![]() ![]() In between sets the interluding music played, and with each passing song the energy in the audience became more palpable: excitement filled the hall to the brim, nearly spilling over into frustration as the clock ticked on. I would have enjoyed his performance based on his enthusiasm alone– the catchy bedroom-pop hooks, infectiously jumpy production and the lyrics drenched in youthful cynicism acted as a nice little cherry on top. He dove into the energy of the venue as he smiled his way from one end of the stage to the other, finishing up with the song that arguably got him there in the first place: “Dancing in My Room.” It was so obviously the best night of his teenage life, and he showed it. Next up, like a Golden Retriever puppy after a long nap, 347aiden loped onto the stage, took in the view and shook his head in disbelief at the crowd gawking back at him. Despite his melodramatic lyrics and heavily tattooed neck, as he sang “Sober/Hungover” he could not escape the fact that he grew up with happily married parents who played music in their church– on the balcony above the stage his mom and dad leaned over the railing, mom filming on her iPhone with the flash on the entire time. ![]() With the guitarist’s man-spreaded emo stance and the act’s skeletal middle-finger logo behind them, I felt shuttled back in time to a Vans Warped Tour in its peak year as he skated through an angsty, joyful, and downright fun opening set. Why would Tree, known well for his cyber-scooter-nerd persona and indie pop sound, take such a hard turn to left field towards a maximalist red-neck bowl-cut-mullet country album? Why did he recruit so many influencers for his “Cowboys Don’t Cry” video? Why on earth would he fake a country drawl?Īnd thus I found myself in the pit of the Shrine Expo Hall watching the first opener Sueco take the stage like a reincarnation of Billie Joe Armstrong destined to make emo songs fitting for Tik Tok. How could someone with such a brash, brazen, and immature aesthetic produce any more than one good song?įurthermore, I found the release of his newest album “Cowboy Tears” to be of great intrigue. I did enjoy the song “Do You Feel Me?”, but kept my indulgence hidden from the world and pinned the tune as a fluke in his discography. His clothes bothered me, his social media content bothered me, and his infamous music videos did nothing but make me uncomfortable. I found myself on the majority side of the aisle that peripherally hated him, opposite to the minority that fiercely supported him. ![]() In the cyberspace, the line between meme-able and irritating is as fine as chalk marks on a blacktop Tree balances his internet persona like he’s playing a mesmerizing game of hopscotch. If you do not know his music, you almost certainly know his persona: Oliver Tree has spent years haunting internet culture with his bowl cut, purple and pink puffer jacket, and frustratingly impressive scooter tricks. I used to think that the best concerts are those where you love the artist and are proven right after watching Oliver Tree fill the Shrine Expo Hall, I would say the opposite: the best concerts are those where you hate the artist and are proven wrong. ![]()
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