Ken Carson's Show at the Fillmore Lived Up to Its Chaotic Promise

Is there a more chaotic combo than rage rap's biggest star, his adolescent fanbase, and a venue unable to contain all the madness on a Tuesday night?

When Ken Carson brought his appropriately titled A Great Chaos Tour to the Fillmore Miami Beach, fans of the Opium rap collective and record label queued up hours in advance wearing all-black outfits under the hot Miami sun.

If you're unfamiliar with Opium, rapper and internet phenomenon Playboi Carti founded the platform to help propel artists who matched his aesthetic and vibe. You may be asking yourself, What does it mean to be Opium? Simply put, it's like being a punk-rock version of Rick Owens, the fashion label that Carson, Carti, and other labelmates love to namedrop in their songs.

Meanwhile, the Opium crew's fans are mainly Gen Z and Alpha kids dressed in a new wave of goth attire that they've adapted into their own style. They connect with the crew's angsty lyrics, ranging from braggadocious bars about expensive clothing to melancholic ideas like suicide and depression.

Still, the most notable thing about the fans is their favorite activity: moshing. While moshing is most commonly associated with the rock genre, it has expanded into rap, thanks to the likes of Travis Scott and XXXTentacion, who encouraged their fan bases to let out their energy with pushing, shoving, and dancing.

Now it becomes a bit more obvious why fans lined up early at the Fillmore down to the Miami Beach Convention Center. They were all hoping to get the best view of the 24-year-old rapper rockstar.
While the crowd waited for the doors to open, it appeared that someone had already passed out — perhaps due to the heat — as paramedics hauled the person away a little after 7 p.m. The incident foreshadowed the chaos that would ensue.

Once doors opened and inside the Fillmore lobby, the line for the merch that consisted of $50 to $100 T-shirts stretched for a couple hundred feet. However, it was inside the actual theater where the confusion and anger began. Fans didn't realize they needed colored wristbands to enter the actual pit area, with only a few hundred distributed. Anyone who lacked a wristband was forced to find a seat behind the floor or the mezzanine above. (This is standard practice at the Fillmore as a method of crowd control.)

What's the problem? You can't mosh if you're standing next to a seat. This quickly led to long, drawn-out conflict between concertgoers, whose ages mainly ranged from 14 to 20, and the venue's staff. As soon as the house lights went dark for opener 2hollis, the seated-area crowd rushed to the pit, pushing security out of the way.

Perhaps not wanting a repeat of the 2021 Astroworld crowd crush, the Live Nation-employed staff immediately stopped the show before 2hollis got on stage. Then began a 26-minute standoff between fans and the Fillmore security team, who was trying to get everyone who didn't have a wristband out of the pit area. At first, many refused to budge, but after management threatened to scrap the show entirely, kids slowly began to make their way out.

This was followed by "We want Ken!" chants. The crowd forced back into the seated areas now stood on the chairs or in the aisles in defiance. The show was stopped again, and the venue's manager informed the crowd that if they couldn't all find a seat, she'd cancel the show and go home to her charcuterie board. The crowd responded by laughing and booing at her.
Eventually, after things calmed down, we got a lackluster 20-minute set from 2hollis, who is just a white-boy copy of the Opium aesthetic. The crowd was initially hyped that someone, anyone, got on stage, but they quickly dismissed the artist and cheered when he announced he was playing his last song.

Afterward, the crowd spent the next 30 minutes singing along to the DJ's selection of music by Playboi Carti, Destroy Lonely, and others. The music was reason enough for the crowd in the pit to start moshing. A security guard tried to get in the middle of the pit to stop it but was shoved as soon as "No Stylist" by Destroy Lonely began to play and quickly gave up on that.

Multiple warnings followed, stating that the show would be canceled if the seated audience tried to rush the stage once more. However, as soon as the lights dimmed and the curtain unveiled the scaffolding on stage, the crowd began to jump and get rowdy. As Carson came out to the tune of "Freestyle 3," kids began to rush the pit again, with staff quickly turning off the music and turning on the lights. The manager again came on the mike to tell everyone the show would not go on if those without general admission wristbands didn't return to the seated area.

It would have probably gone smoother had it not been for the fact some fans were distracted by the appearance of internet skate sensation and Opium affiliate Burberry Erry, who just stood there and waved at fans. There was also apparently fighting in the stands, as some fans blamed each other for the concert delay.
After about 25 minutes, the chaos was contained and everyone was in the right spot. Once the fire marshal signed off on it, Carson came back on stage. Addressing the situation, Carson told the crowd, "They told me to tell y'all to stop rushing the stage, whatever the fuck that means," and the show went on.

For the next 45 minutes, Carson ran back and forth, up and down the scaffolding on stage, as he performed hits like "Jennifer's Body," "Yale," and "Rock and Roll." While Carson doesn't have a crazy vocal ability and is often aided by a backing track during his live performance, he certainly knows how to command a stage, telling fans to mosh at will.

The intensity emanating from the crowd never wavered. Everyone was jumping, screaming, and moshing, regardless of whether the fans were in seats or the pit. Throughout Carson's set, kids attempted to rush the pit, only to be plucked out by security soon after.

When Carson performed the last song of the night, "Fighting My Demons," many decided to rush the pit one last time and scream the chorus in unison, "I've been fighting my demons, yuh/I've been fighting my demons, yuh."

Afterward, the house lights turned on, and the staff directed everyone to leave.

As chaotic as the evening turned out, a 45-minute set from Carson was as good as it would get for the rowdy Miami crowd.