“Who cares about the party? I came to see the band play…” Toro y Moi, you took the words right out of my mouth. The decision to make the solo venture to the Greek Theatre on October 25th was an easy one. As a certified chillwave lover and eternal slave to synth, Toro y Moi–– aka Chaz Bear–– has been on my radar since Fjällräven Kånken backpacks and Doc Marten Mary Janes became ubiquitous among Tame Impala and Tyler the Creator fans alike. Known for his genre-bending sounds and ability to seamlessly blend indie, electronic, and funk, the East Bay artist played his largest show to date at the Greek Theatre. With Hole Erth, Bear’s 2024 pop-punk infused grunge departure from his signature indie sound, and a star-studded lineup of guest artists, the concert promised to be unforgettable.
My pregame plan of one and a half glasses of wine –– enough to keep me warm but sober –– worked perfectly, giving me just enough courage to headbob through the late October chill with Outer Peace (2019) spilling out of my headphones. My main concern for the night: Would I be able to make the most of my photo pass with no camera and an extremely temperamental iPhone? The three useless oversized lenses on the back of my phone had become a running joke among my friends, as my back camera was known to black out more than a freshman pledge on Halloweekend. Thinking back on my many failed attempts at candids, I wondered if Bear would do me the solid of just stealing my phone and taking a selfie. After picking up my hopefully-not-useless photo pass, I crossed my fingers while dodging clouds of street-dog smoke and rushed to get through security before Aminé’s set.
The pit was already a warzone, but I managed to weave through the crowd and claim a spot near the front. The audience was clearly divided: die-hard Aminé fans who knew every word to the Portland rapper’s Musical.ly anthems stood shoulder to shoulder with Toro fans who seemed to be waiting for the last bar of Aminé’s set to pass, each group respectively decked out in absurd Halloween costumes.
Aminé opened with two new songs that got a lukewarm reception, but quickly found his groove with viral classics like “Red Mercedes” and “Reel it In.” His cover of Charli XCX’s summer anthem “360,” backed by brat-adjacent Powerpoint slides with cheeky quips like “if it’s f— me then it’s f—you too,” felt like a playful nod to his internet-savvy audience. With a boatload of charisma and a well-meaning DJ who enthusiastically (yet awkwardly) mixed Young Thug’s “Lifestyle” with SZA’s “Supermodel,” Aminé won over the crowd. By the time the audience was belting, “Like a Tarantino movieeeee,” it was hard not to join in. Stand still, and you’d risk catching an udder to the face from a stranger in a cow onesie when the mosh takes over.
As Aminé left the stage, the vibe shifted. With no DJ between sets, my options for entertainment were the people performing pre-roll surgery next to me or the stage crew setting up. Stagehands wheeled a massive, futuristic rig of crowd blinders, three fog machines, and a myriad of instruments onto the stage. The anticipation was palpable. I was so distracted by the set up that I almost forgot to make my way to the photo pit before the first song. I waded through evacuating Aminé fans as the opening sirens of “Off Road” began to ring out. Game time. I flashed my photo pass to an unimpressed security guard who reluctantly scooted the metal barriers to let me through. Just as I positioned myself, Bear bursted onto the stage, waving a black flag emblazoned with white stars, the design of his new album cover.
The dramatic entrance was underscored by the gritty guitars of “Off Road,” introducing the audience to the pop-punky world of Hole Erth. Bear danced over ad libs that have become synonymous with late 2010s hip-hop, blending nostalgic Blink-182 guitar riffs with trap percussion bouncy enough for a Future freestyle. With projects like Uzi’s Pink Tape (2023) on the rise, it’s no surprise that rap has taken a punk-inspired turn, as we’re nearing the 20-year mark since the peak of the emo era. Despite the current oversaturation of punk-rap, Bear reminds the audience that he’s been pioneering the sound for years –– his 2013 collaborations with Travis Scott being a prime example. 
After the high-energy opener, Bear retreated to the back of the stage and settled behind the mixing board for a few songs. Here, he layered his signature harmonies into a lush, one-man choir that felt ripped straight from a My Chemical Romance ballad. Chock-full of 2000s electric guitar and crunchy blown-out bass distortion, tracks like “HOV” and “Tuesday” prove that Toro y Moi has always been ahead of the curve. By the end of the first act, my thumbs were itching to click “add to cart” on black fingerless gloves and a skinny scarf.
Rapper Duckwrth taking the stage
Keeping the energy high, Bear brought out multiple surprise guests. Duckwrth joined him for ‘Reseda,’ strutting onto the stage like he owned it. Kenny Mason appeared for a fiery rendition of “Smoke.” After shouting out early aughts inspirations like Daft Punk and The Postal Service, Bear introduced Death Cab for Cutie frontman Ben Gibbard for a hauntingly emotional performance of “Hollywood.”
After the angst of Hole Erth, Bear shifted gears to the funky groove of an older album, Outer Peace, my personal highlight of the evening. With a simple proposition –– “Who’s tryna dance?”–– Bear transformed the mosh pit into a dance floor, trading the vulnerable nostalgia of “Heaven” for the carefree swing of “Laws of the Universe.” A fan favorite, the audience immediately took Bear’s disco house bait, swaying their hips to the sweat-inducing bassline.
Martin killing the game
If he brought out the raw energy of a garage band in the first act, Bear surely displayed his stage musicians’ technical skills with the complexity of Outer Peace. A surprise addition to the band – a stylish elderly saxophone and flute player named Martin (pronounced with ze French “een”) – stole the show with Sinatra-level swag. Even the reluctant Aminé fans couldn’t help but frat flick as Martin took us home. I took one last photo of Martin before my back camera inevitably gave out –– my trusty steed had served me well. Following the rhythm of the crowd, I had no choice but to abandon my post as a journalist and surrender to Martin’s jazzy spell. Who was I to resist Kenny-G’s lesser-haired but equally suave doppelganger?
By the end of the night, I had a camera roll full of blurry photos and the physical urge to cut a sidebang. I guess the emo resurgence was infectious. As I stood in line for my post-show reward of a greasy bacon-wrapped dog I thought, Toro y Moi didn’t just bring the party –– he reminded us why we show up for live music: to be moved, surprised, and completely in the moment.
Article and Photos by Jessica Alano