Poppy

Arriving twenty minutes late, Poppy and her accompanying band mates were the warm-up to a concert venue whose seats were still half empty. With her hair tied up and an oversized t-shirt on, Poppy looked more like an angsty teen who had just come downstairs for breakfast; definitely not like rockstar material for the older concertgoers who were looking to “rock and roll”. 

If attendees thought they could just glaze over Poppy’s set while waiting for the main bands to come on stage, they thought wrong. It didn’t take many of her awing high-pitched, guttural screams that left the skin crawling for those seated to have their eyes glued to the stage. 

Poppy’s set felt like an industrial pop-punk fever dream. The energy was there, the guitar riffs, and the sudden power chord-changes that halted into abrupt melodies left an impression on everyone present. If this had been her own concert, she could have been done more justice. Yet she was forced to end short of her twenty-minute set time due to the late appearance.