Two worlds collided at Moon last night and if either side could be declared the victor, though a separate room and sound proof walls meant there wasn’t much of a battle, it would have to be the hip-hop camp.
More
- Club Guide
- Moon Nightclub
- Beyond the Weekly
- Cassidy on MySpace
Moon’s regular Tuesday night house music affair held court in the Satellite Bar with men in dark cloaks and other worldly face paint serving as glow stick distributors and an appearance by new Palms resident DJ Paul Oakenfold. But with ample walking/breathing/dancing room on the small space’s dance floor, clearly the masses stuffing themselves into high-speed elevators were headed somewhere else. Pan right. Oh, there they are, in the main room.
Moon’s lofty center room was bursting as host of the evening element of the Secret Agent Sleepover – a Russian spy-themed pool party, club night and after hours marathon that despite its poor news timing (Remember that brief war in Georgia?) managed to conjure up a few pin-striped fedoras, a fake mustache, a crew of secret agent shirts and some Men in Black suits. It also conjured up a rapper from Philly, though just what Cassidy has to do with Eastern European spy networks, I’m not sure.
No matter. In front of a clamoring crowd and just 20 minutes after he was scheduled to take the microphone, the 26-year old rapper stepped onto the top of a booth and began his set. Dressed in an oversized white T-shirt, Yankees cap and with diamonds weighing down both wrists, Cassidy rifled through a half an hour of his radio hits: “I’m a Hustla,” “Hotel,” and of course, an exuberant rendition of this summer’s club anthem, “My Drink N’ My 2 Step,” which included some simple dancing, (2 step, I presume?) and swigs taken off a bottle of Patron.
“I wrote this song called ‘Hotel’ with R. Kelly, cause I want the ladies to know to come to my hotel,” Cassidy told the crowd pulsing eagerly at his feet. After which he pulled a fan up on stage to dance with him briefly, before handing her off to a member of his entourage playing back up along with a line of dancers clad in duds by local clothing sponsor Billionaire Mafia.
As his set wrapped up and he bid Moon adieu, a trail of women followed the bodyguard-surrounded Cassidy off the club floor. It seems the “Hotel” message came through loud and very clear.




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