ABOVE: Disashi, Eric, Travis, Matt
ABOVE: Travis, Matt, Eric, Disashi
ABOVE: Matt, Disashi, Travis, Eric
Gym Class Heroes
Culture Room
Ft. Lauderdale
February 28th
By Ashley Rousseau
It’s another hot, humid day in Ft. Lauderdale. The time is 5:15 and already there is a line stemming from the door at Culture Room. Tonight Gym Class Heroes, an indie hip-hop band that hails from Geneva, NY, has come to spread their distinctive blend of hip hop and rock.
Somehow indistinguishable from the crowd , Matt McGinley, the drummer awaits his time to shine unnoticed by oblivious onlookers. Twenty feet to the right, Travis McCoy strolls to the door of the club. He’s dressed in a baggy grey long sleeved shirt, well fitted jeans and gaudy Nikes that are louder in color than the decibel of the words that flow from this soft spoken emcee. His clothes are an accurate reflection of him and the band’s music, complex and full of contradictions. The incongruities don’t stop there.
GCH has set out on a quest to amalgamate two seemingly different music scenes. The eclecticism of the music reflects itself in the types of fans who have shown up. From indie to hip hop kids, the bourgeoisie to the ghetto, everyone finds common ground with GCH.
This union wouldn’t be possible without the band having first encountered Pete Wentz, bassist of Fall Out Boy and owner of the label Decaydance, in June 2004. After hearing GCH’s song “Taxi Driver,” which artfully uses names of Emo bands including Fall Out Boy to construct a creatively cohesive song, Wentz knew he had to meet this band. Eventually, GCH would be the first band signed to Wentz’s label, an imprint of Fueled by Ramen.
More recently, they have released their second album on Decaydance entitled As Cruel as School Children. That is what brings GCH here to Culture Room. When the show finally begins, the melting pot of flavors and colors is relieved that the anticipation is finally over.
Littered with witty banter, brief discussions of school-related topics and band conundrums between songs, GCH performs most of the current album, a few songs off Papercut Chronicles and a song or two from one of their previous albums, For the Kids.
While mild mannered in conversation, McCoy and fellow Heroes engulf the stage with their confident swagger and self-proclaimed sexiness. McCoy, who switches between rapping and singing during parts of the show, answers critics who try to pigeonhole him. “I’m not a rapper. I’m not a singer. I’m just me,” he says.
The set ends with “Scandalous Scholastics,” a song about fulfilling a childhood fantasy an inappropriate tryst with a teacher. Then the lights dim, dissipating lights cascade over the audience before the surrounding area turns to black. The show may be over, but this is only the beginning for Gym Class Heroes
Email Ashley your thoughts: outloud@outloud.com
 Travis Disashi Travis Disashi
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