Why you should check in on STOMP maybe once a decade or so

STOMP,. created by Luke Cresswell and Steve McNicholas. // Photo © Steve McNicholas

STOMP—a percussion band known for their creative use of random objects and junk—comes to Starlight Theater to perform their iconic but consistent show. 

Photo by Ellen Beshuk

Musically, this performance is impressive. Their coordination and accuracy stand out, as well as the variety of “instruments,” from the human body itself to trash cans, pop tubes, and matchboxes. But that is where the variety ends. 

They miss the mark on what, in my opinion, matters most in music—experimentation. While they experiment with the tools they use, it all somehow ends up sounding similar. They introduce the characteristic sound an object makes, establish all the different pitches, then get faster and faster until they drop off to silence. The coordination is especially impressive and the bizarre utensils make it entertaining, but they don’t create songs, only patterns of sound over and over again.

Perhaps this is the nature of percussion-only bands, but sometimes they do not even focus on the sound an object can make. For instance, at one point there are huge inner tubes. The performers bounce around and look intense while the only rhythm made is by a drummer in the back. The musical limits of the inner tubes are not explored, they are only visually interesting. 

There is some bits of storytelling throughout the show but takes some time to get into. The performance starts with a bunch of people randomly coming in to sweep the stage and eventually having a broom-fueled jam session. Later, after a sandy scene, the brooms are brought back out, because there is something to sweep. It makes sense to clean now, but doesn’t work as a first act. Often, a lot is going on visually and musically without an explanation. This chaos was entertaining as a child but is more exhausting as an adult. There are only so many no-context jam sessions I can jump into, I and wish the show added a stronger throughline. 

STOMP,. created by Luke Cresswell and Steve McNicholas. // Photo © Steve McNicholas

Not only do scenes seem random, but their order leaves the audience wanting more for much of the show. The particularly impressive parts are much shorter than some of the simpler scenes, and halfway through, my attention span needs more than what began the show. Especially after one of the most layered, entertaining acts is placed right in the middle of the show. It makes everything between it and the finale seem simple. While the performers kept the energy up for the entire 90 minutes, the humor and shock factors carry the show when the lack of variety can’t.

STOMP,. created by Luke Cresswell and Steve McNicholas. // Photo © Steve McNicholas

At least half the audience was young children and their parents. This results in a broad sense of comedy—simple jokes like friendly bantering, surprises, bathroom humor, personality quirks, and an unforeseen avenue of entertainment: twerking. That is to say that there is a lot of twerking that really begs the question, “Was this a necessary addition to keep the production current? Does it add anything?” When a cultural movement is played only for laughs, I’m unsure what to make of it. 

Besides the interesting humor choices, I am not sure how much changed from when I saw STOMP as a child. Not only do they keep many of the same props and jokes consistent from show to show, but within the production, there is a need for musical variety and creative ways to string the scenes together. Otherwise, I think the show would be just as enjoyable cut in half with only the best acts. There are moments of outstanding complexity, and the show has high-quality visuals. But now, almost ten years later, I can confidently say that STOMP is entertaining, only after a decade of forgetting their performance.

STOMP,. created by Luke Cresswell and Steve McNicholas. // Photo © Steve McNicholas