Bayonne and Bad Snacks centered friendship in their colorful, psychedelic recordBar show
Bayonne, accompanied by Matt Toman, performing at recordBar on Sept. 28. / Photo by Olivia Steele.
All I knew about Bayonne going into this show was that he’s musically inspired by Enya and Air, the latter being one of my favorite artists ever. That was enough confirmation for me to go. I walked into recordBar as a pre-show mix reminiscent of Blood Orange played, turned to the merch stand, and saw Bayonne-branded hot sauce for $15, nearly as much as the Quirk I bought at the bar.
Bad Snacks took the stage at 8 p.m. to set the mood, entrancing the audience in her wicked violin/singing/live electronica production act. Frankly, I’ve never seen someone multitask the way that she can. She’s playing an electric guitar, looping it, and composing one of her songs on the spot, accompanying herself vocally. She does this all while professing her love to the audience in Kansas City in great conversation.
After opening with two songs, she decided the room’s energy was busting at the seams, so she switched it up and played some “party songs” to match the crowd’s vibes. “moon bloom,” a dreamy house mix, did exactly that. I looked across the front row, and saw nearly everyone dancing, eyes shut and smiling. Bad Snacks smiled back. She kept this KAYTRANDA-esque energy throughout her set, before playing “Quiet Confidence,” a collaboration with Uyama Hiroto on piano and saxophone. She spent a couple of minutes fangirling over his work before playing the track, which is set to release on October 16. Her energy is contagious. God, I love when people are passionate!
She closed out her set with “alright, ok,” making friends with the audience as we call-and-responsed with her. Or, in her own terms, gaslit ourselves into believing, if it wasn’t true. “I’m alright, I’m okay,” I’m alright, I’m okay, “Alright, okay!” Alright, okay! After we were all lyrically acquainted, she joined her best friend working her merch stand to enjoy Bayonne’s set.
Bad Snacks performing at recordBar on Sept. 28. / Photo by Olivia Steele.
Bayonne got on stage a few minutes after 9 p.m., with Roger Sellers beginning the set alone before Matt Toman joined on drum accompaniment. Toman quickly became a crowd favorite. I counted two or three different “Matt! Matt! Matt!” chants from behind me. Friendship was woven in the seams of the show, from Bad Snacks’s best friend selling her merch, to Sellers and Toman’s friendship of over 15 years, to friends in the crowd dancing with each other and with strangers. I should’ve packed my friendship bracelets with me. I also should have packed a box of tissues for Sellers, who was singing so intensely that he had to blink back emotion multiple times. “I got teary there, guys.”
In addition to singing his heart out, Sellers and Toman drummed their hearts out, replacing my own heartbeat with a thumping pulse in my chest. They drummed so hard, two drumsticks broke throughout the show, flying across the stage mid-song. Combining their drumming style with Sellers’s progressive vocals, I was reminded a bit of “Clocks” by Coldplay–similar in emotional buildup and release. Sellers also visually guides the music along, seemingly seeing something nobody else can. He’s pinching soundwaves in the air and moving them to where he sees fit, releasing them when it no longer serves him or he’s onto the next few notes. It’s musical reiki, in a sense.
Throughout the show, I picked up notes of Tame Impala, Blood Orange, and the aforementioned Enya and Air. If we’re going to compare Bayonne to other artists, he sonically resembles a progressive version of Tame Impala’s Currents. I also enjoyed the amount of nostalgia infused in the show, from 8-bit breaks to an intro similar to wind chimes at grandma’s house or an ice cream truck pulling into the street.
I also enjoyed how informal the show was. It was Bayonne, some of his pals, and his newfound friends in the sold-out crowd having a jam. He shit-talked the night before’s crowd (sorry, Oklahoma City), compared us to them frequently and called us the fun crowd. To be fair, Bayonne caught OKC on a Sunday night. He sewed the informality and nostalgia together by holding off on a song to tune his guitar, then playing the N64 Goldeneye 007 pause-menu music to keep us entertained. Toman added beats.
After the show wrapped up in a “Rainbow Road” sort of ending, I left the show hearing colors and seeing sparkles dotted across the skyline. And Bad Snacks, if you ever read this, I’m sorry I was so weird when I came up to you at the merch stand after the show. Your smile made me nervous, and I was too flustered to hold conversation. You are very talented and beautiful and wonderful, and though I’m not an anime fan, I will become one; I promise.
