YUNGBLUD @ Roadrunner 9/19
Photography by Kate Kotlyar
Review by Tabitha Curry
Yungblud. The ordained Brit has crept across almost everyone’s feed as of late, his tour bus roaming across the American continent for the past month. We’re coming towards the end of his first proper American invasion, teacup in hand. As soon as he stepped on stage, Dominic Harrison had a feral glimmer in his eye, a red Solo cup of beer, and command over the entire room. But what about the opener, you may ask? What sort of talent opens for a man with leather pants oh so tight?
His name is Sawyer Hill. Arkansas-bred, long, wavy hair, and vocals with a grit indicative of years of rock. The deluxe edition of his April album, “Heartbreak Hysteria,” was released this past month, so obviously, hits such as “Masochistic Lover” were his primary setlist emphasis. From this listener’s standpoint, rock is a very difficult style of music to translate on recording, but Hill does it quite well, and even better live. Balancing as deep a vocal as his with the sounds of hard rock, surf, indie, and alternative, is where his uniqueness shines—further illuminated by his cover of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues,” an ode to his Arkansas roots.
During the break, I spoke with a few groups to deduce what exactly rock means in our contemporary times, where mystique has given way to interactive reels that create expectations for concertgoers. Friend group Pam, Jennifer, and Joan, hanging out stage left, had drinks in hand and a strong answer: Rock is positivity, authenticity, and connectivity. To them, Yungblud represents all of these ideals. He’s “what we need.” He’s an amalgamation of sounds, a reminder of greats such as Steven Tyler, Johnny Rotten, Arctic Monkeys, Oasis, and Brit-Pop, but certainly not a mimicry. The age demographic at Roadrunner was strong evidence of this, with three-generation families packing in, 20-something goths, grandmas in silk, and dyed hair Gen-Xers (to name a few). All there alike to see Yungblud step on stage, ushering in the set with the nine-minute epic “Hello Heaven, Hello.”
From the moment the rockstar came out, he was sweating. A special kinetic energy permeated from him into the room; his band played the cool, mysterious counterparts. I had the luck of being printed a photo pass for this review, so what is one to do with no camera and a photo pit? Take in as much of the action and reaction as possible to understand how poetry in motion exists within this genre and craft.
Not for a single second did he lose the audience, glance down at the photographers, or seem unsure of himself. It was a masterclass on a star in their performance prime, right as a celebrity explodes. To the chagrin of his doctor, Yungblud performed and induced an adrenaline shock in the entire room. His vocals were strong, intense, and controlled. They were comparable to the record, but with a degree of nuance revealed only in live performance. He was covering every inch of that stage, jumping atop speakers, headbanging, hips thrusting, and throwing his tongue out.
His ability to command a stage was deeply impressive, especially for a venue as spread out as Roadrunner. Repeatedly, he’d give the audience positive affirmations such as “I need you tonight, baby!” During “Tin Pan Boy / braindead!”, he had the audience jumping to the beat before a single note was played. This infectious energy harkens back to the question I posed on the basis of rock—it’s an intangible feeling of communal chaos and joy. Double-fretted guitars appeared, cups of water lined up, dedicated to being thrown onto an enthusiastically receiving pit, and the singer’s headbanging sweat droplets all communicated to me that rock and roll never died, it metamorphosed, and as it always has, brought us together.
For “fleabag,” Yungblud brought up the epitome of a rock girl—mini skirt, bangs, and leather boots—to accompany him on guitar. Patiently practicing timing with her, his positive attentiveness shone through. Very rock and roll if you ask me, or the ladies mentioned earlier. This trait carried on with his consideration of those unfortunately overheating, pausing the set with, “At a Yungblud show, we take care of each other —that’s what rock ’n’ roll is about.”
In tribute to Ozzy, he performed the Black Sabbath track “Changes.” If you’ve seen clips from the summer tribute to the late star, you know this kid has some pipes. Seeing it in person held an even greater chill, with a very outspoken gratitude for the role Mr. Osbourne has played in his life, paired with an emotional audience. If there’s one song every person in Roadrunner knew and wasn’t afraid to belt, it was this one.
Overall, Yungblud came to Boston and conquered, just as Ozzy predicted. He stood on the hands of the crowd and had fleets of the audience crowd surfing their way to security, running away in feral bliss. He knew how to celebrate his band, effectively disappearing for the solo sections to give grace to the group. From the start, the crowd was his, and he knew it.
So what is rock and roll in 2025? Well, at a Yungblud show, “it’s about love”. It’s also quite fun and sweaty.
