You have never seen true, unrestrained energy until you have seen the fifteen violently ecstatic members of BROCKHAMPTON all smiling and dancing like NSYNC on a tiny tiny TINY stage.

Picture this: A line wrapped almost six blocks behind a general admission venue that holds upwards of 1,000 people. All the twenty-somethings are wearing their coolest t-shirts and rattiest shoes in preparation for the greatest night of their life (or this month, at least). Everyone is jittery — smoking cloves and humming Bleach to pass the time standing out in the cold surrounded by strangers.

We get inside, stand in the middle, and pray that the crowd somehow shoves us closer to the stage.


As the opening lines of Milk ring over our heads, our whole group is pushed into what vaguely resembles either the 3rd or 10th row (depending on who you’re asking and how many elbows they took to the throat to secure that spot). There were shoulders jabbing into my chin, excited hands pulling out my hair as they threw their arms up, and at least five guys stomping on my feet at any given time.

It sounds awful… but it was oddly magical. The energy on stage was transferred to the crowd with no hesitation. They danced, we danced — the whole venue was a part of something that was happening simultaneously for the first and last time. We would never all be together again, squished up so super close, staring with wide eyes up at 15 goofy rappers. We would never be this young again (ahhh!!!! so cheesy. so true.).

Every song was a new vibe, a new chaotic scene of disorienting verses and messy moshpits. Very punky, poppy, hippity-hoppity, sweaty, dizzying… pure ENERGY!!!! There were the funky beats of Zipper and Boogie and the sweet sultry vibes of Bearface’s solo set. There were dance sequences that made me laugh out loud and harmonies that made my heart hurt.

When BROCKHAMPTON says that they are reinventing the phrase “boy band”, they really mean it. They are a collaborative unit — separate identities fused into this amazing beautiful eargasmic… boy band. They are nothing like our world has seen before. TRUST. ME. They are a capital force that lends themselves to vulnerability. They show every icky-gooey part of themselves in their music, and everyone in Emo’s that night could feel it and empathize with every lyric.

If you’re not following this chaotic post (honestly, I’m still reeling from this show. SWOON. I’m sorry) — then go out to your car right now. Pick an album from their Saturation Trilogy; any one of them is pure magic. Blast the first song, take your phone off of shuffle, and listen to the entire album. Sit in your driveway; take the music in. Breathe in the 90’s beats of Hottie and Teeth; listen to every word that Kevin Abstract painfully exclaims and sigh at JOBA’s heart-melting melodies.

Get to know BROCKHAMPTON. Looooovvveee all up on BROCKHAMPTON. Rap with, sing with, cry with, dance with BROCKHAMPTON.

They are, without a doubt, undeniably, TRULY… the Bee’s Knees.


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