When it comes to music, I’m not an easy person to please. I love music, but I’m not a good fan. I have strong opinions about everything. Either it’s too polished or too sloppy; you’re either a sellout or a wannabe who can’t make a hit. I’m skeptical of it all.

I’m also extremely disloyal. Aside from a few acts who I grew up on and believe did no wrong (Nirvana) I have gripes with almost every artist, even my favorites (looking at you, Frank Ocean). While Good Fans rush to defend their favorite artists, I am even more critical of the ones who I believe in. I’ve learned to bite my tongue so I don’t come off as a complete hater, but I’m judging every move, always.

With Jai Paul, I don’t even know what to think. Between the chaotic story of his mysterious album leak, the long gaps of silence, the connections to Drake and Childish Gambino, the lack of information, the unfinished but still brilliant music, nothing makes sense. He’s an extraordinarily talented artist with a singular vision and a refusal to play by any traditional industry rules. It’s frustrating at times, but I respect it.

Jai Paul is an extraordinarily talented artist with a singular vision and a refusal to play by any traditional industry rules. It’s frustrating at times, but I respect it.

After he reappeared at Coachella for his first performance (over 10 years after his debut single), Jai Paul announced a handful of headlining shows, including two nights in NYC. I figured that Coachella was probably an uncomfortable start for an artist who doesn’t perform, like, ever. I thought he’d be more in the zone for the solo shows. The first one seemed risky too, so if I had any shot to see Jai Paul in his element, it would be the second night in NYC. So—and here comes a sentence I never thought I’d be able to say—I went to see Jai Paul perform at Brooklyn Steel in NYC last night.

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