Yung Lean’s 'Stardust' Tour Review — December 1st at Rebel

Sounds | Mike Furlong

December 1st, a Thursday night, my friend Leo and I hopped in an Uber headed to Rebel, one of the biggest clubs in the city. I had heard lots of talk about the place but neither of us had been. We were on our way to see Yung Lean, easily one of the most original and singular voices in music of the last decade. Yung Lean shows are not exactly like other rap shows; to say he has a cult following is an understatement. Fans of him consider themselves almost a crew or family; meeting another Yung Lean fan out in the world is almost like finding a unicorn, often leading to instant friendship. Me and Leo are both huge fans and we sat in the Uber all smiles, not really knowing what we were going to experience that night but knowing it was going to be a good time.

For those who don’t know, Lean was one of the first Soundcloud rappers to hit the Internet way back in 2013 (three years before Lil Pump touched a mic). Some people will tell you that some of Future’s singles from 2011 were the start of ‘mumble rap’, but that’s not what I mean when I say Soundcloud rappers. Lean was a Swedish kid living in Stockholm who loved Chief Keef and Waka Flocka Flame and wanted to do what they do: making music with his high school classmates in a basement, they started uploading music to Soundcloud in the hope somebody somewhere would listen. Fast forward to 2022, Lean has made some of the biggest contributions to the idea of what rap music is today: the cloudy, psychedelic textures of his beats and his lyrical universe of science fiction, fantasy, video games, and horror movies were hugely influential to some of the genre’s biggest artists like Travis Scott (Travis talks about how much he loves Lean all the time).

After twenty-five minutes of hopping up and down to keep warm while we waited in line, we were finally let in. I got a few drinks while we waited for the show to start, sandwiched in between people on all sides as we tried to inch closer to the stage. The energy in the room was electric, everybody wearing their best fits, eyes darting around looking for friends in the sea of dyed-hair heads. The opening act comes on, a duo called Nation: a DJ and a skinny guy with a snapback and shoulder-padded leather jacket rapping over throwback Euro-techno. Weird vibe, but I wouldn’t expect any less from someone opening for Lean.

Nation finishes their set and we all wait with bated breath for who we came for. Finally, Lean comes out in some kind of hooded black robe with his DJ, Woesum, who produced almost half the tracks on Lean’s last album, Stardust. He gives us some anecdote about not having been in Toronto for a minute as the 808s of the first song come in; everybody in the room is going crazy, the floor shaking from everyone jumping. The first few songs are throwback bangers from Lean’s earlier discography and then all of a sudden the Russian post-punk sample from “Bliss”, a new song this year featuring FKA Twigs, gets the Pharrell four-count. Everyone loses their minds. Lean’s voice sounds surprisingly good live, hitting every bar with energy.

Somewhere in this early part of the set I realize I am not with Leo anymore and am now about three rows from the stage, right in front of Lean’s mic. I thought we were packed in tight before, but now I literally can feel elbows pushing my ribs in on all sides as everyone jumps to “Kyoto”. As we go through the middle of the set, more and more of my favourites get played, with Lean bending down to us to dap everyone up, keeping the energy going. There’s a good mix of his music, with a few songs you can mosh to followed by some of his quieter, more introspective pieces.

By the last quarter of the set we’re all drenched in sweat, with the occasional person losing balance and sending a wave across the crowd; we all sway forward and then back, hoping not to fall under the crowd. The beautiful pad sound from “Red Bottom Sky”, one of his best, comes on and we all collectively sing the intro. The crowd yells, “Ice, dropping, red bottom sky” as the whole room is bathed in red light. I’ve seen lots of live music over the years but hearing this song in that crowd was special.

Lean’s second last song is “Agony”, a stripped-bare piano ballad that’s in part about his struggle with bipolar disorder. You’ve probably heard the synth melody section of this song on Tiktok over sad slideshow videos. He sits on the edge of the stage, mic in hand, singing his heart out. Everyone sings every word with him.

By the time the show is over, I’m pretty much sober and ready to go. I find Leo, we get our jackets, and immediately start talking about how amazing it was. Everyone slowly files out chattering about the show and what the next move is; I hear house parties, other clubs, and bars are in the mix for the rest of the night. Leo and I are done for the night and want to be back in our beds; we’ve both spent too much money tonight as it is.

“Shit. The Uber’s like $80, bro.”