Since the release of his mixtape 1999, Pro Era headliner Joey Bada$$ has been a rising star in the independent hip-hop scene. Known for a throwback feel and master lyricism, the rapper gave me high hopes for his show at the Barrymore Theatre Wednesday.
The stage was lit from overhead and onstage was a hastily-made pressboard facade of a New York apartment. Given that the Barrymore resembles a school auditorium, this lone set piece instantly brought flashbacks to my grade school theater productions. This community center musical theme wasn’t at all what I had expected from Bada$$ and gave the impression that Pro Era had simply beat up some seventh graders and commandeered their production of “West Side Story.”
I eventually warmed up to the peculiar choice in stage setup as the almost childish backdrop provided an interesting juxtaposition with the shirtless men onstage who loosened my molars with their violent bass lines.
The seats of the Barrymore were barren, and a meager audience concentrated in the open area directly in front of the stage. Opening act Tre Money and his crew dropped a disappointingly generic 20-minute set, which they closed pandering to Twitter followers. This struck me as unprofessional in the same way a YouTube video is ruined once the “LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE HERE” window pops up.
Sincere Life, a Madison native, came up next. He began with a beatless freestyle that firmly established him as the new messiah of hip-hop. The grandaddy clock of hip-hop wound back as Tre Money’s millennial trap beats shifted to Illmatic-esque old-school tracks. Sincere’s flow was superb. It was sometimes difficult to understand his words, but it was clear from his intro that he can write. A rattling, driving beat played as all hands in the audience went up, like the gentle palms of Oliver Twist raised skyward as if to ask, “Please sir, can I have some more of these dank-ass verses?” As Sincere’s tracks mellowed out, the appreciative audience became docile and calm. Sincere left for the third opener, St. Paul native and Rhymesayer recruit deM atlaS.
deM controlled the crowd like a hip-hop drill sergeant, delivering lines with tremendous fury point-blank into the front row. His demeanor seemed purposely disheveled — never out of control but just loose enough for the audience to immediately relax. Perhaps it was the weed and cheap whiskey the audience reeked of, or perhaps it was the fact that deM’s stage presence is a cure-all lubricant to any hesitation in the audience. All hands bobbed up and down in rhythm with deM, whose music simultaneously boosted my self-esteem, slapped a grin on my face and made me want to rob a bank. It was nearly 10:30 p.m. by the end of deM’s set and the crowd packed in close for its beloved headliner. Other members of Bada$$’ group, Pro Era, performed assorted sets but enthusiasm waned as the audience tired. It’s clear many were impatient for Bada$$.
More than two-and-a-half hours after the show began, Pro Era retreated and Joey Bada$$ himself took the stage. His presence was the adrenaline this crowd badly needed; everyone stood up and crowded toward the stage. The whole crowd completed Bada$$’ lines without prompting as he hopped between sides of the stage, seamlessly giving out high fives and making eye contact with the front row as he delivered his tracks. His verse from A$AP Rocky’s “1 Train” got the audience amped as chiller tracks turned to bangers. Bada$$ acknowledged the considerably small crowd that assembled that night, yet remained unfazed. “Big or small, I’m still gonna go out,” he said. Bada$$ ended his set with “Survival Tactics,” which brought lung-rattling bass to the Barrymore as the crowd began moshing. As the track ended, Bada$$ and the rest of his ensemble came out and led the audience in a communal chant of “fuck police” to end the night.
Joey Bada$$ delivered a show on par with the quality of his recordings — that is to say, excellent. Despite the considerable wait for his show, the man controlled and interacted with the audience masterfully and kept the crowd grinning until 1 a.m. If his skill in this performance was at all indicative of his future as a rapper, then I can’t wait.
