Yelawolf is a product of his era. Unlike many musicians of the past, Yelawolf straddles various genres, various personas, all melded together to make one unique sound. This week The 8 Percent was invited to his show at Max Watts in Melbourne. What we discovered was a dynamic performer and a songwriter at the top of his game.
The Man
Born Michael Wayne Atha in 1979 in Gadsden Alabama, Yelawolf began performing hip hop when he went to school in Nashville, Tennessee. After a few false starts, in 2011 he was signed to Shady Records—owned by hip hop superstar Eminem.
His debut album on the label, Radioactive, was widely acclaimed by hip hop critics. His second album, Love Story, was released in 2015.
The Show
When Yelawolf and his 2-piece band enter the stage, there’s obvious differences to a classic hip hop act. Yelawolf walks on to the screeching of an electric guitar, and the scratching of a DJ deck. The sound is intense, the atmosphere dark and electrifying.
The intensity is more than is felt when listening to his Love Story album. On stage Yelawolf is a swaggering rock star, mixed with the attitude of a hip hop star, mixed with the snarl of old-school blues. He has all the stage presence of the superstars of any of these genres.
Yelawolf growls, screams, and raps through his well-known songs, and songs that sound well-known even if you’ve never heard them (thanks in part to sampling, and in other part to strong songwriting skills).
His guitar player and DJ have unwavering high energy, and all three work in perfect sync with each other. This is a tight act, made up of natural performers.
Just how much Yelawolf is a product of his era becomes obvious during a dialogue with the audience. He asks for a show of hands—how many people have downloaded his album illegally? A good third of the room raises their hands. Yelawolf says that if that’s the case—they have to go home, burn 20 copies, and hand them out to people who haven’t heard his music.
He states that he doesn’t care how you get his music—as long as you listen to it and come to his shows. This is in contrast to many older musicians who still rail against downloading and file sharing, as if it’s something that can be fixed with laws and fines, instead of taking it as a cue that a new model is needed.
The most intense part of the night, however, comes during the final song. A woman somehow pushes past security and makes it onto the stage, where she grabs the singer’s iconic Slumerican jacket before being thrown off stage (by the DJ and roadie, it should be mentioned—not security).
The band leave the stage, looking as though they won’t be back for an encore. Then, just as the house lights come up, they return – only to say that they’re not leaving the stage until the jacket is returned. It was a gift, he explains, from a close friend, and he wanted to pass it down to his kids. They bring out seats, they sit down, smoke, drink… it’s a legitimate sit in.
Fights break out amongst the crowd, who fall into a mob mentality, trying to find the person who stole the jacket. Yelawolf—stubborn, confident, angry—chats to the crowd, tries to explain himself. There is no thought of PR, of laws, of anything other than the current situation (The 8 Percent believe he is fully justified, for the record).
Basically, he is hurt. He put everything into a high-energy, unforgettable show, only to have that thrown into his face by failed security and a thieving audience member.
The sit-in is an extreme example of artistic authenticity. Yelawolf does what he wants, when he wants, reacts to situations in whatever way he feels. Eventually the police arrive and advise him he has to leave the stage and he does—after delivering one final song, with the appropriate chorus “fuck you too”.
As Yelawolf leaves the stage, the crowd disperses, aware they’ve just experienced a show with a raw emotional authenticity like no other.
And in case you need closure—he got the jacket back.
Catch Yelawolf at the Metro Theatre in Sydney on December 10, and the Villa in Perth on December 11.