It’s hard to think of an artist whose fortunes changed as abruptly as Shaboozey’s did last year. Featured on two tracks on Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter (which he only found out on the album’s release), he became the poster boy of a revolution in country music overnight – one disrupting Nashville with Black cowboy aesthetics and trap and hip-hop mashups. The release of A Bar Song (Tipsy) just two weeks later was impeccable timing: it became a viral sensation, eventually tying Lil Nas X’s Old Town Road for the longest-running Billboard Hot 100 No 1.
It is curious, then, that Shaboozey finds himself performing at the 1,500-capacity Koko. Though sold out, the venue seems minuscule compared to the scale of his radio and chart domination. But it’s an appropriate choice – unencumbered by the recurrent pressure on early-career artists to pack out oversized venues and maximise returns. The vibe is intimate, focused on the close chemistry with his three-piece band, who blow the roof off with some thunderously loud peaks.
The show is a journey through the Old West. He plays the scorned lover when performing Anabelle, and on All Men Die the outlaw who punishes a friend who “wanna be John Wayne” and betrays him. All the while he’s swigging Jack Daniel’s , though admits that he needs to slow down.
He’s not wrong there. Whether it’s mild intoxication or vocal limitations, at times the balance between country drawl and indecipherable mumbling is thrown off-kilter. He is admirably vulnerable introducing Steal Her from Me as a song about heartbreak, but without controlled vocals it blurs into mopey warbling. He’s at his best, clear and confident, when rapping over trap drums and 808s on Beverly Hills and hip-hop breakbeats on Sticks and Stones.
Still, Shaboozey charms in his more sincere moments. He says that when writing lyrics he visualises friends around campfires counting stars in the sky. On Finally Over, he’s candid about wanting to keep hold of those connections and not lose himself to fame. It is in country music, he says, that he has felt confident voicing such precise emotions and found comfort in life’s small graces. When he closes with Tipsy he runs into the crowd. It’s a little awkward, but the intimacy seems as important to him as the music.
