Homeshake at Brooklyn Steel in New York City

Imagine you’re 14 years old. You’ve just smoked your first joint and you’ve never felt more at ease. Colors feel more saturated, sounds overcome your senses, and suddenly you’re craving Flamin'-Hot Cheetos. That feeling was mimicked last week by the infamous Homeshake on March 22nd. Their specific brand of indie psychedelia with a dash of synth pop truly took the edge off the fact that I was standing in a crowd of people at least three years my junior in the metal box they call Brooklyn Steel.

The band is made up of Mac Demarco disciples, feeding the audience the same “feel-good vibes” as the beach-rock classic man himself (which explains the young crowd). Their uniqueness, derivative from other bands such as these, is hard to decipher due to their similar thematic elements and same musical tropes. However, that lax attitude feels as though it was lost in the space.

Homeshake was meant to play smaller venues. Not necessarily because of their fan base all being below the age of 21, but because they try to assume an intimacy that doesn’t come off in a larger space like this one. I felt an odd dissonance between the music and the venue as if they were competing for the crowd’s attention. However, the music gave me both a feeling of euphoria and a twinge of embarrassment for half-liking skater-boy-indie music this late into my 20’s. I felt as if I were caged in a space that looked like a factory used to make World War II weapons, but I remembered the music.

The music took me back to a freshman wasteland of shaggy carpets and living in one room with three people; a place I had hoped never to be brought back to, but was glad to reminisce in vicariously through the hopeful 17-year-old who threw up out the window at her very first frat party. Overall, the show was lacking the performance elements that other artists flaunt effortlessly, regardless of the sentimentality I was experiencing. And although very well coordinated and clearly talented... they failed to be seen as nothing more than surfers on a stage.

Sam Klainberg is a junior at Pratt Institute who spends her time making playlists and looking at art. Her love for music stemmed from her father and the diversity of his record collection.

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