Skrillex show at Surrender keeps the clubbers hopping

I'm standing here in Surrender nightclub, and it's so packed, a dancing girl in front of me keeps rubbing her booty all over me.

"I'm going to impregnate this girl through her clothes," I think. But I don't.

I look up and see DJ-producer Skrillex. His face resembles a young Corey Feldman's. He's wearing his trademark black-rimmed glasses, and his long black hair flows over his right shoulder. A cigarette is dangling from his mouth.

His music set is more fun than any DJ gig I've heard in 2011. That's fortunate, since he was the biggest name among DJ-producers this year.

By the way, it seems he's dating reality-TV actress Holly Madison, the topless star on the Strip, who used to live with Hugh Hefner before she briefly dated illusionist Criss Angel.

That's beside the point, except Madison is swirling on top of the go-go platform onstage, next to actual go-go dancers wearing winky-blinky fashions.

At the moment (1:15 a.m.), Skrillex (Sonny John Moore, 23, from Los Angeles) is playing his remix of La Roux's "In For The Kill" (my favorite single of 2010).

While the song spins, Skrillex puts his right hand on his laptop and his left hand on his mixer, to blend in live tweaks of his signature dubstep melodies and rhythms -- which sound akin to an elephant, made of skillets, singing through a chain saw, like this: "Vrrr!-wrow!" but a million times better than that description.

There are so many 22-year-old clubbers in Surrender -- screaming and singing their heads off while waving bat-sized glow sticks made of foam and lights -- that the mass of humanity is constantly rippling. This is like standing in a San Diego sea swell, 20 feet from shore.

If you don't understand Skrillex, here's a wonky, three-paragraph breakdown:

1. His version of electronica isn't a repetitive thump-thump for 10 minutes at a time, nor a simple pop-DJ formula. He has a tremendous sense of pacing and dynamics.

2. So, any 30-second Skrillex stretch could be: A) a pretty melody of female vocals; B) reggae-inflected dubstep rhythms that make you think of vacation and weed (I don't smoke weed, bosses); C) synthetic bass tones forming melodies and rhythms that are cool as hell; D) a piano pianissimo; E) an old-school punk-rock melody; F) a drum-and-bass beat; G) a contemporary hip-hop sample; H) a bunch of other stuff.

3. Therefore, he keeps his short songs (three to five minutes) continually changing in melody and rhythm. You could say that's an ADD approach, certainly more so than in popular remixes by the likes of Deadmau5 and Kaskade. But then you'd have to say Mozart had ADD, too, because Mozart also liked to cram three songs into one.

But now at 2:30 a.m., I need a break from all the pushing and shoving, so I inch my way backward until I end up outside in the club's pool area, along with hundreds of other clubbers, who are chatting and listening to the music. The pool area is all heat lamps and high heels.

Some people look at TVs above pool bars to watch a live video feed of Skrillex performing inside.

Two guys hold up cameras, pointing them at these outdoor TVs, to take a video of a video. Instant memories.

"This is my last show in Vegas in 2011," Skrillex says on his microphone, nearing 3 a.m. "Let's make this happen." (He returns to Surrender on Jan. 21.)

Then he launches into his most entertaining song, "First of the Year (Equinox)," followed by his most popular hit, "Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites."

Both songs sound fantastic.

Skrillex leaves, and another DJ takes over the booth. Many of us leave the club.

Near the exit, I eavesdrop on three groups of clubbers.

One woman shakes a finger in her ear, an attempt to get the ringing out, I suppose.

One man tells his dude friends about how he had to throw a few elbows to jostle for position during Skrillex's set.

I don't hear anyone talking about the music -- discussing favorite songs or deconstructing the melodies -- as fans frequently do when exiting shows by traditional indie, rock and pop acts at concert venues.

But this isn't a concert venue. This is a nightclub -- the elite Surrender at Encore at Wynn Las Vegas, no less. The music isn't secondary to partying and hooking up, but the music is concurrent with that party vibe.

What I'm saying is: I couldn't find anyone to strike up a music-dork conversation about what we all just heard.

But I estimate my body was touched by 200 other bodies in two hours of mashed-together swaying. That counts for something.

Doug Elfman's column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. Email him at delfman@reviewjournal.com. He blogs at reviewjournal.com/elfman.