A personal review of Denzel Curry’s New York City concert.

By Noah Weinberg / Photos from Noah Weinberg & Sam Deutsch

Don’t ditch your astronomy class! Learn something! But if you do decide to bail on astronomy, make sure it’s because you’re driving to see one of the best rappers out today, Denzel Curry. That’s how I spent the better part of my Thursday afternoon: zooming down the highway with nothing but my cooky thoughts, half a dozen Mike & Ikes, and a napping friend to my right. As the vibrant New York foliage poured through my peripherals, I couldn’t help but ponder: “Am I really driving 5 hours just for Denzel Curry?”

Upon hopping out of the car into the brisk Manhattan wind, I was met with some delightful dap-ups from high school friends. We quickly scurried onto the grimy subway, downed some acrid Jagermeister, and entered our venue for the night. 

 Since our group arrived at Terminal 5 a bit late, there was already a swath of people tightly clumped together on the hard, slimy floor. I almost slipped in front of a rotund white man in an oversized t-shirt that read, “Redveil’s Chicken Soup.” I was vaguely aware of Redveil; he was tonight’s opener and one of hip-hop’s brightest up-and-coming stars. Standing behind a table full of merch of Redveil’s face, this bearded individual politely asked if I was okay from my near tumble. I told him I was and asked how he got a job working with Redveil. He had worked with the Maryland rapper long before he took off. The pair liked each other a lot, and once money started to come into Redveil’s pocket, he hired my bearded companion as his tour manager. I was about to ask more questions about his life, but I heard a boyish voice offstage scream, “New York, you ready!?”

It was Redveil! Decked out in loose purple corduroy pants, the Learn 2 Swim rapper quickly captivated our audience of thousands. He performed songs from his first two albums and even rapped his newest track, “float,” off the compilation tape, See You Next Year. Redveil’s childlike wonder and unabashed joy left a positive impression. That being said, Redveil was the most underwhelming performer of the night, mainly due to technical difficulties outside his control. 

Next to the stage was AG Club, a lively rap duo with almost intentionally dichotomous hairstyles. AG Club’s ability to bounce off each other's flow and delivery demonstrated the pair’s impeccable chemistry. With seven-foot blown-up inflatables of each rapper’s face behind the duo, the level of intentionality put into the stage design kept fans engaged and energized. AG Club got the crowd buzzing with their hit “Memphis,” a dizzying banger with slightly repetitive flows and ear-wormy production. The duo requested that the audience open up the floor for mosh pits, and we happily obliged. Loose bits of sweat and hair were flying all over our excessively masculine atmosphere. AG Club almost brought too much energy for an opening act, but the Imposter Syndrome rappers weren’t quite finished. They brought Redveil back out for their last song, and the collective performed their track, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” There was no jumping around from the audience for this final song because everyone was entranced by the dazzling display Redveil and AG Club put on. Once the track concluded, a deafening roar erupted from the crowd. Everyone realized at once that AG Club had that “it” factor that so many artists covet. As the gargantuan blow-up heads began to deflate, a murmuring chant began to sweep over the crowd, “Denzel! Denzel! Denzel! Denzel!” Terminal 5 was ready, and so was Mr. Curry because once the stage was cleared off, a familiar voice offstage roared, “NEW YORK CITY!!!!!”

A seductive female vocal line began to rise in volume as the crowd cheered to its feet. Finally, a stout man with black Anime-inspired hair strutted onstage and called out, “you ready?” Denzel Curry scanned the crowd before closing his eyes and expertly spat the following lines:

“Take a ride on my train of thought, fundamentals what I bought/Penniless, I await the emptiness enlightened/Twenty-six years on Earth, my soul fighting/Habits that ain't happen, my body has took a liken/To my lifestyle, battling stress the size of Goliath”

We were collectively in awe of Denzel’s virtuosic rapping prowess. His elite stage presence and precise delivery easily persuaded the ground floor to sway their arms to his enchanting drums. When Curry concluded his performance of “Melt Session #1,” he politely asked the crowd, “should we turn it up a bit?” Then without hesitation, the instrumental to Denzel’s latest hit, “Walkin,” began to play. The crowd burst into a delirious frenzy as Denzel led his fans in a rendition of the song’s vocal sample. Our group was ready for “Walkin,” with nearly 2,500 screaming fans helping Mr. Curry rap his two stunning verses. The crowd couldn’t wait for more, and Denzel didn’t look ready to disappoint. 

