M.I.A. fails at "Steppin' Up" during HARD Fest in New York City

July 24, 2010, at Governor's Island

By Ahmed Mori
Published: July 30th, 2010 | 12:00pm

On glossy flyer paper, the lineup for HARD Fest NYC was theoretically solid and seemed worthy of the investment. However, despite a name that lends itself to sexual double entendres, HARD simply lacked Viagra with performances that were as spotty as the cell phone reception on Governor’s Island. Here's our rundown of the hits and misses:

Despite the small crowd near the Harder Stage, The Death Set spun Usher/techno mash-ups until their fingers were arthritic in an attempt to animate the audience before the hedonistic Ninjasonik appeared on stage, sans DJ Teenwolf. The hyperkinetic duo forced medics to stand by in the event of a heat stroke as they made concertgoers dizzy with kaleidoscopic visions of Telli Federline’s awkward plaid shorts and denim vest get-up.

After insisting they’d "never grow up" for nearly two minutes, Ninjasonik put aside the Peter Pan syndrome to perform inanely raunchy lyrics over a sample of Elton John’s “The Circle of Life." The twosome moved from glorifying PBRs to selecting candidates in the audience to fake fornicate with before offering “Somebody Gonna Get Pregnant," their oh-so-ironic rendition of a safe sex anthem. Ninjasonik’s compulsory punk ethos proves they are too self-consciously riding the hipster rap wave that fizzled out nearly a year and a half ago.

Rye Rye took the stage with a tattooed smile so intense it was surprising not to see a Colgate logo sewed onto her neon spandex top. The rapper’s gang of backup dancers scampered across the stage in green and orange tanks looking like Jamaican flags waving in the wind, as M.I.A.’s self-proclaimed protégé hop-scotched her away through a Blaqstarr-heavy set list.

The B’more Club begum was accompanied by eyewear fashionistas Coco and Breezy, and even held her own during a Apatow-esque, crowd-stealing impromptu dance by an awkward white man and his pineapple. In the end, the bouncy nineteen-year-old star worked every corner of the stage while providing a live how-to dance performance for the moist Urban Outfitters crowd.

As if HARD wasn’t already fond of lo-end sounds, dubstep pioneers Skream and Benga took the stage shortly after Rye Rye’s energetic performance and unleashed a wobble bass blitzkrieg on an unsuspecting crowd who seemed to grapple with the sound at first. Granted, the fog machines didn’t help to clear the musty gasps of air mustered amidst the gyrating crowd—and the foul-mouthed MC did little more than refer to his “lost marbles"—but Skream and Benga’s switch-happy tirade on a pair of Pioneer turntables conjured up images of dingy South London clubs of dubstep lore.

Despite a drawn-out set mired by myriad blips, the duo exemplified the sort of sonic psychiatry that makes dubstep such a live-friendly genre. By the time Skream dropped his remix of La Roux’s “In For The Kill," the audience was waiting eagerly at the prescription window.

Brooklyn duo Sleigh Bells is the product of a meteoric rise that’s becoming more common in such a blog-friendly industry. As a result, an eleven-track album stuffed with two and three minute songs doesn’t make for a terribly long set, which was accentuated by having to follow the longest act of the evening. In addition, the noise pop pair’s gain-heavy style was lost in translation on a stage hooked up for bass aficionados, thereby resulting in a lackluster experience.

Nevertheless, the vivacious songsters were at the top of their game throughout the allotted forty minutes. Unfortunately, the sudden introduction of electric guitars provoked two brawls in the audience, a sight Derek E. Miller must recall from his earlier days with post-hardcore band Poison the Well.

The gimmicky South African satirical hip-hop duo Die Antwoord stormed the stage shortly after Sleigh Bells in outfits that were seemingly designed by Keith Haring afflicted by carpal tunnel syndrome on Microsoft Paint. Their endearing fascination with ninjas, rubber masks, and trailer park hairdos are akin to a translucent layer of veneer over an unfocused and amateur product.

Die Antwoord’s unorthodox antics were nevertheless embraced by the ecstatic crowd, who peered at the trio as if enthralled by a Rosetta Stone computer course whenever MC Ninja explained South African potty slang or recited brash lyrics like “I’m the ninja in charge / I can’t even believe my d&*% is so large." The Casio keyboards, raunchy green-tinted videos, and rapid fire twaddle was charming enough to justify an encore, at which point the quirky trio exhausted whatever lactic acid remained in their bodies.

The sound techs forgot to turn down the bass following Die Antwoord’s Fruity Loops harangue, and the lo-end boost created a discomforting illusion as M.I.A.’s power-tool ensemble and Burka-clothed back-up vocalists took the stage. The rumbling became increasingly unpleasant as the singer began performing, side chaining her vocals and rattling on about the 8-bit graphics on the screens behind her.

M.I.A.’s reverb-heavy attempts to gain the sound tent’s attention were unanswered. She was eventually forced back onto the stage after threatening to play the remainder of her set in the audience if the sound problem was not corrected, at which point she grew visibly irritated and asked for tequila repeatedly.

Noticing M.I.A.'s about-to-blow temper, Rye Rye and company exasperatedly filled in by asking VIP pass-holders to dance for the grumpy spectators. The Sri Lankan rapper then proceeded to spit on a photographer and launched a damaged microphone into the audience.

After ten catatonic minutes, M.I.A. repeatedly demanded enough gunshot sounds to mobilize police units throughout Downtown Manhattan while asking the audience to “shout out what [they wanted] to hear really f&*%^#g loud." At some point, the lethargic vocalist dove head first into a grievous rendition of “Boyz/World Town." Droves of spectators stumbled out of the field under the pouring rain shortly before Maya ‘peace’d out,' sparing us the distress during the long walk to the ferry.