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"I saw this dumb ass try to perform some bullshit where he was like look I have on a codpiece to show off my baby dick. FUCK YOU COUSIN DAN." — "MATH4EVA," Crib Notes
It's no mystery why people love to hate Cousin Dan: the moustache, the earring, the laser gloves, the codpiece — it's Saturday Night Fever meets The Road Warrior at an Urban Outfitters convention. By appearances alone, Cousin Dan defies the indie-cred mandate to keep it real. His style reeks of gimmickry executed by a laundry list of ironic electro party rockers — Chromeo, Har Mar Superstar, LMFAO, and Gil Mantera's Party Dream — before him. But Danny Boy's biggest misstep? In his parodied attempt to pander to women's desires, he reveals his own male chauvinist intentions. Sure, it's over-the-top silly, but obnoxious as a mofo.
Even when Cousin Dan is dressed in civilian attire — sporting a Dallas Cowboys cap and a button-down shirt while leaning against a smoke-stained booth at Manuel's Tavern — it can be difficult to separate the man from the myth. Sure, he's ultra confident and full of God's-gift-to-women conceit. But here's the caveat, it's only an act. As a Savannah College of Art and Design graduate with a degree in sculpture, Cousin Dan knows the value of provocation, whether the reaction is positive or negative. The notoriety he's garnered on Atlanta's nightlife scene is a result of his studied, tongue-in-cheek approach to working crowds, and critics, into a frenzy with his unique flavor. And what does Cousin Dan's keyboard-driven spectacle of lights, smoke, and man-sex on overdrive taste like? Something that defies comparison. "I am flavor," he declares with the same godlike swagger he brings to the stage. Confidence of such magnitude is absurd, yes, but that's the point. — Chad Radford
Killin it. So damn sexy
ooooohhhh, I'm so excited!! I can't wait to see them together!
come on man you know you got a bromance. you probably still rock that OutKast…