As I walked into The Anthem, the vast venue was filled with flashing yellow, blue, and red lights. The stage was taken over by the opening act, The Taxidermists. Their upbeat indie vibe grasped the attention of the crowd and their songs “Sweet Guilt” and “Love You” had many people dancing and nodding their head to the rhythm. The band reminded me of The Descendents, and the crowd showered them with praise after their amazing set!
As the crowd waited for Yung Lean and listened to artists such as Mazzy Star and Chief Keef, an uproar of conversations filled the room. I made a friend during this time, who made it to the concert on a whim of walking around The Wharf and seeing that Yung Lean was performing at The Anthem. Our conversation was halted by the dimming lights and the glow of projection on the stage. On the screen appeared a sequence of images such as the moon, a man playing a guitar, and what looked to be a dark creature. The “film” ended with a tree followed by a cloud of smoke coming from behind the screen. Yung Lean entered the stage, starting his first song of the set “Forever Yung”. The upbeat song had everyone dancing and overall having a good time! Yung Lean’s energy matched with the crowd’s and it felt like a synchronized energy within the venue!
As Yung Lean finished a few songs, the crowd started cheering as the lights dimmed once again. On the screen, candles were displayed, and what followed was one of the best concert moments I’ve ever experienced. The first note of the piano was one of the most recognizable and beautiful songs of Yung Lean, “Agony”. As my friend and I sang aloud, he said that this was his and his best friend’s favorite songs, though she had recently passed away. When I heard that, I knew that what would follow would be a series of tears, from both me and him. My connection to “Agony” has been since middle school, since it was one of the songs I would cry to. Now, thinking about how his recently departed friend loved this song, brought me even more sadness. My voice cracked as I sang along, and all I could think about was how so many people can feel different types of “comfort” within the song, proving its beauty. The crowd was at a stand still, in awe of hearing the song that put them at ease the most. The venue turned into an emotional realm. The mellow instrumentals felt like home, and made me wish that it would never end. Though the lyrics were coming to an end, Yung Lean wasn’t finished. The crowd watched the candles flicker on the screen, letting the instrumentals speak for itself. Yung Lean yelled “D.C. sing with me!”, and that’s exactly what the crowd does. Repeating the chorus “Isolation, caved in. I adore you, the sound of your skin” in unison was equivalent to a choir in a cathedral. As we repeated the chorus a few times, Yung Lean followed by saying “it doesn’t have to sound good, just make sure it comes from the heart”. The crowd grew louder and I cried even harder. The crowd then started to clap to the rhythm, making the feeling even more euphoric. The crowd cheered as the song finally ended, leaving everyone feeling emotionally relieved.
The set had a story to it. Images appeared on the screen every so often, possibly correlating to the upcoming song, including scenes of different figures, the sun, and the moon, leaving the crowd all wondering what they all meant. We all knew it was some type of story, but just couldn’t figure it out. It was admirable work, contemporary and almost objective. I enjoyed watching it, as if each scene was another piece to a puzzle without a reference picture.
As the set ended and Yung Lean said his final goodbyes to D.C., he expressed his love for the crowd and the city, leaving a bittersweet feeling in the venue as everyone realized it was over. The crowd, of course, expressed their love back. As everyone started to leave with a feeling similar to coming down from a high, satisfaction and amazement went with them.