I don’t usually enjoy getting duped by TikToks implying that Steve Lacy is dropping unreleased music but Malcolm Todd’s are an exception. I first heard snippets of his hit song “Roommates” last year on my For You feed and shared the same sentiment as thousands of commenters on his post: release it now! Since then, twenty-year-old Todd has released “Roommates,” dropped his debut album Sweet Boy, and embarked on a tour with a two-night, last stop in L.A. I had to experience his mix of groovy, alternative RnB music live and so did the city. As I did a wrap-around in search of the cheapest parking lot I could find, eager people were lined up near an LA Fitness –not for Monday’s leg day– but for the historic 1920s Fonda Theater splaying the words “MALCOLM TODD” on the other side of the block.
The night starts with two openers: Luke Tyler Shelton, a friend of Todd’s, and DJ Charlie Addis. Shelton’s rich guitar strumming and strong voice in addition to his keyboardist captivate the crowd into a gentle sway. As he performs his new song “Anna” about everlasting love, I find myself (not) jealous of the various couples around the room. Fortunately, Addis’ set transforms the room dramatically with upbeat rap and pop songs. Iconic hits from Tyler, the Creator to Azelia Banks and Kendrick Lamar energize the restless crowd that forms mini mosh-pits in the back. Their restlessness reaches a tipping point when the dark blue stage curtains rise and the main act begins.
Sweet Boy is the setlist’s obvious highlight, the album’s bittersweet theme of lost love, letting go, and heartbreak is not missed even among the funky riffs and quick beats the crowd bounces along to. Todd opens with “Art House,” another hit previously teased on TikTok and a fan favorite. With resonant guitar strums and smooth vocals singing about finally letting go filling the air, I think I can too. The mounting tempo and bouncing red and green lights to the lyrics “I lost you but maybe now I won” in “Rodrick Rules” build up to a guitar solo that reminds the audience that losing someone isn’t always the end of the world. In some cases, it’s good riddance. But reminiscing is not the dominant mood of the night.
The balanced mix of Todd’s earlier singles and EPs as well as two covers: “Vehicle” by The Ides of March and “Babydoll” by Dominic Fike ensured a dynamic energy from both crowd and performer. Steadily rising voices, thrown-up hands, and quickening lights demanded by “Mr.Incorrect” were balanced by the smooth rocking brought on by “Intercourse.” Todd reveals that he doesn’t know how to write love songs, save for “Rockstar Boyfriend” which he dedicates to his girlfriend Natalia, but love is palpable in the air. At his request, a chorus of “I love you” rings among the crowd from balcony to barricade as they say it to friends and strangers alike.
From the futuristic echoes of “Starstudded” that invite a floating, first-love kind of feeling to the pulsating notes of “I’ll be okay / I’m moving on / And you’re losing me” in “Thailand,” it’s obvious that Todd continues to grow with each release. As a fellow twenty-year-old (a terrifying admittance), it’s comforting to hear music that encapsulates the complicated, vulnerable, and exhilarating realities of one’s twenties. These feelings are much easier to accept in The Fonda’s intimate environment, surrounded by teens and young adults under glowing lights who scream along to the same.
Tonight’s performance is further inspired by the excitement of ending the past five weeks’ tour in an L.A. venue 20 minutes away from where Todd calls home. And that excitement is mirrored by the crowd effortlessly as they participate. From the lone Nintendo DSi held up to record, to the impromptu BeReal taken on stage by Todd and his band members as the crowd screams “cheese,” and the off-tune but valiant attempts to sing the melodies, everyone is determined to immortalize the night.
Todd and his musicians attempt a quick escape near the end of the set and the crowd loyally chants for one more song, sure of their return. Excuses of Todd having stubbed his toe and that he can’t continue only provoke one individual to yell, “That has nothing to do with his voice!” He’s proven right. Vibrant blue and green lights gleam on both the band and crowd as chants of “I want to tell you I love you, but I cannot reach you / I’m learning to lose, that’s the thing they don’t teach you” bounce off the checkered floor in tandem with stomping feet. As the concert ends with a tribute to the song that introduced me to Malcolm Todd, I’ve never been more grateful for the semi-deceiving TikTok promotion and the successful rising artist that emerged from it.
