Chaz Bundick is to hot blasian nerds what James dean is to slick-haired white dudes. So when I decided to pay money to see him live in Melbourne—the other side of planet Earth because he’d never play in Ohio—I expected to get the greatest Toro y Moi experience of all time or at least a once-in-a-lifetime hand slap from the stage.
I managed to gain front row access by standing through the opening acts. There were three. I almost peed in a discarded pint glass next to the stage in desperation. But luckily