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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Entertainment
Daniel Dylan Wray

Yeat review – US rapper brings exploding, sweat-drenched pandemonium

Distinct flow … Yeat.
Distinct flow … Yeat. Photograph: Venla Shalin/Redferns

Drinks are flying, items of clothing are whizzing through the air, smoke cannons are billowing and the bass is thunderous. “It’s fucking mental in there, I had to get out,” says one sweat-drenched man, crawling out of the crowd. He’s only two songs into his first ever solo headline show in Europe but Yeat, the hugely successful 24-year-old US rapper, who is racking up streams in the billions, has already turned the crowd into a frenzy.

The fact that he rips straight into IDGAF, the 2023 Drake track he guested on, certainly helps. It’s a 14+ show, and this very young, very shirtless, very hyped crowd bounce in unison with its sputtering beats and jittery groove. On top, Yeat delivers his distinct flow, one that glides between a rich, resonant, almost malevolent rap and glistening Auto-Tune-coated hooks. It sets the pace for an evening that is as full of off-centre rhythms and chaotic sounds as it is subtly infectious melodies.

Yeat is a mysterious figure who blew up rapidly and has tended to avoid the spotlight. To emphasise his enigmatic presence, he is known for donning a variety of balaclavas and tonight is no different as he animatedly stalks the stage back and forth as a shadowy, masked figure. Tracks such as Talk and Out thë Way display his ability to expel agitated beats alongside unpredictable bars, while also allowing space for the song’s buried hooks to pop out. ILUV plays out via a slow, grinding, dark yet squelchy bounce, almost touching on industrial rock, while the twisting, droning synth line that underpins Breathe feels utterly euphoric.

The pace of the show is ferocious and relentless. Within 50 minutes he’s burned through 20 tracks and while this quick fire, drop-heavy approach may lack some of the nuance and detail of his records, it’s so much fun you don’t really care. The final encore of Monëy So Big is ribcage-reverberating as Yeat lets off roars of mangled Auto-Tune and the crowd explodes. He leaves the room in the exact same state as he entered: total pandemonium.

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