@amelia.moseman
Photos courtesy of Anson Tong via Jam Productions

The first time I saw Hippo Campus perform they were merely boys, bouncing around on stage with awkwardly long limbs and haircuts that could only be described as “twee”. My friends and I, at the ripe age of 13, had convinced my dad to drive us 45 minutes from Saint Paul to Center City, MN to see “The Halocline” perform at Hazelfest—a small music festival at an addiction recovery center. Afterwards, we all gathered for a sleepover, where the highlight of the night was getting a like from the official Hippo Campus Instagram on our post from the show. The things we did for Hippo Campus back in the day are better suited for a diary than a blog post, but it’s not an exaggeration to call it an obsession. 

The eighth time I saw Hippo Campus perform was last Friday night at The Salt Shed, the second to last stop on the Flood tour. They were still bouncing around on stage, in that midwestern rock star sort of way, but with aged confidence and haircuts perfectly tailored to each of their faces. If that’s not a sign of entering your 30s, I don’t know what is. Compared to the quaint but energetic crowd at Hazelfest, the energy at Salt Shed could’ve caused a power outage. If there’s one thing Hippo Campus has perfected over the years, it’s how to perform. 

Frontman Jake Luppen leads the crew with his signature kooky charm, playing with vocoders and jumping around to lyrics like: “I’m worried about Britney Spears / It’s pretty f*cked up how her dad runs her life / I wish my dad was more involved in mine / But not like that, really not like that, yeah”. Guitar and vocalist Nathan Stocker chimes in occasionally, hyping up the crowd and delivering proverbial mid-song speeches, while bassist Zach Sutton and drummer/vocalist Whistler Allen quietly hold down their respective parts.  

They’re quintessentially Midwesterners—more stars than rock; they’re bright and fun. They’re at their best when they succumb to their creative whims, not taking themselves too seriously and letting the bond that they share shine through.  

Despite the joy and humor that precedes, Hippo Campus is capable of intimate depth, evidenced by songs like Monsoon, a special treat for Friday’s crowd. A tender track about the loss of a family member, the song bleeds grief and mourning.  

Considering this was the Flood tour, the setlist was a mixed bag—5 songs from Flood, 5 from Landmark, 4 from LP3 and a smattering off their various EPs and Bambi. It was filled with crowd pleasers: “Way it Goes”, “Baseball”, “Buttercup”, “Blew Its” and even “Suicide Saturday”. My guess is the familiar set was a function of being the second to last stop on a long tour. Plus, I get the feeling many of the songs on Flood were better to make than to perform, and with a big crowd like Chicago it’s gotta be more rewarding to lean into the heavy hitters. I’m certainly not complaining; they’re called crowd pleasers for a reason. 

The videos I took of the night included an epic trumpet solo from recent addition DeCarlo Jackson on “Way it Goes”, some shredding from Sutton at the end of “baseball”, the collective chorus of the bridge of “South”, multiple snippets from “Suicide Saturday” (been waiting for this one), and the mesmerizing light show accompanying the encore “Poems”.  

Unrecorded highlights were the goofy, overproduced “Sex Tape” (thank GOD for all the Christian mothers), the introspective “Corduroy” off of Flood, and the mid-set, perfectly timed light rain during “Ride or Die” that I’m still not convinced wasn’t manufactured. 

My friends and I first started following Hippo Campus when they were still figuring themselves out: going by stage names (The Turntan, Stiches, Espo and Beans) and shrouding themselves in mystique.  Despite dropping the monikers and spending years on the road, they’re still not sure where they’re going, but they know where they’ve been.  

Their latest album, Flood, came out of a time of crisis for the band: they scratched hundreds of songs written over 5 years after realizing nothing was working toward what they wanted to be a masterpiece. The success of their youth had caught up to them as they were also having to confront adulthood, grief, longevity, and individuality. They decided to start over, slow down, and do it right. 

Ultimately, they got to work with the legendary Brad Cook (literally too many credits to name) to produce Flood, a very obvious manifestation of this season of life. Whether or not I think this is their best record, it’s not really for me, it’s for them. It’s their most raw and most intentional—a real team album. Having known each other and been working together since they were 14, it’s heartening to see the band embrace the years and differences between them, sticking together through it all. 

I discovered Hippo Campus at a time in my life where my sole criteria for rating music was if I knew the song and liked to sing along. Hippo Campus was my introduction to indie music, local music, and live music. They introduced me to listening under the covers long past bedtime and realizing a song has the power to change your mood. They gave me the first taste of the euphoria of seeing an artist you’ve only seen through a screen that exists in real life.  

Every time I see them, I’m reminded of why I love going to shows in the first place—the way music holds memories, how it pulls you back to who you were, and how sweet it is to share it all with the people who’ve been there along the way. 

I’ve been seeing Hippo Campus perform for almost 8 years now and though they’re getting older, they’ll never get old.