When I say you’ve seen nothing like Kanye West’s fan-freaking-tastic “Glow in the Dark” tour, believe it. I'm still recovering from the second of two sold out shows at Nokia Theatre L.A. Live. I even ran into the guys from Vampire Weekend in the lobby.

Lupe Fiasco opened, sounding like a hip-hop version of Coldplay—and that’s not a dis. Anthems like the hit “Superstar” are more Chris Martin than Ludacris, and his increasing sales numbers prove it to be a shrewd move.

Pharrell Williams and N.E.R.D. turned it into a rock show with mosh-ready new tunes from their forthcoming “Seeing Sounds” album, Skateboard P calling out Lindsday Lohan and Samantha Ronson from the stage. Lohan had already received a hero’s welcome walking through the audience, stopping to hug an obviously enamored little boy that ran up on her.

Rihanna proved to be the potentially perfect pop star, only the right collaborator(s) away from dethroning Gwen Stefani. She’s still relatively new to the game, but like Fiasco, she’s a fast learner.

 

West (here backstage in his GITD gear) played Stanley Kubrick, presenting an elaborate and ambitious 2008 rap odyssey somewhere between R. Kelly’s “Trapped in the Closet” and Earth, Wind and Fire’s legendary stage show. The only person onstage, West still managed to own the audience with his non-stop barrage of hits (and a crashed spaceship computer named “Jane.” Don’t ask). His show was rather amazing, and "Glow in the Dark" is nothing less than the best tour to come through L.A. this year, right up there with Ye's "big brother" Jay-Z and Mary J. Blige's outstanding "Heart of the City" tour.

See for yourself when the tour returns to town on June 7 at the Staples Center. It'll totally be worth whatever scalpers are charging for tickets, since this one's been sold out cold for weeks. 

PS: And don’t leave the show without your complimentary copy of Kanye’s new self-actualization book, “Thank You and You’re Welcome.” Again, just trust me.  

—Scott T. Sterling 

 

I’m sure it’s happened to every law-abiding Angeleno. In fact, I’m pretty certain it’s part of this town’s naturalization process to completely make a fool of oneself in front of a celebrity, loosely-defined. But in my many years in L.A., I’ve managed to avoid being reduced to a yammering buffoon in front of some high-on-his-horse muckamuck and his entourage. That was until this job…

So, this is my story (and I’m sticking to it). It’s Metromix HQ, and our crew gets together to talk about the haps. Of course the sequel to “Harold and Kumar” is brought up. A feature? Is Kal Penn available? Does anyone know John Cho’s people?

Cut to later that evening. I’m meeting friends at Ce Fiore in Little Tokyo. While yogurt would suffice on any other occasion, my body is starting to mutiny from lack of sleep and eating a single granola bar for breakfast, lunch and merienda. A civilized, I-need-to-not-be-walking-as-I-eat-this meal is in order; and just my effin’ luck, Haru Ulala is across the street from Japanese Village Plaza.

I enter, and who’s the first person I see, sitting right by the door?

 

Yep, that dude. John Cho. When did the god of humiliation comedy take over the script of my life? Of course this would happen when I’m tired and hungry and feeble-minded. But professional duty overrides my better judgment and I disturb what otherwise would have been a quiet, anonymous dinner of grilled mackerel and yakitori with his lovely wife.

I won’t go into miserable detail. It’s as if the spirit of Ben Stiller possesses me with the vengeance of all 5000 of his movies. (Yeah, it was that bad.)

As it turns out, Cho is a gracious dude and grants me an interview. We end up talking a lot about food—and groupies who accost him in Little Tokyo. (You can find the interview as well as more stuff about the Harold & Kumar sequel online.)

All’s well that end’s well. I guess I was in a comedy after all.

—Jiyeon Yoo