Lip Critic’s “Theft Saga” goes the distance

A few weeks ago, I caught Lip Critic’s after-hours show at Brooklyn’s Yong Xin Tan Laundromat on a bill with New York no-wavers Pop Music Fever Dream. It was the first installment in the former’s Theft Saga: a series of hometown shows in unconventional venues ahead of their forthcoming sophomore record, Theft World. Packed into the narrow laundromat, I sat perched atop a dryer until it was time to hop down and join everybody thrashing around in the pit. Sweat pooled on the already-slick linoleum floor and condensed on the windows, glowing in the light of neon signs and jewel-toned strobes. And before you ask—yes, it did smell crazy in there. I returned for the saga’s final installment last night, which took place at a boxing ring in a warehouse venue that I recognized from a Halloween show I’d gone to last fall. The first rule of Theft World Fight Club: You do not talk about Theft World Fight Club. But let’s break it. 

A series of twisting hallways led to the room where the show would be taking place. It was about three times the size of the laundromat but just as packed. The ring itself was in the corner, bathed in hazy light. Bassy techno boomed from the speakers—not for long, though, because soon it was time for New York indie rockers MX LONELY to take the stage for a set of heavy-hitters off their excellent debut, ALL MONSTERS. Seeing standouts like “Return to Sender,” “Anesthetic,” and “Big Hips” (which was dedicated to “boys who get their periods and girls with dicks”) elevated their smoldering grungegaze to a blazing bonfire. Lead vocalist Rae Haas’s stage presence was truly something to behold. They boomeranged around the ring in white shorts and a red bikini top, not quite dancing but posing in fluid motion, sometimes climbing the ropes and ring posts to lord over the thrashing crowd. At the end of MX LONELY’s set, Haas let out a Cookie Monster-growl: “Thanks for rockin’ with us, we’re rockin’ with you.” 

Between sets, Associate Editor Casey Epstein-Gross and I surveyed the crowd (a gathering of North Brooklyn twenty-somethings that beat MJ Lenderman’s record for Show With the Highest Concentration of Guys Who Look Like My Exes, which is really saying something) and checked out the merch tables, where two artists were screenprinting limited-edition t-shirts. Screenprinting services were available at all of the Theft World Saga shows, free of charge to all who provided their own shirts. The room smelled hot, metallic, and inky, but a couple fried brain cells are worth it to be the proud owner of an “I SURVIVED THEFT SAGA” shirt. 

We missed the first half of Lip Critic’s opening number, an earsplitting rendition of “It’s The Magic” off their 2024 debut album Hex Dealer. But by the time we were ringside again, the pit had already cracked wide open, its moshers matching the dramatic and combative energy of the venue. Spin kicks were flying, as was a small light-up drone that buzzed above our heads. The one-two punch of the opening track and the speedy pulse of the following “Yard Sale” set the tone for a night of ruthless digital hardcore and dance punk—from old reliable bangers like “The Heart” to new standouts like “Talon,” which dropped earlier that day. Lead singer Bret Kaser swayed under flashing white lights like a boxer dodging punches in slow motion, intoning in his signature swagged-out auctioneer cadence. 

“New York, we’re here for one reason and one reason alone,” he panted during the silvery synth-drenched “Jackpot.” “And that’s to shake some ass!” This is a point he’d made at the Laundromat show and would make a second time in this same set. As a proponent of the “less elbows, more ass” approach to moshing, I salute Kaser in his single-issue campaign for more ass-throwing in the pit. 

During “Sermon,” Kaser hopped the ropes and walked into the crowd to join them, before segueing into Hex Dealer’s biggest crowd pleaser, “(In The Wawa) Convinced I Am God.”  Just before the breakdown in “Milky Max”—another Hex Dealer live favorite and a magnificent showcase of the thrilling powers of excavation possessed by dual drummers Danny Eberle and Michael Sandvig—Kaser split the crowd down the middle for a wall of death. At this point, I was standing by a big black support beam, watching a few brave souls shimmy up it to jump off into the open-handed crowd or to perch atop another beam like birds on a wire. 

Kaser closed the show by tossing a handful of fake dollar bills into the air and vowing to “See you in the dark and near future!”, a foreboding message to herald a hotly anticipated record in which everything is up for grabs as long as you’re ready to fight for it. 

Read Paste‘s recent feature with Lip Critic here.

Grace Robins-Somerville is a writer from Brooklyn. Her work has appeared in Pitchfork, Stereogum, The Alternative, ANTICS, Marvin, Swim Into The Sound and her “mostly about music” newsletter, Our Band Could Be Your Wife.

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