Danny Brown smiles on San Francisco

It takes a uniquely seasoned artist to easily command a stage without force, smile at his own lyrics, and communicate the same reverence for his audience that they give him. On Thursday night in San Francisco, Danny Brown did just that. The Detroit-born rapper’s April 4 show at the Regency Ballroom celebrated his most recent album, Quaranta (2023), while also displaying the variety of his discography. The show’s diverse lineup spanned genres and generations, beginning with a smooth set by Bruiser Wolf and Raphy, followed by Alice Longyu Gao, who refuses to be put in any box, and culminating with Danny Brown’s impactful performance. At the end of the night, it was clear that each of these artists demands to be seen live. 

I arrived just as Bruiser Wolf, a member of the Bruiser Brigade first mentioned by Danny Brown on XXX (2011), performed with Raphy (producer of Wolf’s debut album) behind him. At a time where stardom seems to visit itself swiftly on ever-younger artists, both Wolf and Brown communicate an increasingly unique perspective of people who have lived lives before their musical careers — lives that they continue to live alongside them. Surprisingly, Wolf’s poetic and personal lyrics, such as in his last song “Momma Was a Dopefiend,” did not receive much engagement from the audience despite Wolf’s disclaimer about the song’s emotional quality. However, his distinct, almost spoken-word style left its presence on the stage as he exited.

Alice Longyu Gao, all bravado in bows, arrived on stage alone save for a harp, a MacBook, and some audio equipment at the ready. They confidently sang, DJ’d, danced, jumped, and engaged with an audience that initially seemed unsure about how they were “supposed to” react to Gao. Gao’s unrelenting energy and evident love of music made them a standout of the night to me. Beginning with the intro to their 2023 album Let’s Hope Heteros Fail, Learn and Retire, Gao recounts a nightmare about “That guy! Yes, that heterosexual guy! / His hands were on my thighs / We were in a shitty club / Surrounded by a sea of his hetero friends.” The song seemed to beg the question: was that not the very sea we were then adrift in?

While an enthusiastic crew of fans jumped in the middle of the floor, phones at the ready to record Gao’s performance, many more men with slack, performatively bemused expressions populated the audience. As Gao went on to reference their supposed fantasy of having “one hundred boyfriends on a farm,” I almost thought they were joking as I observed the overwhelming amount of young men laid out before them in the crowd. However, their skepticism did not make Gao falter; as Gao went on to perform the track “100 Boyfriends,” the rest of the audience members couldn’t help but enjoy themselves for the rest of the set.

Cast into the hyperpop world — a world which existed long before going mainstream, where it was celebrated and then quickly labeled a fad by music critics — Gao’s approach to genre is refreshing; contemporary music’s embrace of genre-bending music has seemingly led to a fear of claiming a label for oneself. Gao, meanwhile, before launching into their unreleased shoegaze song—which they made because they like shoegaze—said enthusiastically, “I don’t really know what I’m doing; I just love music.” They announced that the next song was their “metal song.” Gao’s claim to both their own musicality and various genres contributes to a self-confidence that seems as if it belongs to a seasoned artist. 

High-energy, in-your-face, unflinching, playful, and sometimes outrageous, Alice Longyu Gao’s presence on a setlist alongside Danny Brown made increasing sense to me. They both clearly hold piercing perspectives and an appreciation for music and their fans. Firmly grounded in 2023, the titular track of Gao’s debut album mentions “drag brunch,” “Apple Pay,” “Haus Labs,” and an “LGBT-OB-GYN.” Their song “Come 2 Brazil” plays with music industry jokes. Both Brown and Gao build their own worlds, reflecting something of our reality viewed through a reference-heavy kaleidoscope.

When Danny Brown emerged, clad in a shell-like, mid-calf-length gray zip-up jacket and exaggerated black boots, he did not have to say a single word for the crowd to quiet. He exuded a stage presence of gentle gravity as he began the first track of his November 2023 album Quaranta. On the album cover, Brown appears alone, half his face cast in shadow, with a mournful yet piercing regard for the viewer. On Quaranta, Brown’s vocals range from more grounded and serious, as in “Celibate,” to his classic high-energy voice, through which one can almost hear his facial expressions, in “Tantor.” The album has been assigned a clear story, one of sobriety, growth, and movement—but his work has always been about contrast, raw and grounded in reality.

Although on tour for Quaranta, Brown only performed the first four songs from the album. The first track cuts to the chase; Brown begins with “This rap shit done saved my life / And fucked it up at the same time.” At 43, the artist reflects on his emergence into the music scene and the pivotal role of XXX in his career. He continues, “Now I’m sitting here, questioning what life is about / Can you separate the life from the music?” In contrast to Gao, Brown focuses on an artist’s experience being an artist; like Gao, he performs about performing. 

A few songs later, Danny Brown paused, regarded the audience with a smile, and said, “Hi, my name is Daniel.” This simple introduction brought a sense of himself, as a person, not just a performer, to the stage. It also contrasted with the density of his lyrics. The audience hung equally on his every word. 

Danny Brown performed songs from his wide-ranging repertoire, exuding a comfort with performing alone on a bare stage. 2023’s SCARING THE HOES, a collaboration album with JPEGMafia, contains many of Brown’s most listened-to tracks. Brown’s performance of them made them distinctly his own. 2013’s Old (Fool’s Gold Records) contained some of the most energetic songs of the set, namely “Smokin & Drinkin” and “Side B [Dope Song].” His evocative lyrics weave comedy seamlessly into his music, while other artists struggle to fit humor into the asides between songs on a setlist. 

All night, Danny Brown’s positivity radiated through the space. He smiled and waved at a couple of ultra-excited pre-teen boys in the front of the crowd, twice. He danced by himself, unabashedly. He smirked at his own lyrics. He expressed an appreciation for the Bay Area’s influence on his work. He complimented his openers, genuinely. And he remained excited about the future of his own musical career as well, talking about how he had to get back to his hotel room that night to continue work on his next album so that he could return to perform once again. It took little goading for Brown to return for an encore, during which he performed “Side B [Dope Song].” Like “Quaranta,” the song also begins with a direct statement of his age: 31 at the time of its release. On an evening in 2024, though, the presence of the song on the setlist seemed to serve one main purpose: interacting with his fans. They danced, jumped, and sang along, and Brown seemed grateful for it. 

Article and photos by Liv Bjorgum