Next came a slew of songs from Denzel’s latest critically acclaimed album, Melt My Eyez See Your Future. “Worst Come to Worst,” “The Last,” “Mental,” and “Troubles” were all delivered with meticulous rapping behind catchy production. That was all until Denzel suddenly ordered the audience to get low to the ground. All of the lights in the venue went out. Confusion settled over the crowd, and everyone wondered the same thing: why couldn’t we see anything anymore? No answer came from Mr. Curry, as he kept instructing individual crowd members to get as low to the sticky ground as possible. Finally, after two or three minutes, my fellow concertgoers had just about had it. One long-haired teenager directly to my left even called out, “what the fuck, Denzel!”

Our collective perplexion ceased the second the first note to Denzel’s breakout hit, “Ultimate,” began to play. A collective “oh shit” hit everyone at once in that pitch-black room. Once those Ronny J-produced chords began playing, everyone bobbed their heads in unison to the reverbed instrumental. Denzel rose from the murky shadows as one of the hardest beats of the 2010s finally dropped. He offered us one single vote of encouragement, “let’s go!”

“I am the one, don't weigh a ton

Don't need a gun to get respect up on the street”

Pure pandemonium exploded from the moshing crowd as the stage lights flashed white light in sync with the song’s barbaric energy. Large clumps of people crashed into me in a spine-shattering blaze of energy. It took a minute for me to notice, but Denzel had brought his posse back on stage within the long period of darkness. Redveil, AG Club, and a mysterious man in a gray sweatsuit were all hopping around on the stage like kangaroos on ecstasy. When “Ultimate” finished, Denzel looked out into the crowd and asked, “how bout we turn shit up some more? What was that song y’all was playing before? Stick?”

Denzel was referencing Dreamville’s “Stick,” a 2022 posse cut that a DJ in between performances had played. “Stick” is one of the more brash, aggressive, and hard-hitting hip-hop songs in recent memory. With its easy-to-remember chorus and violent delivery, “Stick” has quickly become one of the most memorable songs to jump around to at a crowded concert. The mystery man sporting the charcoal sweatsuit removed his hood the moment “Stick’s” horn-led instrumental commenced. It was Kenny Mason, an up-and-coming rapper who belts “Stick’s” chorus. The crowd quickly realized who this surprise appearance was from and descended into fervorous anticipation. All of Terminal 5 was eager to help Kenny Mason if he somehow forgot any of the words. So when he finally screamed “Stick’s” chorus into the microphone, our entire venue was with him.

While not a terribly complex or substantive track, “Stick” definitely does know how to get a crowd moving. Large groups of young men proceeded to jump into one another while shrieking the “Stick’s” chorus with all their might. Kenny and Denzel jumped around the stage with an unmistakably savage glint in their eyes. 

When Kenny Mason finished “Stick” and bade farewell to the Manhattan stage, an unmistakable buzz lingered in the musty air. Denzel continued to capitalize on the excitement from the audience, making his way through fan-favorite songs like “X-Wing,” “SUMO,” “Ricky,” and “Speedboat.” Near the end of Denzel’s setlist, our crowd appeared to run out of gas. We were tired from jumping around for the past two hours, with no food or water to replenish us. Denzel took notice of the audience dragging and informed us, “don’t worry, I got one more song for y’all.”

The crowd knew what was coming, and a “U-L-T” chant slowly made its way throughout the audience. Once “ULT’s” airy and ambient instrumental began, piles of sweaty people steadily pushed back into each other one last time to form the largest mosh-pit possible. Denzel took note with an approving nod toward the crowd and began his opening verse with a dazzling display of passion:

This is the wrath of Aquarius

I am the black metal terrorist, ain't no comparison

Humanitarian, bitch I'm a veteran

Better than anyone comprehend

It felt like all of New York City was on stage with Denzel Curry at that moment, with thousands of people flawlessly rapping “ULT'' alongside him. When Denzel completed his rendition, the crowd began to cheer his name. I couldn’t help but feel great gratitude toward Denzel for the unforgettable experience I had just had. I could also discern a similar appreciation on Curry’s sweaty face when he looked into the audience one last time and called out: “New York, y’all were legendary! Thank you, good night!”