After running around the house getting ready for a concert, Blusette and I took an Uber into San Francisco to see The Hellp. We got to the door, and after getting some very large X’s written on the back of our hands, we entered. Of course, a girl’s first business is finding the bathroom of any given venue. We walked to the back of Brick & Mortar Music Hall to find a gathering of people who were surely not eligible to take a driver’s test. Teenagers filled the room and people crowded into stalls, singing and screaming and smoking. There was some definite puking going on, so Bluestte and I took matters into our own hands and switched to the men’s room, even making a friend who joined us in our defiance.
After our more efficient bathroom run, we entered the crowd. Although we were two hours tardy, The Hellp was running even later and had yet to go on. With the crowd still a bit stiff, we weaved through the skinny jeans, mod haircuts, and X’d hands that filled the space. The venue was small and intimate with a large bar in the back but there was still plenty of room for moshing, dancing, and crowd surfing. The Hellp were illuminated by huge light boxes behind them, outlining their movements and filling the space with white light.
Early on in their set, a guy kept coming up to us and asking if we wanted to go backstage after, and after I answered with a confused “sure..!?”, he disappeared, only to reappear throughout the night. Crunchy beats, plenty of beeping, and shouted lyrics filled our ears as Noah Dillon and Chandler Ransom Lucy hunched over their respective equipment and mics. Every so often, Dillon would pause and shout to the engineer to turn up the track in the house, accompanied by rowdy whooping from the crowd. Attentive to their every movement, hair flick, or comment, the audience almost seemed to worship Dillon and Lucy; it was one of the best crowds I have experienced in a while. These ever-attentive listeners became confused yet curious as the next song didn’t seem to start correctly and kept looping, even though Lucy was hunched over the deck. Dillon handled this technical difficulty with humor, commenting, “It’s not the same as a rap track – we can’t just hit play!” Quickly moving on from that unexpected intermission, The Hellp continued on with their set, blasting more crunchy tracks with no more interruptions. In the mosh pit, Bluesette noticed a white shirt and grabbed it. That shirt ended up being the band’s own tour merch! As the night progressed, the man from earlier kept finding us in the crowd, continuously inviting us backstage. Although we found this funny, we also became more and more suspicious and opted to not accept the offer.
After the group faked an exit, an awesome remix of Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance” came on which ignited the most jumping, moshing, and filming we had seen all night. After all the madness, The Hellp really did finish their set, and the crowd dispersed. The post show lingering gave me the perfect opportunity to discuss the night with other fans. Most people I talked to seemed to reference The Hellp’s members by their first names. One fan, told us about how Dillon’s photography initially piqued their interest, and that’s how they discovered their music. Another fan and their friends both expressed a love for the indie sleaze revival, citing other artists like The Hellp they loved.
After exiting Brick & Mortar, Bluesette and I lingered around waiting for our Uber, joking that we were secretly looking for the guy that invited us backstage. Just as our Uber canceled on us, Dillon and Lucy appeared from the venue. Seeing them flocked to by other giddy fans around them, we couldn’t help but be interested as well. Taking Blu’s found shirt, I approached Dillion and asked for a signature! He happily agreed, in between taking photos with other fans. A new Uber arrived and we were on our way home.
Review by Mary Luce
