Fuck identity. Follow the guidance of Yves Tumor in this blurry line they created during their Barton hall performance
Yves entered the stage with a soft clack. Nothing spectacular as he was surrounded in black, with only the lights illuminating himself and the swarming sea of students, professors, and myself. As they began singing, they emerged a monster, reflective of a siren calling out to a ship crew. But instead of trepidation, the call was heeded with no fear in sight. We dove straight into the music, taking in the crashing waves of guitars, drums, bass, and bellowing voices. Yves Tumor uses and oozes so much creativity when it comes to his performances one can’t help but listen and gawk.
On the 30th of September, Yves Tumor, Izzy Spears, and DJ Reflexx performed at Barton Hall as Cornell’s homecoming celebration, hosted by the ever illustrious Cornell Concert Commission Cornell Concert Commission is a historic organization on campus, who have put on hundreds of concerts since the 70s, bringing the likes of Stevie Wonder, The Police, and JID to Cornell. They are mainly student run, with the general body helping select the artist, build the stage, and bring people together to stampede the concert. As of late, they have been experimenting with different genres of music to bring to campus. Yves is the latest experiment they are bringing to the stage, and as a member of this club, I believe it was a success.
More than just a musician, Yves is an entertainer They are dedicated to the canvas, coming up with avant-garde outfits and outlandish colors that splash color all over the easel. As a musician, Yves Tumor is a musical chameleon, a shape-shifter of sound, and a boundary-pushing artist whose sonic canvas is a sprawling, kaleidoscopic landscape of emotions and genres. Imagine a musical alchemist, blending elements of avant-garde experimentalism, soulful R&B, gritty punk, and electronic wizardry into a sonic elixir that defies categorization. Their artistry is a daring exploration of the human psyche, a sonic journey through the depths of passion, pain, and transcendence.
Before Yves entered the stage though, they were opened by artists of drastically different caliber. First on stage was Cornell Student DJ Reflexx. He strongly holds the hands of the Cornell Concert Commission– something they should look to drop soon. I say this with all the love I have, as Reflexx made an attempt. My problem lies with his skills. I have been around the Cornell DJ scene for a year or two and caught some truly remarkable sets. Like many stylists, these sets were done with people who have less experience and hardware compared to Reflexx. Regardless, he at least attempted to appease the crowd with a fantastic stage presence. He was shouting, free-styling adlibs and talking to the people in the front. He knew when to speak and had a great eye for seeing what the crowd was feeling. Tragically it was always ruined by terrible transitions, somewhat baffling mixes, and just a lame setlist. It seems like he has very little technical skill. If I wanted to see a set like his, I could’ve walked to some random frat that Saturday night.
Contrast this with the second act: Izzy Spears, someone who wasn’t afraid to be unique and embrace his style. I can’t say I was fully prepared for the experimental sound he was doing, but I was pleasantly surprised. He had the vocal riff of an average death grips song, but the minimal backing track of an undiscovered indie artist. Hearing the contortions he was creating was enticing, similar to Yves. The urge to mosh to some of the songs sparked throughout, ironic considering the fairytale tracks he had behind him. Adding to this idea of contrast, his whole set didn’t have much illumination. Hell, his whole set didn’t even have a band. It was only him, the stage, and the crowd. This highlighted his all-encompassing style. He would frolic all over the stage, mic in tow. He would drop low, spring high. The stage was just his personal forest, allowing us to use binoculars to peer in. Being Yves Tumor’s touring partner, it was clear Yves made a great choice.
Just as Izzy walked away, the lights slowly illuminated the forest he sculpted and turned it into a stage. Talk about a loss of immersion. Regardless, the lights showed the band ready. As the crowd began to roar out Yves’ name, they unhurriedly walked on stage. Without an acknowledgement, the band hit the first chord. Many of us were startled as Yves’ voice bellowed and filled the room. Illprepared for this noise to come out of their mouth. As the set rolled on, the ambience of the venue shifted. The crowd was feeling the rhythms more, swaying their synchronous heads with the eclectic violence. It is just as if a storm has blown over into the sea. The waves were crashing, and it seems that Yves noticed. They began to get a bit more lively while still trying to keep their mysterious persona.
Yves Tumor’s voice, at times ethereal and haunting, and at other times raw and visceral, serves as a vessel for catharsis and introspection. Their lyrics are cryptic poetry, offering glimpses into the enigmatic landscapes of the soul. Onstage, they translate this cryptic vibe into a charismatic presence that blurs the lines between performer and performance art. With a stage presence that’s both magnetic and disorienting, they challenge conventional notions of identity and expression, leaving audiences in a state of awe and intrigue. Yves Tumor’s artistry cannot be summated about making music; it’s about crafting immersive experiences that invite listeners to question the boundaries of sound and self. It’s an invitation to get lost in the labyrinth of their creativity, where each note, each beat, and each visual element is a brushstroke on the canvas of the subconscious—a journey that’s as thrilling as it is profound, and as enigmatic as the artist themself.
As the first song ended, their voice changed. It was no longer a bellow but rather a whisper. Higher pitched and melodic. It’s like they morphed into a new being all together. They changed their outfit, they even changed their hair. The scene morphed with it as well. One could say that Yves was a synthesizer, contorting and stretching their voice to very degrees. This nonconformity makes Yves elevate past the notion of musician. They dislike adhering to one thing, and this is what made their performance a twinkle in my eyes. They weren’t afraid to deviate from the standard. It honestly felt as if Yves was doing backflips on stage. You couldn’t help and wonder if you could do the same.
The performance itself was a musical odyssey, with Yves Tumor’s voice serving as a siren’s call, drawing the audience into the depths of their creativity. Accompanied by Izzy Spears and DJ Reflexx, Yves Tumor’s genre-blurring artistry was on full display, showcasing a fearless exploration of emotions and musical styles. The performance was not just a concert; it was a multi-sensory experience that challenged preconceived notions of music and identity. Hearing music allows the listener to connect on a somewhat deeper level to the artist. Removing the surface level plays with the emotions of the listener. Yves Tumor knew this, and decided to play with our physical soul. They allowed the crowd to sing his final song, They changed outfits multiple times. It felt like it was done on a whim, something that is lacking and outright missing in most concerts. Considering just how formative and disconcerting our college years are, many want to relate in the media they consume. Yves made this a highlight of their performance, rather than a mistake.