There’s something refreshing about seeing American teenagers going crazy for a British rapper in a BDSM pup-play mask. When I attended skaiwater’s concert at Union Stage on March 20, 2026, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I knew it was going to be outrageous. Every underground rap concert I’ve been to so far has been nothing short of wild; the energy of the crowd is always relentless, subsiding only in the miniscule gaps between songs. I’m never quite sure if I’ll leave the concert with my precious glasses intact or if I’ll have to bike home blind and terrified. But however unpredictable and erratic, rap concert crowds are the most tight knit, welcoming communities I’ve witnessed in D.C. skaiwater’s concert was no exception to this rule, as they put on one of the most vivacious shows I’ve ever attended.
skaiwater has come a long way since their initial rise in 2022. Their tracks “eyes” and “#miles” with Lil Uzi Vert received millions of streams, and since then they have released a total of six studio albums, an impressive number for an artist that’s only 25-years-old.
After the three pinkPrint EPs, I thought skaiwater’s sound had solidified with the culminating, orchestral pop-rap album #mia (2025). However, listening to wonderful (2026), I was shocked by their abrupt pivot into a rage-rap style, featuring iconic underground rappers Tezzus and diamond*. The beats are erratic and bass-heavy, skaiwater showcases their scratchy British accent while profusely spitting bars, and the ad-libs are similar to those of Nine Vicious and Che. It’s a stark contrast to their earlier work, but it’s a solid rage-rap album that fits perfectly into the current climate of the underground scene and shows skaiwater’s unbelievable versatility when it comes to making rap music.
As I entered Union Stage, Baby Osamaa, the opener, was getting the crowd revved up. The attendees were young, ready to throw their bodies into one another in the crowded mosh pits that would eventually break out when skaiwater took the stage. The energetic DJ, Maino Da Plug, augmented the hype with gunshot noises and OsamaSon and Playboi Carti tracks to appease the audio-starved masses.
At around 9 P.M., skaiwater took the stage–right on schedule. They ran out shirtless and in a pup-play mask before immediately playing eight straight songs from their new album. I was pleasantly surprised when nobody seemed to care about the mask, which provides evidence to the fact that the rap underground is one of the most progressive communities in contemporary music. skaiwater is Black, British, and non-binary, and they proudly display these identities both on and off stage in interviews with magazines such as Hypebeast. Alongside artists like Lil Uzi Vert and Lil Nas X, they have become a pioneer for LGBTQIA+ identities being cherished in the rap community. Further, while BDSM culture has been creeping its way into the mainstream through fashion and music, pup-play and other BDSM visuals are still highly stigmatized when portrayed publicly. But that night in the crowd, nobody was hung up on their BDSM regalia; everyone grooved in ecstasy to their music as usual.
The concert continued as skaiwater rapidly pumped out verses and performed the rest of the twenty-six total songs. They invited some fans on stage and dapped up others in front of the barricades. Fan favorites such as “pop,” “feral,” and “rain” tapped into the nostalgia of their older work while still showcasing their new style. When skaiwater screamed, “open that shit up!,” we did. We thrashed our long hair against each other as it tangled and twirled in each other’s faces, we stumbled over one another while trying to help others maintain their balance, and we thrived in the effervescence of skaiwater’s spectacle.
After the approximately forty-five minute set, skaiwater left the stage and the venue illuminated as people flooded out. I followed, walking outside toward the Capital Bikeshare dock to ride back to campus. Just as I set off, I saw some teenage boys running toward a huge black vehicle parked on the side of the road. I decided to dismount and see what they were running toward: there stood skaiwater, perched in the window of their tour bus above a hoard of fans armed with Sharpies, records, shirts, and tour posters. Elated, I joined the crowd and asked, “Who’s your biggest inspiration?”
“Kanye West,” they replied. They then signed my bracelet and took a few pictures with my newly acquired digicam.
In the crowded clump outside the tour bus, we urged skaiwater to sign our material belongings, desiring something tangible to take away from this experience. But we also gained something far more important than any signature: a deep sense of community within rap music. With each 808 and crowd-killing elbow thrown, we built a deeply connected group of people with a shared idolatry of skaiwater. At any other concert, the performer would have been met with confusion and judgement from crowdmembers, but the fans at this concert welcomed skaiwater with open arms. Art shouldn’t be separated from the artist, and the crowd embodied this by embracing the entity of their favorite artist wholeheartedly. skaiwater has successfully curated a radically loving and accepting community of underground rap fans, and I’m thankful to be a part of this wonderful group of people.
