From the bone-chilling “Mamacita” to the club conundrum of “No Bystanders,” hits old and new built momentum like the slow crawl to the top of a roller coaster before 808s dropped, smoke and fire shot through the air, and Scott’s rasp brought the crowd to a moshing frenzy. His new album takes the park’s title, but like much of his catalog, hovers through a projection of Scott’s memory.Īs such, his ACL set brought us through the album’s gold, wide-mouthed cover and into the grounds of his own Astroworld.īeginning with the paranoid “Stargazing,” Scott toured his discography’s biggest attractions. “Did he not get the memo that Childish Gambino broke his ankle and C3 needed him to play weekend one too?” another asked.įinally, at 8:55 sharp, stage screens turned black before a cheeky intro asked, “Where in the world, but Astroworld, can you have so much fun?” Scott adored the Houston-area theme park as a kid, and was devastated by its premature closure. “Why even get on the plane after that hypnotic SNL performance last night?” wondered one fan no older than 15.
As the appointed hour ticked past with no sign of the MC, questions bristled through an impatient crowd. Some stretched, others hyped each other up by giving their friends dead arms and screaming “Travis, Travis, Travis,” as if they really believed Scott could hear them tucked away in his RV. They waited for their their god with the cooped-up anticipation of a football team before taking the field. None of this was lost on Juul-ripping Snapchatters who arrived early for Scott’s 8:45pm set. The Houston rapper embodies the “La Flame” moniker because his concerts set venues ablaze, inciting more mosh pits, riots, and hysteria with each show. Like metal or punk, Scott’s mystique is only realized in a live setting.