Boycotting Seasonal Depression with Boyscott in Brooklyn
To counter the lingering effects of seasonal depression, I decided to channel the summertime by catching Boyscott supporting Summer Salt in Brooklyn. Despite the “polar vortex,” as lead singer Scott Hermo Jr. puts it, fans braved the cold, bundled and cuddled up, forming a line down the block and around the corner. In 6-degree weather (feels like -15), the only thing keeping me sane was the vision of a heated oasis. As temperatures continued to drop, anticipation rose.
However, as the clock hit 7pm, all was soon forgotten. As I stepped into Brooklyn Warsaw, only seconds away from hypothermia, I was met with a sort of ardor in the air, a zest that seems to loiter around any New York Venue. I thought to myself, this is what makes New York different. This is what musicians give their all for. This allure of glamor and stardom consistently makes New York the most sought-after venue. My theory was proved correct as Boyscott took the stage, transforming the seemingly normal venue into a summer safehaven and turning my hypothermia into heatstroke.
As the ultra-modern sounds of the previous opener, Wabie concluded, fans similar to myself found themselves weaving through the pit for Boyscott’s set. This ever-changing surf-rock 4-piece consisted of Scott (Guitar and Vocals), Tom (Guitar), Nick (bass), and Noah (drums), who delivered a memory-laced set saturated with mellow riffs and hazy vocals, complementary to Summer Salts’ trance-infused performance.
Coming off 4 back-to-back shows, this New York crowd was an unexpected wake-up call for the group, as the energy alone seemed to revitalize them. Well that, combined with the 10-year anniversary of their album Goosebumps. Fans were ecstatic as the band highlighted their top hits; screams and shrills reverberated off the walls, reiterating the same excitement as when the singles were originally released.
The marching, punch-filled drums of “Killer Whale” were in tandem with the up-and-down of jumping feet. Additionally, syrupy voices rang out with the sing-song nature of “Nova Scotia 500”. I found myself lingering between consciousness and subconsciousness during the cooing vocals of “Blonde Blood,” which ultimately left me in a heat-infused daze, despite the unforgiving cold waiting to pounce right outside.
It is safe to say Boyscott has a discography that commands you to move. Although it’s hard to stand still with a set laced with dynamic tempo changes, crisp cutoffs, and genuine dopamine. With a discography reminiscent of nostalgic summertime essentials such as summer camp, bonfires, and rope swings, Boyscott’s set served as a temporary cure to this seemingly eternal winter.
In the end, Boyscott took the crowd on a journey through Mother Nature’s backroads, right before handing off the keys to Summer Salts' beachfront property.
