Post Malone interrupted his happy homecoming concert Tuesday night at the Bomb Factory to address an old grievance from his days growing up in D-FW.
"Everybody laughed at me," said the 22-year-old singer-rapper. "They said I didn't deserve it." Then he flashed a big smile, guzzled some more beer, and launched into "Congratulations," his smash hit about how people who once mocked him now pat him on the back.
For Austin Richard Post, multi-platinum success is bittersweet revenge.
There's no telling exactly how many former skeptics were among the 4,000 fans who packed into the sold-out show. But there had to be a few, at least. When Post gave a shout-out to his alma mater, Grapevine High School, the crowd roared.
Fans pushed and shoved to get closer to the stage, and several young women wilted and had to be carried away by beefy security guys. Even the stage was crowded, as dozens of Post's family members and friends crept out of the wings for a better view.
Post didn't disappoint. Affable and animated, he dork-danced and finger-pointed his way through an hour-long set of eerie songs -- mostly about standard hip-hop topics like fame, money, booze and women.
But the twist is that he isn't your typical hip-hop artist. A big, baby-faced white dude with long hair and gee-whiz smile, he looked less like a rap star than some nerdy stoner wandering around Comic-Con.
And unlike most rappers who try to sing, Post is actually good at it. Granted, his live singing was hard to hear at times amid the ever-present taped backing vocals and the explosions of ear-splitting bass that ruined several tunes.
Yet when you could hear him, he sang with an otherworldly trill and an uncommon sense of vulnerability, especially in "I Fall Apart," a song about getting dumped from his 2016 debut album, Stoney.
Post is also the rare hip-hop act that plays guitar onstage, a vestige from his days as a singer-songwriter at places like Napoli's Italian Café in downtown Grapevine. On Tuesday, he whipped out a sparkly acoustic guitar and did a credible job strumming through Metallica's ominous "Nothing Else Matters."
He devoted most of the show to tunes from Stoney, opening with "Too Young" -- a song about fearing premature death -- and ending with "Congratulations" and "White Iverson," the braggadocio song that launched him into the big time.
He also snuck in his spooky new hit "Rockstar" from his upcoming second album Beerbongs & Bentleys. A few months ago, he took an ill-fated stage dive while singing the song in St. Louis. Tuesday night, Post wisely stayed on terra firma.
He did, however, punctuate "Rockstar" by smashing a half-empty can of beer against his temple. In fact, he spent much of the show chugging beer, burping and spraying fans with what he called "the sweet nectar of the gods."
Those sudsy shenanigans were a replica of those employed by another young white hip-hop act: the Beastie Boys, circa 1986. Let's hope Post, like the Beasties, eventually drops the buffoonish drunkard act and matures into a serious artist who's actually worth toasting.
Thor Christensen is a Dallas writer and critic. Email firstname.lastname@example.org