So, the Cee Lo “show” at LIV last night was one helluva soul-sucker. I don’t need to describe what you already know about Miami clubs. It’s a trashy scene. But I will offer this analogy: LIV is like high school. It’s cold, there are hall monitors, there are cliques, sluts and assholes rule the roost, you need a pass to go anywhere. “Duh,” you’re thinking, “Whatdya expect?” True, I should have known better, but I went because I hoped Cee Lo would make the $12 Fiji worthwhile, and because we wrangled VIP passes (which meant we received a relatively mild glance of disdain from the Guardian of the Rope).
Alas, Cee Lo’s rotund appearance only completed the circle of cynicism. Festooned with rented diamonds, he sang (maybe lip synched) over recordings of “Crazy” and “Fuck You” and then, after a final perfunctory “Miami is my favorite spot on Planet Earth”, hunkered down in booth 12. I won’t say more, because last night’s apocalyptic shit show deserves a three-volume work on the decline and fall of Man, not a blog post. Here are a few photos, which we got under explicit threat of being “bum-rushed” by the security guards.