The world’s ragiest rapper, Travis Scott, finally landed in New Zealand. It wasn’t the total carnage some expected, but it wasn’t much to write home about, either.
Morningside train station looks remarkably different this evening compared to my daily commute, because what is usually a nondescript suburban platform is now lined with six security guards and two police officers. One officer tells anxious patrons not to worry, they’re just here for the concert. They’re adamant that they don’t want a repeat of “what happened in Australia”.
It was Travis Scott that happened – “chaotic scenes” of drunk youths getting violent and failing to keep each other safe in the name of the favourite rapper. Following that debacle, the US rapper has crossed the ditch to perform his first-ever New Zealand concert at Eden Park in Auckland, and though hearing ‘Sicko Mode’ live for a mere $49.99 would have been unthinkable in 2018 when he was on top of the world, it’s what I’ve just forked out for a ticket in the stalls. Ticket prices were slashed after Live Nation switched the concert from Thursday to Wednesday at short notice and without explanation.
It seemed to have all the makings of a terrible night out, a real Auckland special for a school night. Despite signs saying otherwise at the arena, the show hadn’t sold out, but Scott’s fans – or “ragers” – were amping up for a big night anyway. At 5pm, the youths lined the block around the corner and drew gasps from onlookers. Some of them had been there since 8am, despite Eden Park asking patrons to hold off on showing up until 9am.
It’s nearly time for venue doors to open, but the boys on the train that just pulled up to Kingsland station, one stop from Morningside and the closest to Eden Park, already say they “can’t be fucked” waiting as the window pans across the lines of people. The stink of Lynx Africa body spray and BO wafts off the train carriage with them.
From the upper stalls, you get a safe view of the zoo below. Even though the gates opened in the early evening, Scott isn’t expected to be onstage until 9pm. So, to pass the time, parts of the crowd form circles for dance battles or fight pits and it’s all a lot of nothing to see here, business as usual. They’ll end up in the splash on the Herald and Stuff the next day.
Going to Eden Park means being prepared to potentially bankrupt yourself by buying a feed, and the lines make it even more punishing (I end up at the vegan stall, where there is no line). There are also plastic cups for decanting your beer, but you’re not allowed to take them to fill up for water. You must buy a drink bottle.
There’s a brief DJ opener who plays enough recognisable hits to create a bit of vibe that almost immediately fades out when he’s done. I start to get very anxious when he plays that one Jay Z and Kanye West song about being in Paris, because I unfortunately cannot trust my fellow New Zealanders to not use racial slurs. When the DJ stops playing you can hear, from the stalls at least, the sounds of comically loud crickets chirping (sadly not loud enough to drown out the university students next to me calling things “gay” and talking about their business degrees).
Scott arrives on stage bang-on 9pm, to screams, thumping beats and flames that I swear I can feel from way back in the stands. He’s running around his stage, speeding through songs and inciting all the rage. The crowd puts their hands up whenever he asks, and when a real hit comes on, a wave of cellphones rise to the air.
He brings two boys onstage (one because he’s wearing a “free Thug” shirt) and so the white kids act as Scott’s hype men. This goes on for a few songs, and Scott looks kind of funny with his henchmen who look like they’ve been plucked from a classroom at Auckland Grammar. In the middle of it all, a teen “rager” asks to hit my vape (I joke “that’s how you get hepatitis”, but maybe he thought I said “I have hepatitis”, because he turns away and doesn’t look at me again).
He crosses off the crowd pleasers – ‘I Know?’, ‘Butterfly Effect’, ‘Highest in the Room’ – and you can really hear and feel the bass – it’s so strong it shakes the doors – but Scott’s voice is harder to pick up. He half-raps shortened versions of his songs, letting the crowd and DJ take over most of the performance so that he can say “what’s up New Zealanddddd” and “it’s my first time in New Zealandddd” a lot.
During his last song a crowd is gathering in GA trying to push through the barricade to get out of Eden Park, but it’s closed, and the security won’t budge. So, a man pushes his way through then tries to scrap out a security guard, gets shoved back in, and wastes his time in a shouting match. I kind of don’t blame them for being restless – I’m bored shitless after watching five soulless replays of ‘Fein’ as well.
It’s not too hard to escape Eden Park, because years of gig-going have made me an expert crowd-dodger. Find the gaps, watch out for the drunks, identify the slow walkers and you’ll be speeding through to Kingsland station in no time. Try not to get stressed when you overhear the teenage boys behind you plotting how they’ll shove you out of their way to get a seat on the train.
So, after all that, was Scott good? He reminds me of something funny I heard on The Read podcast, that people like Fatman Scoop and others existed for the purpose of being hype men to keep a party going, so the rappers can focus on the music. But now, too many hype men think they’re the rappers – maybe Scott is one of them.
He’s not a lyricist like Kendrick Lamar. Not a creative like Tyler, The Creator. He doesn’t go deep like J Cole. He doesn’t even have whatever Drake has that’s made him immune to falling off the hip-hop throne. He’s got hits that carry a bit of longevity – ‘Sicko Mode’ and ‘Goosebumps’, namely – but he’ll never be in the “big three” conversations, nor will Astroworld likely be regarded as a genuine classic in the same way that we think about Reasonable Doubt or Illmatic.
He’s just kind of … there. There are some good songs in his catalogue, but when he prioritises playing ‘Fein’ multiple times instead of doing ‘Sicko Mode’ in its entirety, you have to wonder how much service the fans are getting out of it, and whether the rapper they idolise is the performer they think he is. It’ll make a cute memory for the little ones, though – the first time they went to a rap gig and witnessed the full scope of human indecency.
But I’m simply a passive observer who moonlights as a critic and unfortunately enjoys music. The one hour set time that Scott performed on stage may have been a kick in the guts to some fans who forked out $300 to see him, but not me – I can’t wait to get home.
