Sure, Vice Cooler is a pioneer. But now everyone is hip to this type of shit. How can he possibly stand out from the crowd of spazzy bedroom-disco laptop MCs that are so ubiquitous these days in Echo Park and Downtown? Maybe he came first—but the dudes he inspired are pretty good, and we get bored so easily. Oh, but he’s the chief—Hawnay Troof at the Smell was a zealous display of sheer personality. How does Vice stand out? By doing this thing bigger, and stronger, and with more confidence than anyone else. He reminds me of Marjoe Gortner, this awesome sham evangelist from the seventies who could make congregations do anything. Vice started the show, despite an initial audience of four, with a totally sincere “What’s Up L.A.!?!” before launching into a hyperactive fit that would last for the rest of the set. He exploded into religious fervor as the crowd grew, fighting against our apathy for the first few songs (”North Hampton was louder. Do you know where that is?”) but eventually pulling everyone onto his wavelength, commanding us to come closer, sit down, stand up, and yelp. At the end of the show, Vice said it was time to “get real” and paid tribute to a slain friend en route to an inspirational message: “Through doing a show, you realize the importance of the moment. The music is just the thing to help bring it on.” At that point I realized that he isn’t just like a preacher, he is an actual preacher—and tonight he turned the Smell into his own big tent revival.

—Geoff Geis