Concert Review: Moby Rich Have A Good Name At Brooklyn Steel
“I LOVE YOUR NAME!” yelled a young, semi-drunk woman, with a Lit degree, that found their name witty. English Majors will love the pun on the classic, Moby Dick. Yet, it is not only a play on the book but also a play on the literal rich. At Brooklyn Steel, Moby Rich were like rock n’ roll Jesuses saying “No Heaven For You, Daddy Warbucks!”
Sonically, their music could fill a stadium. They are anthemic, pop-rock blasting through sound-systems to make you believe that you can kick-down any door like a ninja without ever even taking a karate class. Hence, they easily filled out the space of Brooklyn Steel in swag and sound. Yet, their sound panders to being and feeling big, but their lyrics are all about staying humble and ribbing on the egos that think mindfulness is tweeting out a yacht pic with the #blessed. In a way, their music happily fools you.
From “Yoko Ono” to “Oil Spill,” their music felt loud and splashy while completely judging those that live like that. Admittedly, I love my champagne and can be as colorful as a piñata when it comes to my style, but they are not simply talking about flashy fashions or enjoying a wine bar with friends. They are talking about the Jeff Bezos’ or Jeff Epsteins in the world that, somehow, support horrible systems like, ICE or human slavery, but still end up taking that yacht pic with the #blessed. (NOTE: There are a lot of rich jerks called Jeff. Discuss.)
With humor and panache, they serve their lyrics on a rocking, silver platter that elevates your spirit to not be fooled by egos. Yes, I would love to go on a yacht, but I would not love to do so in exchange for others’ suffering. Hence, I rather be a Moby Rich than a Moby Dick (pun intended) Click Here For More Information Moby Rich.
