by Marcus Bonner
Backpacker vibes abounded as alt hip-hop crews from near and far converged on Fishtown’s The Barbary on Tuesday evening. iTCH, the solo project of London post-punk outfit The King Blues front-man Johnny “Itch” Fox, has traveled across the pond for a U.S. Tour with Denver, Colorado’s Air Dubai.
The show opened with local Philly act Astronauts Really Fly. ARF, as they’re known to their growing following, kicked things off on a high note. Front-man Mont Brown’s raps collided with guitarist/singer Andrew Meoray’s pop-punk vocals, setting the relatively small audience alight. ARF evoked fantasies of a collaboration between Blink-182 and Kanye circa 2003 and got people moving with successions of impressively tight breakdowns, drops, and crescendos. Meoray’s guitar work and drummer Joey Stix were a highlight, but I’m sure I wasn’t the only one wishing I could hear Art Crichlow III’s sax better.
Cleveland indie-rock act The Kickdrums played second, making an impression with heavily distorted bass lines reverberating through synthy and emotive pop rock songs. Though much airier, The Kickdrums’ set was rhythmic enough to mesh with the night’s backpacker rap overtones. The snare in their drum kit that sounded like an 808 didn’t hurt either.
iTCH ratcheted the energy level back up with his set. Fox’s provocative lyrics were difficult to understand, but his violently kinetic rapping sounded pretty awesome backed up by the driving, abrasive din of his band. A highlight of iTCH’s set was the new single “Homeless Romantic”, more emotive than most of the other songs, but equally aggressive and politically charged. I was surprised to see the drummer sporting a Guy Fawkes mask in the year 2014, but combined with the keyboardist’s baby mask, the creepy effect was achieved.
Air Dubai took the lion’s share of attention and love from the crowd, though their set was a thoroughly unmemorable showcase of vapid and derivative pop-rap. You couldn’t tell any of the instruments apart, so the ambiguous Motown and funk influences got muddled into a fairly unpleasant white noise behind indecipherable raps. Jon Shockness is one hell of an attractive man, though.
During the opener’s sound check, a phalanx of about a dozen adolescent girls established a cordoning line before the stage, where they remained all night. As the crowd ebbed and flowed, this group became the most important fixture in the audience. Whether they (and one of their dads) were the only people in the room or amid a whopping crowd of 30 (both of these were the case at various peaks and valleys throughout the night) these teenagers consistently reciprocated the energy emanating out from the stage.
