Sometime between the songs “Pressure” and “maybe” Colson Baker, born in Houston/Texas, raised in Denver/Colorado, flips the mood switch in one fell swoop. The man, who celebrated loudly with “MGK” chants in a Berlin Waldbühne that was about two-thirds full, is addressing his properly dressed-up mid-twenties audience for the first time:
“Hello Berlin, exciting to be here!” Machine Gun Kelly greets the German capital and its people. Exciting for him, who refers to his German ancestry and reveals to loud jeers that “BERLIN” is now the “highest selling” solo show outside of the USA. To add a few jokes that it was actually he himself who had bought the most tickets. And like a union representative, he wants to know: “WHERE do you work?” To calls from the front rows (there is no “Row Zero” here) then the reply from fans who are apparently employed at BER: “Ah, interesting ; AIRPORT ….!?“
You can tell that the 33-year-old, who in his six albums since 2012 has turned almost every genre from Eminem rap to youngstyler metal into a poppy power pack, is looking for a good connection to his fan base. Baker is listed as a “rapper” in the chronicles. At the Waldbühne, the roughly 100-minute show is more of a pop-punk performance, complete with mosh pits and waving arms from right to left. And with the ballads, the cell phone lights glow.
Along with his sleek touring band, which includes blonde-haired vice-guitarist Sophie Lloyd from the UK, Baker strives for warm-hearted fun. Good, clean fun, by a show darling with a tattoo on top and a dyed thatched roof hairstyle, on which a playful fluffy hat is enthroned in places.
Whether it’s “Concert for Aliens” or the hangover saga “Drunk Face”: Here a not-so-young Hollywood character makes a splash for young people. Certainly not a gourmet sound for cultural critics, but a furious ride through his (rock) repertoire for a mild early summer evening.
To “I Think, I’m OKAY” the orchestral opener from The Verves “Bitter Sweet Symphony” (anno 1997) sounds from the speaker towers. A little prevention from the ancestors, and also a nod to the sound post that the Kelly ouevre wants to dock across genres and musical epochs. A pot of colorful punk, finely cooked in MGK’s West Coast studio.
If you didn’t know from the German and international gossip press that Mister “Mainstream Sellout” (the title of his current record) is currently in “love chaos” with his wild wife Megan Fox, you could call him the little, likeable brother of the big ones American stadium punk family hold.
“What will happen to your wedding?” the worried tabloid recently asked. Immediately and with relish, the whole litany of the cheating and reconciliation aria on Hawaii between Colson and Fox is frothy. The colorful Ami newspaper “People” has researched that the omnipresent two are in no hurry after their constant fight to storm down the aisle in a pink Lambo. Insiders whisper of “reconciliation”, but the turquoise diamond rings remain in the safe for the time being.
All of this may always resonate with Machine Gun Kelly as a VIP aura. And certainly some of the Berlin visitors came to the Waldbühne precisely because of that brightly colored fame vita.
But live on stage, Kelly’s fleeting glamor glitter rolls off like the man was coated in rock ‘n’ roll Teflon.
For core or punk hardliners, the brisk party with all sorts of stage gags such as the drum pyramid or the plastic hand in Kelly’s hand, which serves as a microphone holder, might be too much “kid heavy metal”. But the open-minded, neutral observer feels well entertained by MGK’s live ride, which features all sorts of tempo changes.
Towards the end of the performance (which, as always, has to end at 10 p.m. on weekdays in the Waldbühne!), a young woman with a Marusha double bun and airy summer clothes dances all alone in the upper tiers to the baller beats and lets her arms row obliviously. Colson Baker aka Machine Gun Kelly would have liked that if he could have seen it.