It’s New Year Day, 2013. The last few notes of “Language” linger in Chicago’s Congress Theater as Porter Robinson exits the stage. Nineteen days from now Papa Roach will take that same stage.
I tell you this not to drive ticket sales for the aging metal band’s upcoming show, but to help paint a picture for those who haven’t visited the Congress. Its monstrous dance floor, which will soon play host to a 3500 person mosh pit, has just accommodated an equal number of ravers. This venue has no bathroom attendants, no sparklers taped to $500 bottles of liquor, just chipped paint and plenty of space to jump.
And jump they did.