Giant Step blogger, Rehes, AKA Seher Sikandar, steps into the San Francisco Clift to catch Fitz And The Tantrums plus DJ Smash with her camera and her pen.
Where in the hail have I been? I know, I know. It’s been way too extra much long. Practicing the intricacies of hermitism can be an exhausting task.
Re-assimilating into society at a swanky Giant Step show was just the fix. What? And it’s a super live band from the west coast? There with bells on.
The most recent installment of the SVEDKA Vodka Sessions by Giant Step took place at the stylish Clift hotel in my beloved San Francisco. You walk into a dimly lit mod lobby with comfy earth tones and cosmopolitan visitors that certainly aren’t from anywhere around town. I mean, I was feelin a little classy in my black hipster jeans and hoodie. Shiiieeeett.
There was even this humongous ornate chair that was about eight feet tall. It’d fit at least six point five models – or me and my homegirl. Dazzling.
To start, San Francisco’s own DJ Smash held it down with an upbeat selection of Friday night tunes as the crowd amassed. Prance-city.
Fitz and the Tantrums was the feature for the night. Four suited up instrumentalists banged out some funky old soul, whilst the towering Fitz crooned and whipped his white streaked bang a little harder than madam Willow might know how just yet. HAY-SOOS. That mofo is SO. TALL. He stood up on a table and my 5’ 3 3/4” ass felt like I had to duck and hide for cover. Whip it good he does, though – more attitude I’ve seen out of a dude performer in a minute.
Then there’s the stunning Noelle Scaggs who I’ve just absolutely adored ever since I heard her work with Quantic and The Rebirth a few years back. I can’t say I’m really a fan of baby blue, but she worked the hell out of that shimmery baby blue pencil dress of hers. A commanding presence with pipes to match, Scaggs is a more than worthy counterpart to the fiery Fitz. Sass and smiles for days.
Folks of all ages and backgrounds were decked out in a myriad of ensembles – from jeans and t-shirts to lightweight cocktail attire, the fine thangs of San Francisco were gettin it whichever way they knew how.
As the high-energy performance neared its end, Fitz ordered the audience to get up close and personal – into the photo pit – and crank out a few gyrations for ol’ boy; music lovers obliged, clinking glasses and rocking the frick out in the same breath.