Eugene Hutz is one damned magnetic frontman. Really.
He demands your attention. And he gets it.
Strumming his acoustic guitar as though it were a weapon, Hutz and his magnificent, trademark mustache – t-shirts available at the merch table were emblazoned with the slogan, “This Mustache Kills Fascists” – owned the sold-out crowd at Northern Lights even before they finished their opening blitz through “Tribal Connection.” Just four songs later during “Last One Goes the Hope,” he was already shirtless and sweating up a storm, as the mosh pit swirled in front of him. And by the time he ramped up “Start Wearing Purple,” he was stalking the stage like a tiger, bringing the night to a fever pitch with the microphone in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other.