Yung Lean @ House of Blues 10/16

Photography by Brianna Benitez

Review by Malak Ibrahim

A piercing and consistent wind chill plagued the late afternoon leading up to Yung Lean’s House of Blues performance on the evening of Oct. 16. However, the weather was no match for the hubbub and community of the queue; the concertgoers distracted themselves with set list speculation and mutual excitement over the Swedish rapper. 

As people trickled in, the crowd’s energy was infectious, and as I looked around, Drainers (the name given to fans of Yung Lean and his music collective “Drain Gang”) of diverse aesthetics and ages filled all three floors of House of Blues. Whispers around me inquired about the opener about to perform, a Massachusetts-based duo known as the “Taxidermists.” With less than 3,000 listeners on Spotify, this was no doubt the opportunity of a lifetime for band members Salvadore McNamara and Cooper B. Handy. 

Their 8 p.m. appearance quickly silenced the unfamiliar crowd, faces eager with curiosity for the music to follow. The duo gave a brief introduction, quickly jumping into a Midwest emo-reminiscent sound. The duo maintained an unwavering intensity throughout their performance, with no song titles called out or pauses between tracks. If you closed your eyes, you might have thought there was a full band on stage rather than just a guitarist and a drummer. 

Although I was mesmerized by their presence, I quickly gauged the audience’s reaction, and those around me murmured in awe, eager to find out where in Massachusetts the duo originated. After reminding the audience to drink water, the second half of their set picked up the energy as a close friend on guitar joined the duo. While the first half of their set was more subdued, the latter half placed them on par with alt-rock band Geese.

As the House buzzed with anticipation, the venue shook with electric energy, transforming the half-hour wait into mere seconds. Then, just as the lights dimmed, the minimalist white cyclorama magically transformed into a vessel for the stunning visuals to come. Preceding Yung Lean’s entrance were cryptic messages and spiritual imagery in what can only be described as a distinct X-ray aesthetic. The cyclorama would morph into a character of its own, displaying shadows of the crowd, moving visuals, and eventually dropping down to reveal instrumentalists. 

The venue roared as Jonatan “Yung Lean” Leandoer entered the stage, marking an end to his five-year hiatus from Boston. His opening remarks would be one of many directly addressing the audience.“Boston, what the fu– is up!?” riled up the crowd as he jumped straight into his opening song, “Smirnoff Ice.” 

Lean’s presence was nothing short of angelic. Dressed in a white two-piece outfit, he danced across the stage, microphone adorned with angel wings in hand. He actively engaged the audience, teetering towards the edge, swaying his hands, encouraging flashlights, and leading multiple calls and responses throughout the night. Every person uttered “Leandoer” in unison, bringing back the lost art of collective audience participation.  

He proceeded to perform “Forever Yung,” a track off his latest album, self-titled “Jonatan.” This album marks a departure from his previous style, swapping out rap for a more melodic and vulnerable genre, an homage to his alternate musical persona, Jonatan Leandoer 96. Lean’s eyes transformed into glossy orbs for the first (but not last) time that evening, a testament to the raw pain behind his works. 

As the night went on, he bounced between his older and newer tracks, acknowledging his fanbase’s preferences while staying true to his artistry. Though Yung Lean was the main attraction, the instrumentalists accompanying him stole the show. Hidden behind the cyclorama was a quartet providing live tracking throughout the night. Undoubtedly, the heart of the show was the drummer, providing intense passion and a fire to keep up with Lean’s dynamism. 

Though he delivered on every song, highlights included his performances of newer releases “I’m Your Dirt I’m Your Love” and “Horses,” and classic “Afghanistan.” The ground-level pit matched Lean’s energy throughout the night, immersing themselves in the powerful wizardry unfolding before them. Lean understandably saved “Agony” for the end of his set, a heartbreaking tune covering his struggles with psychosis and drug addiction. 

His set concluded in what felt like a blink. Before I realized it, he was already performing his encore: classic “Ginseng Strip,” his voice nearly lost amidst the audience’s enthusiastic singing. Lean jumped off the stage to sing with the audience, and just like that, I found myself centimeters within his presence.

Between the opening set, the instrumentalists, and the well-executed lighting and visual design, this was not merely a solo performance; it was a fully realized production confirmed by the audience’s steadfast entrancement. Yung Lean’s genuine passion for creating art beamed from within, only confirmed by his talent and immersive stage presence. Despite the nearly freezing temperature outside, Yung Lean’s performance fostered a warmth of community sure to withstand any condition.