Travis Scott promised us a circus. We got one.
Travis Scott promised us a circus. We got one.
Amidst the hype, the fights and the frustration, some music occasionally broke out.
“Brianna! Brianna?” The woman behind me yelped into her phone, desperately trying to direct her friend – one of 50,000 people inside Auckland’s premiere stadium – towards her seat. “Come down! You’ll see me! Hold up your phone! Flash us your phone!” Her tone changed as her excitement turned to frustration. “Just. Come. Down.” Then the line went dead. “Bri! Bri?”
While the Brianna drama played out behind me, another was building in front. In an Eden Park moshpit heaving heavily for most of the night, Travis Scott fans were getting tetchy. At 8pm, a DJ played a very average 15-minute set. That left 45 minutes to kill before the ringleader showed up. The soundtrack? Actual cricket chirps, piped through the speakers.
So, as they crushed against a stage resembling a volcanic crevasse, fans began sizing each other up. Fists swung. Melees broke out. They reset, then did it again, their violent tussles lasting many minutes. No one attempted to stop them. Instead of pulling them apart, those around them reached for their phones to film the fracas.
(NZ Herald has footage; please don’t watch it.)
Travis Scott promised us a circus. At Eden Park last night, we got one. It was always going to be this way. When his Circus Maximus show was announced, tickets didn’t sell, leading to major price reductions. A week ago, Scott changed the date, sparking fan outrage. Then ticket prices were lowered again, to just $30. Many were given away in a Live Nation competition. If you lived near Eden Park, one resident told me you could turn up on the morning and just grab them, for free.
Amidst all of this, promoters Live Nation and Ticketmaster remained stubbornly silent. NZ Herald voiced their frustration like this:
“Eden Park representatives forwarded all queries to Live Nation, who failed to respond to requests for comment when contacted by the Herald after the surprise rescheduling last week. As of today, Live Nation had still not responded to questions about the ticket discounts, expected attendance numbers, or the reason behind the event’s rescheduling. The Herald has since reached out to Live Nation again for comment on the changes and disruptions.”
To date, Live Nation’s only statement, it seems, has been to me. They blamed the date change on “logistics”. They said they’d done all they could to keep fans informed. “All ticket holders have been notified so yes, the information has been accurately communicated to them,” a spokesperson told me. But even then, when I asked if they had anything to say to fans left out of pocket by all of this, they stopped talking to me.
To be fair, they’ve had much bigger things to worry about lately.
So, at 9pm, search lights began scanning the skies. Laser beams flashed overhead. Fireworks erupted from the stage and out of the rock structure. Pyro flamed constantly and from every vantage point, including out of huge tower blocks. Fans surged. Video screens erupted in red. The crickets stopped chirping. It felt ominous. The rage was about to begin.
Finally, all of the mess surrounding Travis Scott’s first Aotearoa show cleared. From the moment he arrived on stage, it was clear why things are like this. Scott loves drama. He revels in it. He relishes it. He’s less interested in playing the role of a stadium hip-hop star than acting like a meth-addled Les Mills aerobics instructor, angrily barking orders while charging around the stage doing high knees.
If it felt intense, it was designed to be. A Travis Scott show is a 75-minute pummeling, a wrecking ball designed not to heighten, but to flatten. It is joyless. It is mechanical. There is no let up: just brute force noise coming at you the entire time. He played ‘CIRCUS MAXIMUS.’ He played ‘NO BYSTANDERS’. He played ‘MELTDOWN’. (All caps all his.)
Then he played ‘FE!N’ five times. It could easily have been 10, or 15, or 20. It didn’t matter. The party never ends. Fuck the club up. Etc.
It didn’t need to be this way. Seasoned stadium stars know their shows need peaks and troughs. It can, and should, be a journey. On record, Scott is a master of channeling dark energy, his woozy atmospherics oozing thick, heavy vibes. His Autotuned vocals have plenty to say about the digital cacophony we’ve all found ourselves in. His bangers hit because they’re surrounded by cinematic sonics.
Live, all that nuance is lost. This is hip-hop turned into a blunt force object designed to bludgeon fans. There were only smidgens of respite to cling to: the slower-paced 'HIGHEST IN THE ROOM’, Sampha’s calming coos in ‘MY EYES’, and ‘Mamacita,’ plucked from Scott’s excellent Days Before Rodeo mixtape. But they were few and far between. Travis Scott is all about the destination, and that destination is the most boring place imaginable: rage.
Last night, I saw more pyro than I have ever seen in my life. I saw an incredible fireworks show. I saw heaving moshpits bounce in ways I have never seen before. I saw fans react in the worst possible way. I saw a stadium spectacle and I got what I was promised: a complete and utter circus. Did I get to see a hip-hop show? Don’t be silly. That was never part of the equation.
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Bonus beat.
The seven (yes seven) 17 Y/O girls we dropped off and then picked up from Maccas in Gt Nth Rd afterwards were absolutely amped about the show. They were in the seats not mosh pit. They reckoned for the money they paid for the tickets, it was excellent entertainment value.
The fighting wasn't optimal, but as someone who met a ton of the fans one-on-one that night, I must say the great majority were absolutely great young kids who were genuinely excited to meet their idols. Did I have a fully grown human flung into me not once, but twice? Yes. They were very apologetic, but then did it again. Duh.
Must say, I didn't know a single song (my bad!), but that was some great show, the sound, the visual artistry - sometimes the stage looked like you could take a photo and hang it on your wall as an artwork, and the pyro made Rammstein look like Guy Fawkes in an West Auckland driveway.
And those people in the crowd, they were so amped for it. Most of them were absolutely overjoyed, and dancing like crazy - I got a huge buzz out of just looking at their happy faces. They needed this, you could tell.
Big shout out to all the parents accompanying their young kids. You could tell they were out of place, wished they could be anywhere else when they arrived, but went along anyway. Bet they still had a good time - it was just so captivating!