7 p.m. — After a half hour of waiting, the media was brought to its place on the concourse. As I mentally prepared for the show, my gaze shifted upward to the audience. I watched students filing into the arena in various states of thrifted attire, filling seats by the dozen.

The energy was a thick as the smoke surrounding the stage, and I could hear their questions ringing in my ears: What will he wear? What time is he coming out? After a few minutes with no opener in sight, I found myself mentally asking the same questions.

The opener’s DJ showed up at about 7:10 p.m. to mix some beats. Although he played some Big Sean hits and Drake’s “Started From the Bottom,” I found it a little confusing as to why he would bother. It didn’t succeed in pumping up the crowd. Rather, it threw off those who did not know the opener into thinking it was show time.

7:20 p.m. — Chicago native Rockie Fresh hits the stage. Having never heard his beats, I wasn’t expecting much from him as an opener.

Upon his entrance, what I heard was a tad underwhelming, to say the least.

But it was more than just his music. It was his energy, or lack thereof. Typically, an artist comes onto the stage pumped to start the night. But he lurked across the floor like a scared puppy, tail in between his legs, ready to perform and not much else. Although his rhymes weren’t bad, his voice made him sound like a mediocre A$AP Rocky.

As his performance went on, I kept mentally asking myself when his energy would kick in, and it never did. He paced across the stage as though he was nervous. The crowd reciprocated his lack of enthusiasm, with many hopping off their chairs and losing interest. When Rockie Fresh left the Breslin, half-hearted cheers erupted. His lack of aggression made me contemplate his passion — if you’re not going to go all out in an arena full of people, why perform at all?

8:35 p.m. — As the lights began to dim and the background music gained momentum, the audience went absolutely wild. At that moment, we all knew Macklemore was in the building.

He emerged vivacious and energetic, decked in a simple army jacket. Amid the screaming fans, he gave several shoutouts to the crowd, which he continued for the remainder of the show. “Whaddup, Michigan State?” he bellowed playfully.

Although I did not recognize the first two songs, I couldn’t help but be impressed by his enthusiasm. He leapt across the stage, hopped up on speakers and even swung his microphone stand from side to side several times. In between and during his songs, he interacted with the audience, making conversation out of a concert as though he wasn’t on stage performing for thousands of students. He performed his platinum single, “Thrift Shop,” fourth, which was an unexpected move, since most performers save their biggest hits for the end. The instrumentals were noticeably switched up from the single, but in the best way. He hopped around the entire song, making it clear he was having the time of his life, and it showed in the crowd reaction.

When he left the stage momentarily, students were left confused and disappointed, only to go even crazier when he came back out, clad in a purple cape and wig to sing “And We Danced.” Although it is a bit silly, I found it amusing he would go to such lengths to be comedic.

I was not the biggest fan of his music beforehand, but I left Breslin on Tuesday gaining a little more respect for him as an artist. While he might not be the most aggressive rapper, or tackle the same topics most hip-hop artists do, it only sets him apart.

Despite differing opinions on his style of music, one thing is true: he knows how to engage a crowd and put on an energetic concert.