Say what you will about Richard “Buck 65″ Terfry and his gritty off-kilter hip-hop, but at The Satellite there were no half-assed measures when it came to giving his audience exactly what they wanted.
One man armed with one laptop, one turntable and a collection of dance moves (that at times suggested he was either blind-drunk or melting) was able to work the crowd into a frenzy of hand claps and woo-hooing five minutes into his set by uttering that one statement of steely determination every live music fan wants to hear: “I got all your requests right here… and I’m going to play ALL of these requests!”
A Buck 65 show is like a journey through the multicolored, jumbled-up lint from every corner of the MC’s mind. Dog shit, strawberries, the zombie apocalypse and even odes to Michael Jackson; there are few subject matters Buck 65 won’t try to deliver over a solid beat with that trademark purpose and confidence.
Clearly his brand of unorthodox free-wheeling hip-hop flavored with more than just a dash of eccentricity won’t be for everybody, and if you aren’t cheering on the Buck 65 camp by the end of this gig you probably never will be.