OCTOBER 24, 2025 | ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT | By Oliv Janerico
If there’s one word to describe Playboi Carti’s show at Ball Arena, it’s loud. I’ve been to over a hundred concerts, and nothing has even come close to this decibel level or energy.
From the moment opener Ken Carson on Monday, Oct. 20, hit the stage, the crowd — dressed mostly in black, faces painted — was already moshing, shouting and losing its collective mind. Every person seemed locked into the same rhythm of chaos.
I originally decided to go to this concert because of Carti’s distinct voice: raspy, raw, and immediately recognizable, but it wasn’t just the sound that stuck with me. The vibe of the concert ended up being the real takeaway. There was something communal about the madness, like everyone was part of the same storm.
Carti’s aesthetic has always blurred the line between music and performance art and this show was no exception. The stage sat 15 to 20 feet above the audience, with backup performers wielding huge three-foot flashlights that sliced through a haze of smoke and fire. Visually, it was part horror movie, part underground rave. Unfortunately, the fog machines might have gone a little too hard at times, making it nearly impossible to see Carti himself. Eight fog machines sprayed from the central part of the arena, blocking the jumbo screen from cutting through the thick fog to capture Carti. The jumbotron also switched every three to five seconds, flashing glimpses of Carti and his background performers.
Adding to the intensity, Carti screamed into the mic for (at minimum) a quarter of the performance, more than any artist I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t just noise; it felt intentional, like he was feeding off the crowd’s energy and throwing it back twice as hard. The result was a performance that felt more like an exorcism than a concert.
One moment that caught me off guard came when Carti stopped the show mid-song after spotting someone who had fallen in the central mosh pit. The chaos paused for just a minute as he made sure everyone was okay before restarting the track with just as much intensity. It was a brief but meaningful reminder that even in the middle of mayhem, there’s a sense of care and community pulsing through his fanbase.
The lighting was both mesmerizing and overwhelming. The strobes went off at least every three seconds, red, white, green, pink and blue created a sensory overload that was equal parts exhilarating and exhausting. It matched the wild unpredictability of the night. When Carti performed mashups like Travis Scott’s “FE!N” and The Weeknd’s “Timeless,” the place erupted. My personal favorite moment came when he played “Sky,” which had the whole arena screaming every lyric in unison.
As if the night wasn’t already surprising enough, I got an unexpected upgrade. My seats were bumped from the 300 level to the 200 level due to construction. I wasn’t complaining. Being closer to the chaos made it all the more immersive, especially when people were jumping not just in the mosh pits, but even in the stadium seats.
The best part of the night wasn’t just the music, it was the crowd. Their passion, their fashion, the shared sense of abandon, it all came together to create something electric. This wasn’t just a concert; it was a cultural experience, a glimpse into a world with its own rules and rituals.
Overall, I’m glad I went. It pushed me outside my usual tastes and gave me a new appreciation for Carti’s genre and the community that surrounds it. Whether it’s a massive arena show or a tiny basement gig, go see live music. You never know what kind of beautiful chaos you’ll stumble into.