Kyle and I got to the Odd Future concert early so as to get a good spot in line and be close to the stage. When the doors opened, we rushed into the room and put our hand right on the stage. It was poorly lit; dust danced in the red and purple concert lights above the wooden stage. The room began to fill, and the bar-sized room quickly started to feel more like a closet-sized room. Before I knew it I was in a very tightly packed mob of odd future fans; Kyle was nowhere to be seen.

The concert started and the mob began to move. We were many acting as one, willing or not. The beat moved us as one entity, ebbing and flowing with the ups and downs of the music. Some tried to fight it, thrashing against the mob, and try as they might, it was a battle that could not be won. We were all at the mercy of the sound.

People began crowd surfing to the stage. The crowd would pick them up in the back, throw them to the front, and a security guard would pull them on to the stage and escort them off. This continued throughout the night, it became as consistent as the pounding beat.

I struggled to stay alive in the unforgiving mob, pushing and shoving, throwing elbows when I could, knowing it was either them or me. However dangerous and painful, it was all worth it when Tyler, the star of this collective, came out. The crowd went wild.

An hour or so passed and I was ready for a break, away from the pit. I started to push and shove my way back through the chaos. On the way I ran into a very tall, lanky man with a thick beard; he wasn’t letting me through.

“Oh, sorry,” I shouted over the music as I tried to get by.

“You want up?” he asked, mishearing me.

“Yeah man,” I replied, mishearing him.

As I moved away he grabbed me under my arms and lifted me up on to the crowd. The room opened up, I could see the ocean of people bouncing and dancing to the music, the closet sized room became an auditorium-sized room.

The crowd moved me; I rolled and turned on the uneven surface. I had no sense of right, left, up or down. I felt not gravity, but only the hands of those below me, moving me toward the front. I tried to focus my vision on the fast approaching stage, looking for my security guard to pull me from the chaos. The crowd gave me one last heave toward the stage, and I reached my hand out for assistance, but no security guard was in sight. Disoriented and confused, I landed flat on the stage.

I stood up slow and looked out at the crowd, hundreds of people churning in the pit, all staring up at me. I was drenched in the brightly colored stage lights from head to toe. To my left was Tyler The Creator, and to my right was Hodgy Beats, not five feet away. I was star struck.

The thought of the security guards hits me, so I decide to make my way off the stage before they saw. I find the stage exit, and pass a security guard who stumbles over a,

“Hey! You can’t be here,” as I walk by; but I was already gone, back into the bar-sized room.

Quin Hoffman