Tucked away on Freret Street, Gasa Gasa’s unassuming entrance is marked with a bold, black and white mural that instantly captures its alternative and griddy atmosphere. Walking in, you’re greeted by low lighting and an intimate room with a simple stage setup, and walls that have definitely seen their fair share of sweat and sound. The bar faces the stage in the back, serving themed house drinks with titles like “the Cop Killer” for $5 and the “Prickle-Tini” for $10. You can sit at the bar while still being close to the stage, or easily move up to the front. Everything about the curated atmosphere invites you to completely immerse yourself in the music and the moment.
The performing act for the night was John Maus, an art-pop visionaire with a unique sound which lays melancholic baritone over moody, baroque synth-pop songs with a familiar 80s feel. Maus was a force from the moment his first song “Bombs Away” began. In addition to singing, he embodied this strange disarray that gives his synth-heavy, dystopian music the feeling of someone alternating between a breakdown and a dream. Maus was fist pumping, headbanging like he was at a metal show, even punching himself in the head in rhythm with the beat (or, more accurately, out of rhythm, because why not?). Occasionally Maus burst into occasional yells adding to his cathartic frenzy ultimately a visceral experience for all.
Gasa Gasa’s setup is perfect for this kind of intensity. The low ceiling and tight crowd make you feel like you’re part of whatever fever dream he’s having. The mid-set slowed down a bit, but he pulled everyone right back in with “Touchdown” and by the time “Pure Rockets” and “Cop Killer” hit, the crowd was just as unhinged as he was. He didn’t say goodbye, but threw a fist up, and honestly, that felt more genuine than any “thanks for coming” ever could.
