HOKO Live On Tour At The Bowery Ballroom

The Bowery Ballroom hosted the Brooklyn-born band, HOKO, on the evening of Wednesday, August 23rd. On tour in support of almost monday and the WEATHERS, HOKO branded their name into the minds of their modest but curious New York City audience. This fifteen stop USA tour is HOKO’s first tour debut, and they are making sure to impress along the way. Through the vehicle of their experimental style, they are refreshing the palettes of listeners with a sound unlike anything they’ve ever heard.

Photograph by Sophie Gurwitz

Bodies trickled into the ballroom as time climbed towards HOKO’s set. Conversation vibrated across the floor, people expressing their excitement about the headliners and a few eager to watch HOKO’s set, while others volleyed HOKO’s name around with intrigue. 

When the lights dimmed, everyone’s attention was pulled towards the darkness resting on stage. Blue light hues swirled across faces of the crowd while the band presented themselves on stage. Bass came through the floor, tugging at peoples’ bones, demanding their presence. After a minute long introduction of pure sensation, the first guitar riff electrified the atmosphere to kick-off a night of music.

Photograph by Sophie Gurwitz

HOKO opened with their song “Pretender.” Dense guitar riffs and confident vocality drew the audience into captivation. Their sound projected something heavier than the typical pop-rock song. The tones and intensity of the instrumentals almost felt dark – not in a dangerous way but in an enticing manner.

It was impossible to name a comparable sound to them, they felt fresh. Listeners bounced around artist names, “COIN,” “Bleachers,” “B-52’s,” “Zeppelin.” That vast of a name pool proved testament to their individuality.

Photograph by Sophie Gurwitz

It’s difficult to be truly unique in the music industry, to not fall into the coddle of a niche, to not be a genre artist. HOKO has taken the liberty of demolishing musical barriers, and redefining flexibility in relation to their production. Their sound cannot be labeled, for they are rock, they are electric, they are pop, they are psychedelic. They are ever-evolving. As the night progressed, it became evident that something of impressive massivity is to come from HOKO.

Photograph by Sophie Gurwtiz

Lead singer, Nathaniel Hoho, absorbed the ballroom’s energy and gave a rockstar level performance. He got in the crowd to mosh with the audience. He climbed atop speakers, and entertained the cameras. He engaged with fans in between songs. Half way into their set, it became hard to believe HOKO had never toured prior to this, for their presence suggested years of being fluid and daring on the stage. Their performance felt too big for a stage the size of Bowery’s.

Photograph by Sophie Gurwitz

One of HOKO’s most popular songs, “Candy Eyes,” gripped the evening when it made its way through the setlist. Guitarist and esteemed string player, Jesse Kotansky, brought out his violin for the song. To hear the harmony of the violin with Hoho’s powerful voice was a beautiful display of musical juxtaposition. Versatility receives respect from concert goers. Though a handful of the audience didn’t know of HOKO before the show, they were sure to remember them after the night the band gave them.

Photograph by Sophie Gurwitz

Their production value implied experimentation and play as a priority. The boldness, the confidence, the yearn to perform created a high that everyone suspended in. People finally began to move their bodies and sing along with the band, as if they developed a sort of trust with HOKO’s sound. A sureness between the classicality of rock and the future of pop.

Photograph by Sophie Gurwitz

Unfortunately, HOKO’s set was merely a half hour long. The show could have carried into the next set and closed out the night, alas Weathers and almost monday had shows of their own to put on. Hoho brought the evening to a clean close when he jumped down into the crowd, parted the mass of bodies in half, and disappeared through the back of the crowd. 

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