A rapper whose delivery sounds like a cartoon character telling you something genuinely sad is a hard sell in a paragraph and an easy one in a room. The Detroit artist raps in a strangled sing-song that is instantly recognizable and, once you adjust, extremely funny — jokes stacked on jokes until a line lands that reframes all of them as a hard life described cheerfully. He comes out of a Detroit collective that has spent the last several years being the most interesting thing in underground rap. Live he leans on the humor and the crowd responds accordingly. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall is a few hundred people, wood-floored, with a balcony. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. This whole Detroit scene travels through rooms this size, and the people who follow it turn out for every one.
A rapper whose delivery sounds like a cartoon character telling you something genuinely sad is a hard sell in a paragraph and an easy one in a room. The Detroit artist raps in a strangled sing-song that is instantly recognizable and, once you adjust, extremely funny — jokes stacked on jokes until a line lands that reframes all of them as a hard life described cheerfully. He comes out of a Detroit collective that has spent the last several years being the most interesting thing in underground rap. Live he leans on the humor and the crowd responds accordingly. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall is a few hundred people, wood-floored, with a balcony. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. This whole Detroit scene travels through rooms this size, and the people who follow it turn out for every one.
A rapper whose delivery sounds like a cartoon character telling you something genuinely sad is a hard sell in a paragraph and an easy one in a room. The Detroit artist raps in a strangled sing-song that is instantly recognizable and, once you adjust, extremely funny — jokes stacked on jokes until a line lands that reframes all of them as a hard life described cheerfully. He comes out of a Detroit collective that has spent the last several years being the most interesting thing in underground rap. Live he leans on the humor and the crowd responds accordingly. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall is a few hundred people, wood-floored, with a balcony. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. This whole Detroit scene travels through rooms this size, and the people who follow it turn out for every one.