Picture this: adolescent energy at maximum level, costumes and blue face paint to match the band, hands perpetually in the air, foolhardy attempts at crowd surfing, every last lyric proclaimed in distinctly teenage-like devotion. And you pretty much have the idea of Brockhampton’s two nights of sold-out shows at House of Blues.
The opening track “Madness” off Lucius’ 2016 album Good Grief lulls about wistfully until it hits the powerhouse chorus, where singers Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig contemplate: “Maybe / I’ll drive myself to madness.” But they’re not quite sure about the logistics of such a feat. Drummer Dan Molad pounces on cue and guitarist Peter Lalish’s string-skipping is the perfect, simple end to the song, like a light dessert after a heavy dinner. The indie pop dishes that Lucius serves up in this delectable album seamlessly transform from the dramatic to the fun and playful — like, for instance, with the addictive “Almost Makes Me Wish for Rain,” a song that’s pull-your-hands-to the-sky good.
Long-beloved Canadian punk band Propagandhi recently released their seventh album Victory Lap and, musically speaking, the title isn’t facetious. The self-titled track is a vicious adventure and a crash landing of an album opener, with “Letters to a Young Anus” speaking to the wannabe rebellious youth about the perils of expressing such insubordinate views. Despite over three decades in the game, Chris Hannah, Jord Samolesky, and Todd Kowalski haven’t lost a step and, with the fairly recent addition of guitarist Sulynn Hago (who cut her teeth in the Tampa punk scene), they’re ready to face whatever shit 2018 throws at them.
Tyler Okonma lives up to his “Creator” moniker in every sense of the word. Since gaining notoriety as part of the legendarily weird alternative L.A. hip hop collective Odd Future, Tyler has released four studio albums, founded a golf-inspired clothing line, formed a sneaker partnership with Converse, and created TV shows for Viceland and Adult Swim. Yet despite proving himself capable of just about any creative endeavor at 26 years old, Tyler’s most delicious creations can still be unearthed within the limitless boundaries of his music. His most recent album, Flower Boy, is meditative, self-reflective, and aware — a relieving departure from the younger artist’s reputation for controversial, oftentimes thoughtless lyrics. The album, produced by Tyler in its entirety, showcases his noticeable growth as both an artist and as a human being.
