CSS >> made their way up to The Independent in San Francisco on Sunday night to play the first show of back-to-back nights in The City.
‘Hello, we're CSS...from the internet’, Luisa Matsushita aka Lovefoxxx, declared as she and her cohorts hopped on stage. She wore a white nylon jumpsuit that over time came off little by little. By the time she was snarling ’looooooooove and shit’ she was down to skintight leopard biking shorts that went all that went up to her belly button and a tube top drenched in sweat.
Although it was chilly outside in San Francisco, inside The Indpendent was sweltering inside. The heat most likely generated by CSS.
Lovefoxxx's modesty was maintained by long black hair that extended all the way to her hips. She kept referring to her beautiful long hair the whole night in a very tongue-in-cheek way and its plastic sheen made me think it was a wig.
She was supported by the other Luiza, also in biking spandex, as well as Iracema and Ana who both looked like they just left a Motorhead concert, looking uber cool in their black boots, black jeans, and black t-shirts with sleeves cut off. They were beautiful, sexy, and a bit intimidating.
Luisa enraptured the crowd with a combination of awkward adorableness and a sexual command that made her move like a tiny Japanese Brazilian Jim Morrison. Her dance moves were clunky, at times obscene, but always absolutely endearing and incredibly sexy. I must admit, I had to remind myself to appreciate CSS’ compelling musicianship instead of constantly picturing them having slumber parties, pillow fights, taking baths together and teaching each other how to kiss.
The girls rocked the whole night, each of them jumping from instrument to instrument just as their songs jumped from pop songs with a heavy metal chorus like ‘Let's Make Love And Listen To Death From Above’, to full on ass-thumping party songs like ‘Music Is My Hot Hot Sex’. Their songs are fresh, interesting, positive and clearly made with love and excitement.
The new stuff had a touch of reggae influence in them, creating visions of a dark dank, smoky Jamaican dancehall, full of sweaty black bodies writhing around each other. As they wrapped up the show with ‘Alala’ I was glad I decided to indulge in an evening of ‘Girl Power’.
Carmichael
