Hippo Campus
at Summerstage // NYC // June 2023
Review by Cassie Hurwitz
Photos by Morgan Winston
There’s nothing like summer in the city—especially when it’s ushered in by the sweet sounds of Hippo Campus. And that’s exactly what the group delivered: Powerful vocals coated in surprisingly lovely harmonies, funky basslines, and a raw, deep energy.
In 2023, Hippo Campus is celebrating 10 years, and there’s no question that a decade together has formed strong bonds between the five members—Jake Luppen, Nathan Stocker, Zach Sutton, Whistler Allen, and DeCarlo Jackson—who met growing up in Minnesota. Their camaraderie was on full display during the show; not only were the aforementioned harmonies a treat, but the easy communication also kept things feeling like a well-oiled machine…if a well-oiled machine could be sexy.
While presenting a laid back, almost aloof experience, the guys stayed true to their Midwestern roots. That included stopping the show when a fan needed assistance—going so far as to exit the stage until they received help—then restarting the song, “Moonshine,” from the beginning. (Luppen shouting “We’ll start that motherfucker from the top!” will live in my brain rent free for all time.)
That we-care-for-you energy was fitting for the setting, too. Central Park’s SummerStage venue only fits a few thousand guests, so as a semi-intimate group gathered under the setting sun, it felt more like a bunch of friends showing up for their local band’s first big gig than a horde of New Yorkers rushing to see the hottest thing in music.
Of course, Hippo Campus sounded and acted nothing like amateurs at a debut show—from their clear comfort commanding the stage to the ways they seamlessly transitioned from song to song, they came off as simply at the top of their game. The low-key roots mingled with a professional, polished edge. It was old school Hippo Campus—the bright, poppy highs of “South” and “Suicide Saturday” from their early EPs—layered with the dissociated, garage rock styles of their latest works, Wasteland and LP3—plus everything in between.
The choice hits from their two full-length albums, Landmark and Bambi (“Way It Goes,” “Golden,” and “Bambi”) were huge crowd pleasers—nearly everyone grabbed a phone to record when that ethereal intro to “Way It Goes” twinkled through the speakers. And as each song built, the band gave an aura of late 90s, early aughts pop punk groups, but with a distinctly postmodern twist thanks to Jackson’s integral trumpet and those quintessentially hard-to-understand Hippo Campus lyrics.
Though the crowd may not have caught every word that came out of Luppen’s mouth, they were certainly hanging on them. Each song, from “Bad Dream Baby” to “Chapstick” to “Bang Bang,” rose and fell like a symphony. They’d start at a relaxed, this-isn’t-our-first-rodeo level, but in no time, the guys would turn up the volume—escalating the music to where I could feel it deep in my bones. “Buttercup,” the encore song, was no exception; the band hit it hard, and we were awash in their (warm) glow.
And as the sun finally set over New York City’s SummerStage, it was clear that after 10 years, Hippo Campus is better than ever.
