Near the end of the night, he promised he’d never forget where he came from. He even managed to squeeze in a handful of advertisements for his new brand of “HD OG” weed, which was name dropped to the obnoxious extent that it probably should have been among Squizzy’s small arsenal of vocal tags and sound effects. The amount he put into it took it out of him a couple of times, cueing him to duck behind the electronic billboard he’d arranged for DJ Squizzy to reign over like some sort of Skrillex understudy. That’s partly because for as much as it was the beginning of an exciting new chapter, it was also an ending for Rich — the finish line after years of free shows, part time jobs and general industry hustle. But whatever pre-show jitters he may have had (seconds before his first song, Rich could be seen rocking from heel to heel while he took a video from the stage) dissolved in the spotlight. 23, 2017 in support of his Cash Money Records debut “To Make A Long Story Short”. Family, buddies, fellow performers and ardent fans padded out the room, chanting along to favorites from his Cash Money Records debut mixtape “To Make A Long Story Short” like “Not No Mo (Regular),” and “Flex Sumn.” (For those who were none of the above, the Squizzy crew showered the crowd in what looked like stacks of real cash at one point.) This isn’t the crowd that will greet him on his inevitable debut tour for Cash Money, particularly as an opener, which he’ll have to win over night after night. The 1,100-capacity room was a big step up from Rich’s last show in October, a double-headliner at the 500-person Roxy Theatre with fellow Denver M.C. That makes sense: Having ground it out for almost a decade at this point, the Park Hill M.C. And so on Thursday night, Rich took to a snow-dusted Gothic Theatre for his first major show since the deal. It’d flash a video skit or a logo of Rich’s face when he was off stage; when he stormed back out, it’d flare up with digital fire or, most memorably, crudely drawn twerking cartoon characters. Aside from the fog cannons, which raised a safety concern in the photo pit, this screen was the other takeaway from the night. A microphone snafu cut his vocals out of the first song, but a simple baton-pass of a second mic shored up any lasting damage. “Even after all this Cash Money s–t.”
Now that Denver has been effectively crossed off the list of cities, he’d have the rest of the world to convince. Photos by Michael McGrath. Since he inked his deal with Cash Money Records in 2016, Denver has heaped expectation on rapper Trev Rich. From there on, he was tranquilo, bouncing with the happy confidence of a kid in a candy store full of his best friends. But in interviews, Rich has never let on that any of that bothers him. Trev Rich plays a sold out show at The Gothic Theater on Feb. But with a roomful of familiars cheering him on and his very own afterparty at the NATIV Hotel to get to, that was for another night. It was hard to say if Rich could have failed. AP, who joined Rich later in his set. “It’s always gonna be Squizzy, baby,” Rich said. The only pressure he feels, he confided in a feature late last year, is to bring whatever national spotlight he receives back to the city that made him who he is. has played enough shows and taken enough selfies to win most of the hearts and minds in a Denver hip-hop scene that’s desperate for a win. (If you thought the airhorn was a classic, you haven’t heard explosion-and-breaking-glass blasted at ear-splitting volume through a professional PA before.)
Despite all the pomp, the 50-minute show toed the line between a ticketed homecoming and a rap star cotillion. Even if they were in hand, Trev charged through the set with genuine gusto, more than you typically see at a hip-hop show.