put, "Hey Champ" worked like an opening act needed to, and G.O.D didn't. Hey Champ drummer Jon Marks' driving vigor and guitarist Saam Hagshenas' walls of sound kept the audience warmed up and rocking for Fiasco, while G.O.D was practically booed off stage.

Fiasco and his band could have actually been seen bopping along to Hey Champ's act, perhaps showing Fiasco's reasoning behind signing the group to his record label - he loves them, too.

And before the arguable apex of the night - radio hit "Superstar" - Fiasco took a moment to thank the crowd for showing up.

"This is not a concert, this is not a show," said Fiasco, as the roaring crowd bathed in the lights of the auditorium. "This is a reciprocation of all the love my fans have given me my entire career - and I'm just giving a little bit of that back."

Really, Fiasco, it's fine - we still owe you, especially whoever caught your shirt after you tossed it into the crowd.