Every time the boys get together to hit a good show, it’s always a movie. And this time, we actually got some clips to show for it. On July 20th, Tommy Feraco, Greg Castillo, Dom Bilello, Sean Gallagher, and myself ventured onto the streets of Philly to see The Chats. Summertime in Fishtown’s local Gayborhood was hot–making us question why we left the beach for the city. The only comforting factor was that we were headed to the Kung Fu Necktie to see an Aussie rev-punk band we’ve followed since the release of their infamous, “Smoko.”
The concert was hard AF. Fast tunes, tons of sweat, and a bombardment of bodies accompanied the venue’s $3 Hamms tall boys. The beer we drank revved our souls and whatever we didn’t drink was just used as lube in the mosh–just as a boxer puts on vaseline before a fight. With a Death Grips concert at 10/10 on the “Shows I Almost Died At” scale; I’d put The Chats at 8.5/10 (10 being joyous survival after narrowly escaping death).
Chats played what seemed like the entirety of their material in an hour. They even played their newest song, “Identity Theft,” two weeks before it was released to the public. Dripping sweat, ringing our shirts out on the streets of Philly–we were content.
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Not long after revving for The Chats, we needed some mellower vibes. I had never listened to King Yellowman before. I had only the tales of a once-in-a-lifetime experience described to me by superfans Justin Perry and Drue Amato. When I heard Yellowman was returning to NJ, I knew this would be a nice show to back-up the memorable Chats experience. Little did I know, this show would be no backup. Seeing Yellowman exceeded all expectations (which were honestly semi-low) and due to great company and great vibes, it was a show worth talking about.
If you have not heard of or seen Yellowman before (like myself) there is not much you can do to preface the experience of being a few feet away from him. Justin Perry said it best:
“When you see Yellowman, you’re just gonna do this…” Justin dropped is jaw and gazed into the distance–mimicking his first time seeing Yellowman.
The crew anxiously waited through the ska-reggae band that played before the King–drowning Miller High Life bottles. The band finished and soon Yellowman’s crew began to take stage.
“Are you ready for King Yellowman?” The bass player belted.
The crowd roared (as much as 30 reggae fans can roar). Casey Sturts looked at me and asked, “Have you ever seen Yellowman before?”
“No.”
She laughed. “I think he’s missing half of his jaw or something.”
Before I could even process what that might look like on a man, the lights dimmed and a small, skinny figured appeared on stage. Dressed in Adidas basketball shorts, a tight tank adorning the name of his popular “Zungguzungguguzungguzeng,” and a skull cap, Yellowman’s presence reverberated throughout the crowd.
His looks were deceiving. But, his personality, dance moves, and pure swagger solidified the fact that he was indeed a king. As if that wasn’t enough, he even used the microphone to demonstrate how to apply a condom during the song, “Rubber Rubber.” He loved the crowd, put on a good show, and taught me that high knees and jumping were also dance moves–not just sports moves. Did I mention Andy H went on stage to celebrate in Yellowman’s glory? Shortly after, the reggae star was wearing Andy Schussler’s TAK Waterman hat and Tyler Sankey’s shades (which the King so kindly returned). Despite all unnecessary doubt, Yellowman made for a killer Monday night with the boys.
