I rolled up to Benjamin Booker’s set immediately after Rae Sremmurd’s, which, if you’re familiar with both of their vibes, is more than kind of funny. Booker holds his cigarettes like he’s James fucking Dean between verses, and his voice carries the rustic timbre envied by anyone who’s fought long and hard to seem cool. I always say that Booker is the one true punk of this generation, and here’s why: he doesn’t give a shit about being trendy. He looks trendy, his band looks trendy, but his music has the genuine weather-beaten soul of someone who’s been living and living hard for a very long time. He has a cross-generational appeal that was made incredibly obvious at yesterday’s show. People my mom’s age (my mom loves Benjamin Booker) intermingled with high school kids; some would dance while others stood still and quiet, listening intently. Booker’s voice is so enchanting when he performs that it was almost jarring to hear his higher-pitched speaking voice when he thanked the crowd for watching. “Old Hearts” was by-and-large the most rousing song, and as Booker and his band walked off of the stage, they left behind a sea of reverb that engulfed the crowd as the sun finally started to make an appearance. I’ve never seen people stand and listen to that white noise for so long after a set is over. Booker’s got something really special going for him; I think it’s what some would consider “star power.” –Gabriela