On a snowy Monday night in March, the underbelly of Boston’s subcultures came together to see their favorite Swedes. Donning camo prints, full suits, and lots of faux furs, every attendee was an RPG protagonist.
Drain Gang’s following, known as “drainers” are best characterized as the seventh-grade Minecraft kid who got cute and vapes now and are recognizable by their unique fashion sense, irony-steeped sense of humor, and disaffected demeanor. A rough amalgam of horse-girls-turned-hot-girls, gamers, and skaters, “drainers” make up the devoted fans of the internet’s boy band (with Bladee as a self-proclaimed Directioner).
Unlike boybands of the past, Drain Gang builds a world around their music–from coveted merch design to discord channels–while maintaining an air of anonymity to create one of the last standing subcultures of the commodified online landscape. The concert itself embodied this sentiment. On a dimly lit stage, Drain Gang members were near indistinguishable from one another, catching glimpses of their gelled hair and eyes lined with black liner for brief moments in the spot(or strobe) light. Rather than putting on a highly curated, spectacle of performance, their energies were directed towards engaging the crowd.
The crowd, who willingly surrendered all sense of bodily autonomy and preservation, was a cacophony of head-against-elbow, hair-in-mouth, yelling-in-ear-from-all-directions. On the periphery of the pit stood the occasional open-mouthed tweaker blissfully absorbing the cloud of sweat, tears and spit wafting off the bodies in the mosh.