With the thunder cracking and the sky spilling above our heads, we made our 25-minute walk to The Blind Pig. We arrived shortly after the first act, Captwolf, had begun. The audience was what you would expect for a rainy Sunday night. There were about a dozen or so people standing around the stage, but this didn’t hold Captwolf back. They went at it with their three-rappers and one-dj group of self-described “young n***** from the D.” Despite the audience being meager, numerous members of it really got into Captwolf’s short, explosive, and often relatable rapping. I personally enjoyed them, but also found their sound to be just like every other rap group trying to make it. Their song “Fuck Captwolf” was particularly good, and their self-awareness is something they should cling onto.
The next opening act, HXLT, reminded me of one of the reasons I love going to see bands perform: to not only hear the music I’ve heard before, but also to discover new bands to enjoy. One of the best ways to find new music is to see who your favorite bands are performing with–generally, bands try to tour with bands who they think their audience would enjoy. Oftentimes, the opening bands are a pleasant experience, but every once in a while they really knock it out of the park. HXLT belonged in the latter category. They opened with their song “Why,” which with its powerful bass and drums, reverberated through your feet, up, up, up your legs, shot through your bowels, and stung your spine. The song oscillated between that and softer, sing-song-y parts, so when the drums kicked in, it was a jolt to the system. His other songs were similar and gave the impression of being sounds you had never heard before–he managed to produce both good and unique music, a rare feat for an opening act. HXLT himself was often jabbering between sets, commenting on how great this crowd was (to which I can attest) and about how he was “discovered” by Kanye West (who, to no one’s surprise, also loves HXLT’s sound (trust me when I say it sounds exactly like the kind of thing Kanye would love)). His set was a bit long, and during some of the slower songs, the audience seemed to zone out (the audience had been growing steadily during this time to a respectable size), but whenever he played something and just went wild, he got us right back in the zone. He was also the first opening act that I ever saw get an encore and the first time I saw The Blind Pig use their lights properly. Furthermore, he was obviously someone who loved being on stage and loved having an audience to play for–when your an audience member, it’s good to feel loved. It would not surprise me to see HXLT experience a rise in popularity sometime soon–he has the kind of sound that is just waiting to take off.
Like I said, the audience had grown during HXLT’s set and while the show was far from packed, this was a blessing in disguise. The room was filled enough that it did not feel like you were the only ones there or anything, but individuals had enough space that movement was not impeded–in other words, there was room to dance and as the show went on, this would prove to be important.
Briefly, before I go on, let me describe the two kinds of musicians I’ve noted: the “talkers” and the “performers.” To the former category belongs people like HXLT, who talk into the mic between songs and tell stories or jokes or just about how excited they are to be playing. Generally, I prefer this category because they make you feel like you really belong, like there’s this connection between you and them and this concert isn’t just something you’re seeing and hearing, but something you’re feeling, experiencing as part of something greater than yourself. Okay. Maybe that’s a little melodramatic, but it feels good to be appreciated. Now, the latter category, “performers,” is where I’d place Young Fathers. These are groups who know they’re putting on a show, who know that you have come here to witness them. They are more professional, in a way, but also risk looking like musicians who do not care whether or not you exist. Previously, these kinds of musicians have left bad tastes in my mouth–but Young Fathers proved different.
Their set started with the drummer alone, just beating and building, beating and building a wall of sound. Without a word, Young Fathers jumped right into their set. Their songs have an ethereal quality to them and walk the delicate line between beautiful and jamming, political and danceable. They make you feel good about yourself without being feel-good songs. The Young Fathers played with perfect seriousness, they played like we were paying them to play (which we were), yet, somehow, it fit with the nature of their songs. They aren’t rockstars or rappers, they aren’t screaming into microphones or screeching guitar riffs, they are just these dudes playing this weird-yet-wonderful music. And it worked.
While not a direct part of the performance, the audience also played an important role in the night’s success. They were the best audience I’ve seen. They didn’t jam into corners, they didn’t crowd the stage, they didn’t push and shove–they danced. Occasionally, I would turn my head away from the stage and watch the audience just groove and twist for a moment or two. They all moved differently, uniquely, and without a care for who was watching or judging, but the same rhythm moved within them all, the same beat guided each, and while no one was counting the steps, they somehow formed a cohesive whole, like snowflakes in a blizzard. Honestly, they were beautiful to watch and to dance along was transcendent. When the Young Fathers ended their set on the song “Shame,” everyone danced like the world was ending.
We walked home in the drizzling rain and by the time we got back to our dorm, I was shivering, but not from the cold.
