A$AP Rocky @ Festival Hall
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A$AP Rocky @ Festival Hall

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Mid-set, just after Wild For The Night, A$AP Rocky crouches down, stretching a luminous grin at the packed out concrete cave of Festival Hall. “That was amazing,” he says. It’s sincere. It’s sensitive. It’s still swag as fuck.

Miracle’s opening set includes an “Aussie Aussie Aussie, oi oi oi” chant. I’m serious. Let’s move past it. Rocky arrives on stage fuss-free. Despite the elaborate four-member live band set up and all of the extra trimmings, A$AP still raps over a backing vocal. No one blames him. Often it’s the production values in hip hop that makes listening to it so pleasurable. It’s tough to replicate it in the live setting. Even with the backing vocal and band, a messier, more chaotic thing takes place. It’s just as nice.

Rocky guides the crowd through a pretty broad array of his hits, focusing heavily on cuts from Long. Live. A$AP. (the previously mentioned Wild For The Night, in particular, with its machine-gunning dubstep synths, was pretty much the best party I’ve ever been to), but including a few choice tracks from previous releases (Purple Kisses, Purple Swag), as well as contributing his guest verses from a few singles he features in (School Boy Q’s Hands On The Wheel, ASAP Ferg’s Work Remix). A$AP Twelvy kills it on track Trilla. He takes his shirt off. Ladies clutch their pearls. Where the hell is A$AP Ferg? I suppose Sydney wins this round. Sub-tropical, snobby pricks.

The concentrated rush of mainstream attention directed towards Rocky seemingly brings with it competing sides of a persona. He is inflated with bravado, but still seems humbled by his mammoth reception. He is rousing, but still a little raw. At one point, he inspires the young crowd, insisting that “we are the future and we can start a revolution.” At another, he asks to “see some titties,” singling out a girl on shoulders who hesitates, and eventually obliges. I’m on the balcony. It’s impossible to perceive readiness versus reluctance. It toes the tightrope of comfort. 

In the age of hedonism and hyper connectedness that’s a large part of what propelled Rocky into the mainstream, it’s seems an odd contradiction that he still boots kids off stage when they whip out their mobiles for selfies. The remaining stage-urchins dance as the DJ spins tracks to end out the night, descending into a party that refuses to lend itself to an encore. Rocky gives his attention to the crowd, offering hugs and high fives to those close enough to connect. It’s a grand night, and A$AP Rocky seems very grateful.

BY TARYN STENVEI

pic by Ben Clement 


LOVED: Hedonism is as hedonism does. Feels good, man.

HATED: Festival Hall.

DRANK: Kale smoothies.