We all need a good little dance party sometimes. Everything in the world feels pretty scary at the moment, even more so than it has in previous years. It’s easy to get bogged down in the relentless churn of the bad news cycle. Staying optimistic about humanity gets increasingly difficult daily. Luckily, we’ve got artists like Genesis Owusu. The Australian-by-way-of-Ghana singer blends chaotic mixtures of rap and R&B into a wholly original concoction that somehow comes out closer to alternative than anything else. Those lucky enough to catch his incendiary Boston Calling set knew they would be in for a treat at an expanded live show at the Sinclair last Thursday. We got a ticket to the party!

Up first on the night was Godly the Ruler. I didn’t do my normal due diligence of mainlining an opening act’s entire catalog before the show, and I only secured my standing spot (in the tired elders’ mezzanine) mere seconds before he came on, so I was truly going into his set blind. Unsurprisingly, his set reminded much of Owusu’s territory – a multi-ingredient blend that strayed well past the bounds of rap. While his opening track was soft and moody, he followed it up with the raucous “Off With Your Head.” His music often resembled emo-rap, but less gimmicky than some of the scene’s biggest artists. Godly made sure the audience was never bored, switching wildly from melancholic songs to bangers to percussive tunes, while adding in a “mosh pit whistle,” something blown when things were about to get crazy. Another highlight was “Revenge,” which he introduced by saying simply, “This is a song about revenge.” The crowd was still filing in during his set, but he played to the back, getting a thick crowd moving quickly. All in all, it was a diverse and fun set, and a perfect preamble for what Genesis brought.

Owusu fans who caught his Calling set likely noticed the minimalist stage show that he brought – one background video showing his name on a loop, and a couple of daredevil dancers. At the Sinclair, he dug even deeper into it, standing alone on stage accompanied by nothing but a large box. The fans didn’t have to wait long to find out that the box was a light structure, as strobes went off almost immediately. Owusu opened with his recent single – and my favorite song of 2023 – “Leaving the Light,” an absolutely rollicking song that set the crowd on fire on impact. This was followed by another banger, “Survivor,” but Owusu slowed things down quickly. He gave excellent performances of the recent tracks “The Old Man” and “See Ya There,” the latter of which is a particularly soft R&B tune that represents the other end of the sonic spectrum for Owusu. He continued with a winding medley of influences and an eclectic set of songs new and old.

Owusu was extremely animated onstage, leaning heavily into his lyrics and dancing like the world was ending, but he didn’t actually address the crowd until late in the show. After an engaging rendition of his comedic, older hit “Don’t Need You,” he paused to formally introduce his new album, STRUGGLER. The album feels especially apropos in the current hyperspecific news cycle, as it hangs on to a concept of perseverance and empathy amidst global chaos. The album’s bouncy and catchy rhythms shield away some deep and metaphorical lyrics about manmade crises and those that overcome them. The record is littered with references to cockroaches, itself feeling like an icky contrast against the groovy melodies. The whole thing serves as a reminder about how easy it is to feel down, and how important it is to not stay down. It was a well-placed banter break, as he then jumped into one of the album’s biggest bangers., “Stay Blessed,” a song that pairs optimism with sheer energy.

Owusu played nine of the eleven tracks on STRUGGLER, with fantastic versions of the brooding “Balthazar,” the funky “Tied Up!” and the bouncy and curious “The Roach,” which was played as the encore. He peppered in a number of older tracks too, like the disco cut “WUTD,” and the super energetic “Get Inspired.” The set proper ended with an extremely emotional performance of his most endearing song, “A Song About Fishing,” which saw him abandon the light box and the stage completely, guided up to my elders’ mezzanine by a sea of cell phone flashlights. The song’s symbolic lyrics about depression took on a whole new life as a giant singalong, and it served as a weeping and phenomenal end to an unpredictable night. The show was an absolute party, and succeeded as a temporary distraction to the outside world. Much like the album it was promoting, it was a rewiring focused on optimism in spite of the state of things. Let’s all hope this party happens again.