Deadmau5

The Cosmopolitan, Sept. 2

In the packed Chelsea Ballroom, everything fell into place—glitch beats, glow sticks, gravity-destroying dubstep bass booms. It sounded—more importantly, it felt—like it was all meant to be, even the inglorious part where I’d waited until well after midnight for Deadmau5’s music to savage my asking-for-it eardrums. It did with a vengeance, the Meowingtons Hax tour ensuring no human body, not even this jaded hipster, could keep from responding to the Canadian DJ’s electro-house music. From the powerful one-two intro of “Where’s My Keys” and “Bad Selection,” to the senses-shattering laser-gun blasts of “Maths,” to the moment when a wraith-dressed Paris Hilton crept onstage during “Ghosts ’n’ Stuff,” to the stomping near-finale of “Animal Rights,” Labor Day Weekend couldn’t have offered anything better. I strived mightily to find a disappointed face in the strobes. I failed.

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