Vampires lurked behind me while ghosts blocked every exit. Frankenstein loomed overhead, pushing me toward the horde of zombies ahead. Nowhere left to run, I clung to SpongeBob. My heart raced, the lights flashed, and the beat took over.
It was Thursday night, more specifically, the Thursday before Halloween. But there was no SpongeBob, nor was there a horde of undead descending upon Richmond. Instead, there was a crowd of high schoolers and young adults. The undead and I had gathered to become victims, victims of the bass.
As corny as it sounds, Bass Victim came with a lot of different expectations for me. I had bought tickets on a whim, and as soon as I did, I was barraged with texts telling me not to go. Bass Victim was notoriously late to all their shows, but I decided not to heed the warning.
Bassvictim is an electroclash duo emerging out of the London underground, formed in 2022 by singer Maria Manow and producer Ike Clateman. They began gaining traction in 2024 with their album Basspunk and have relentlessly released projects, with their magnum opus thus far being their debut album Forever in 2025, ranked the 49th best album of the year by Pitchfork. Their style is distinct, to me feeling like a more spiritual and enlightened descendant of Snow Strippers Crystal Castles. What sets Bassvictim apart is the sense of catharsis achieved in Maria's impassioned, stylistically imperfect delivery, and Clatemans ear for creating unique sonic environments.
When we arrived, part of me felt like I should have. We arrived at 8, around the time the opener was supposed to go on, which was already a bad sign when they hadn't even started. Additionally, for such a big act, there really wasn't much of a crowd. Those who were there all had X's on their wrists and were dressed for the occasion. Some zombies, some ghouls, others were more recognizable characters like Peter Griffin, Marge Simpson, or even dressed as the band. It was very youthful and made me feel weirdly out of place. I, still under, had the X on my wrist but didn’t share that same passion that made them fit. I came in jeans while others wore costumes.
The opener, Thoom, came on thirty minutes late, which, in the grand scheme of things, wasn't too bad. As much as I tried to dance and really listen to the music, it was difficult. I wasn't a huge fan of the opener's music, but she had incredible stage presence. When she came out, she was wearing LED gloves, more specifically, gloves used for a style of performance called gloving. It was a fun addition to her performance, and she incorporated them really well. She had this performative aura that just made you want to watch. I think a big part of that was her use of background dancers. Their movements weren't heavily choreographed, which I think added to the performance. Thoom's music felt very lusty in a way, and the dancers complemented it with such free-flowing movements. I really enjoyed how they incorporated themselves into the performance.
Thoom only really played for 30 minutes, which made me worried if the headliner would come. As time went on, I genuinely was getting scared. We played an iPhone game called Battlecats and got through ten games. Which, according to my clock, was about 45 minutes. As I lost hope, the lights dimmed. Ike, from Bassvictim, walked on stage with Maria following suit. Ike went to the DJ console, setting a bassline. It sounded like the thumping of a heart as it roared louder. There was such a presence from both. Maybe it was the shock and anticipation, but the crowd felt the same. Hands all grasping for Maria as lights illuminated the stage.
In a matter of seconds, everyone was dancing. Compared to Thoom’s introduction, everyone wanted to express themselves. I underestimated it and was overwhelmed by all the action. The duo felt so alive and present that it only added to the moment.
Concerts are so hard to describe. Most of the time, the music is good, and that's that. The same could be said for Bassvictim, but looking around at the crowd made me smile. Although I was still in college, it felt like I was surrounded by a different generation. I felt this especially during the song "Grow Up!!!" It's only a one-minute-long track, but they extend it into a live mix at their concerts. The song became an anthem, X's raised high, with everyone dancing like it was their last night alive. There was no concern for responsibility or the future. They were simply living in the moment. I raised my own fist with them. Maybe I had initially felt out of place among the crowd, but in that moment, it didn't matter. It was a defiance of growing up, of holding onto youth, and of simply continuing to dance. For a brief moment, I wasn't an outsider looking in, but just another victim of it.
