Post Malone puts himself on tightrope
So, the face tats may not age incredibly well — who knows — but Post Malone is quickly building a body of songs that could stand the test of time.
On Monday night, he brought that batch to a soldout PPG Paints Arena, where, four years ago, he was doing “White Iverson” and other early songs in the opening slot for Justin Bieber.
Posty returned as one of the hottest pop stars on the planet, having scored “so many hits, can’t remember them all.” Nine hit the top 10 over the last four years and when his latest album, “Hollywood’s Bleeding,” came out in September, “Beerbongs & Bentleys” was still high on the charts.
If Wiz Khalifa is a KK achiever, Post Malone is a Bud Light one.
After opening sets by Tyla Yaweh and a dynamic, athletic Swae Lee, Malone appeared through a fog, close to 10 p.m., sporting the airbrushed “RIP MAC MILLER” shirt he first unveiled the week after the Pittsburgh rapper’s death. (He left it at that.)
Having worked their way up from the bottom, where just about everyone starts, arena headliners generally enjoy the privilege of using the full stage. You would expect that even more from a big Texan. Malone did the opposite. Where the stage usually stands, it was just screens and Malone spent the entire 90 minutes on a short ramp that jutted into the crowd under a black rectangular box that created the moody lights, lasers and fog.
It put Malone on a physical and emotional tightrope, and gave the show the sort of constricted, claustrophobic feel that pervades many of his haunted songs.
He stated that his mission was to get “f-ed up” and sing his “sh---ty songs,” and for that, he carried a blue Solo cup throughout as he stomped and staggered along the ramp. At one point, he said, “I played beer pong before the show, so if you know the words help me out with this one.”
Despite introducing a number of the songs, Posty didn’t work the crowd “like a rock star.” He thanked the fans, frequently, but he was more in his own head, singing over the track, pouring raspy emotion into the often wounded songs.
On “Fall Apart,” a song “for everyone who ever had their heart broken,” he writhed and dangled perilously along the front edge of the ramp. He’s not the most agile dude -- kind of like a less funny Seth Rogen as a frontman -- so it was uncomfortable to watch. Those moments, of course, were offset by more celebratory, bouncy jams like “Saint Tropez,” “Circles” and “Candy Paint.” A 30-something woman in front of me was so excited, she fell right into the aisle.
On future outings, he’ll likely add live musicians. On the Runaway Tour, Malone had no one to interact with, so it was almost a relief when the Prince of Darkness, Ozzy Osbourne, appeared on the screen, wild-eyed, to howl the intro to “Take What You Want.” It would have been badass to have seen the ripping guitar solo done live -- by someone other than Malone, of course.
“I know I can’t play guitar as well as that last song,” he said. But he plays, and he changed the pace by sitting down with an acoustic to accompany himself on “Stay,” about the closest he gets to Ed Sheeran. Like the emoish British sensation, he’s most definitely hit a nerve with people’s tender feelings here in the early 21st century.
Late in the set, Swae reemerged, in his resplendent black and yellow, for a run through “Sunflower,” their breezy “Spider-Man” soundtrack hit. Malone didn’t play guitar on “Rockstar,” but he did bust one into the floor at the end of the smashing hit.
By the end, when the camera zoomed into his face, the singer seemed spent, pained.
“‘White Iverson’ was the song that changed my f---ing life, you know. My life changed in so many positive ways, but at the same time, my life changed in negative ways as well.”
At that point, we were like “uh-oh.” But he turned that into a positive, saying the people who talked [down] to him, told him he was nothing but a one-hit wonder, were wrong.