An hour before his appearance on stage, it was clear that up-and-coming Florida rapper Denzel Curry would be fighting against the tide.

His 2013 debut album Nostalgic 64 was met with nearly universal approval, but Curry’s status of relative obscurity in the hip-hop genre was reflected in the shockingly low turnout for Thursday’s performance. Not even a free show could gather more than 75 students to mill about in The Sett’s dance floor, with more than half appearing entirely uninvolved with the concert altogether.

Opener Deniro Farrar had the unenviable task of being a litmus test for just how apathetic the audience in attendance was. Save for a hyped-up dozen or so people crowding the front row, the large majority of the audience looked like grade schoolers at a mandatory assembly. They exhibited only the minimum amount of interest necessary to maintain consciousness. Farrar’s desperate chants of “Let’s see them hands up!” brought feeble arms upwards for only a few seconds, which was more of a gesture of courtesy to the DJ than as an expression of interest.

The Sett’s audio system was maladjusted for all of Deniro’s set.The poorly balanced speakers diluted Farrar’s talent and raw, raspy vocals. Flat tracks, halfhearted bass and overzealous, ear-piercing treble detracted from the human element onstage. Regardless, Farrar’s Freddie Gibbs-esque flow and gruff and humorous interactions with the audience proved his worth as a live performer, despite the technological setbacks.

Denzel Curry’s appearance was the reinforcement this concert badly needed. He, a new DJ who could do more than press “play” on his MacBook, arrived and readjusted the sound system. The crowd on the dance floor doubled in size and the maniacal presence of Curry himself frightened any remnants of apathy from all concertgoers.

Lighters were sparked and hands were raised, unprompted by the DJ and a fledgling mosh pit was born, growing pleasantly violent in proportion to how angry Curry’s tracks get. However, the sound system re-emerged as an opponent to the performer — Denzel’s voice was extremely muddled by the microphone.

His words were only distinguishable to me because I knew the lyrics already. To a newcomer, Curry’s tracks would just sound like an angry man mumbling and humming to a track beat. Most of the crowd knew the words and Curry’s sheer energy made up for his shortcomings. He previewed promising new tracks, which feature driving trap beats while maintaining his signature production choice of vaguely chiptune melodies.

Curry ratcheted up the enthusiasm as the evening progressed. As his hit song “Threatz” came on to end the evening, all bets were off. Curry swung and thrashed onstage as if his pants were lined with rattraps, and the moshing crowd resembled a mother lioness going into labor as it convulsed and roared in sync with his music.

As the lights came up, it was evident that Curry had overcome the elements that had threatened to detract from his performance. The painful treble of the sound system had been cured and the crowd had evolved from a disinterested handful to a hyped-up mob. It’s hard to complain about a free show, and Denzel Curry proved his worth as a performer and showman when he tackled the obstacles The Sett presented.