Post Malone

No point denying it: beyond all the usual against-mainstream-trap grumbling on social media and the fairly bland "Beerbongs & Bentleys" – his second album, and another career record in sales – anticipation for Post Malone's first live show in Italy was genuinely huge. That's because the rapper from Syracuse is, in his own way, a likeable popular phenomenon, and singles like "White Iverson" and "Go Flex" have shown that the guy is more than capable of delivering penetrating melodic hooks, inconsistent as he can be over the long haul.

Granted, Austin isn't exactly a lightning bolt of inventiveness or clever twists – rather, he's a cheerful, good-natured slacker who blends cloud rap with flashes of pure emo-pop, often with repetitive results. On top of that, he never takes himself too seriously, hamming it up with a scruffy, deeply affectionate appeal. His backstory, after all, is pure made-in-USA material: a member of a heavy metal band as a teenager, an unconditional love of basketball, his first mixtape made with Audacity at sixteen, and the right connections to take him a long way, see Trocon Markous Roberts and Sauce Lord Rich. Rock in Roma clearly sniffed out which way the wind was blowing, bringing the acclaimed American singer – never call him a rapper, he might jokingly take offense, as he's said more than once – to the Ippodromo delle Capannelle for a show that drew a crowd of twelve thousand, composed and rapturous in just the right measure, with a sizeable contingent of American fans scattered here and there, easy to spot and visibly thrilled.

The atmosphere is warm, and Rome's own Dark Polo Gang open the night by bounding onstage in their trademark style, stringing together a series of tasty trap bounces packed with amusing put-downs, with the irreverent "Cono Gelato" warming up the crowd and drawing a few smiles from the older members of the audience (not that many, to be honest). A whole different league is the performance of the wild Saint JHN, a trapper of Guyanese descent from Brooklyn. Fearless rhythms, beyond the usual fast hi-hats and overblown bass, and a dark vocal delivery dished out with a compelling urban-warrior mood make for an ultimately intriguing recipe. Good old Malone arrives after a long but bearable wait, amid the usual frenzy of smartphones and dimmed lights. He's essentially alone onstage and moves around remarkably well. The lack of any further elements onstage doesn't exactly strengthen the setting, and the karaoke effect kicks in more than once, but none of that seems to bother the younger generations, who are utterly spellbound by their idol.

A little weighed down by too many beers – not for nothing, shortly after the show a video surfaces showing Dark Polo Gang playing beer pong with the American – as he himself admits more than once between songs, complaining about his own gut, Malone still seems to be "on it", and manages to pull it off well despite the shaky start of "Better Now", unwisely chosen as the opener.

Things do go better, in fact, with tracks from his debut album, "Stoney", which boast noticeably fresher rhythms and more "gripping" refrains. Between one airy pirouette and the next, quick pauses with his usual "fuckin'" thrown into everything, Malone cheerfully works his way to the fireworks of the finale, kicked off by the acoustic ballad "Stay", which is handed over – surprise? – to a kid from the audience (Giuseppe, ed.) who plays it almost better than his own idol (who, it's worth noting, learned guitar via Guitar Hero), backing him up with fair confidence; "Go Flex", "Rockstar", "White Iverson" and the closing "Congratulations" bring a thoroughly enjoyable show to a fitting close, with fans in a frenzy, genuinely thrilled to have finally seen their idol in the flesh, incredibly, outside the screens of their smartphones.

Post Malone is no talent for the history books, and his beats, which all sound a bit too much alike, work against him more than once, but in his own way he left his mark on a scorching night. After the show, those sly, laid-back little tunes keep looping in your head, the kind that worm their way in everywhere, and from which you shouldn't expect anything more than satisfying moments and a healthy dose of carefree fun. Especially live.

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