Recommendations of the Editorial team
Pants can hardly sit deeper than with Lil Yachty. And hardly anyone can do lethargic raps. Bring a huge hall to a boil with minimal effort (and subonian bass storm), which was almost motionless for the rapper from Georgia.
His friend and sponsor is another caliber.
Because Tyler The Creator, who enters the huge, in the green light of the sold-out Uber Arena at 9:30 p.m., not only bears an impressive imagination and a record-breaking Afro, he knows how to conduct and use his anarchic enthusiasmed audience like a sound body.
Tyler Gregory Octoberma is one of the most important and most original artists of our time
Tyler marches across the stage in a kind of sedated moonwalk, his glate hand gives a gravity point of view to the right and left, where fans in fur hats, shorts and white socks sing along to the text. And to the aggressive-depressive tracks of his current album “Chromakopia” Pogen-the hip-hop moshpit wipes like a green sea.
Tyler Gregory Octoberma is one of the most important and most original artists of our time. He copes with almost two -hour performance in front of 17,000 people completely without it without even becoming boring for minutes. Which is due to its incredibly wide oeuvre – seven albums, which in their stylistic diversity beat a bow across African -American pop culture. In the concert, Tyler taps many of his songs, especially hits such as “Earfquake” or “I Thought You Wanted To Dance”, his (very diverse, very young) audience is breaking out briefly, then it continues through reggae, soul, punk rock particles.
That is wonderful. But Tyler’s enormous power is also due to his performance. It is divided into two in Berlin. First, the California rapper gives the hotel pagen general with ultra -wide shoulder pads and a disturbing mask half -hidden. He struts over the large main stage, fire and sparks, spraying shots, his songs tell of pain and self -doubt, his body counteracts them with a kind of military exerzierrite.
He gives up after a few tracks. Tyler sits on the edge of the stage to the beautifully thrusting and rather suggestive “Judge Judy” and lets his legs dangle while a huge stage is sinking over the audience, over which he will walk to a stage island in the middle of his fans.
“Shout Out to the Few Black People”
It is furnished like a living room. Tyler’s famous vintage travel suitcase are stacked there, a floor lamp, an armchair, a shelf, a small Hammond organ, a turntable, to which he strolls and leaf through his own albums, finally pulls out one and rests “Igor”, accompanied by the screeching of the fur cap. It gives the term “house party” a new meaning. Tyler no longer wears uniform, but black loafer and white socks, a French head shirt over the T-shirt.
“There’s so many white people here, it’s crazy,” he says. “Shout Out to the Few Black People.”
One of the few direct comments that evening. At some point he stripes his shoes and lies on the sofa, sings when lying down, everything is as choreographed as it is casual. Whether he whipped the hall with “Sticky” (in which fans sing along with singing along and throw in Poznan) or everyone falls into the arms at “See You Again”-wide-wall entertainment, which feels intimate and close. Great art. And when his white shirt also buys up in the vertebrae of the wind machine, against which Tyler throws himself like the Michael Jackson des HipHop, the picture of the perfect pop performer is rounded off.
He finally goes over the bridge to the big stage, a reprise, a link to the first part of the evening, with “St. Chroma”, he started, now he ends on the new album, and sends his fans home with the wonderful “I Hope You Find Your Way Home”.