Earl Sweatshirt at TLA

Someone threw their underwear at Earl Sweatshirt.

It happened during the rapper's concert on Tuesday night at the TLA: A mysterious purple pair flew onstage. Sweatshirt's DJ, Taco - both members of the Los Angeles rap collective Odd Future - snuck out from behind his booth, picked up the panties, and rubbed them on Sweatshirt's face.

A chase around the stage ensued. Taco ran away and Sweatshirt sprinted after. It was silly.

It was also the wildest thing that happened. And it was infinitely less wild than some of the other things that have happened at past Odd Future-affiliated events: fights, riots, arrests. A face full of underwear may be uncomfortable, but it's totally PG-13.

That spontaneous foot chase was also a reminder that Sweatshirt (born Thebe Neruda Kgositsile) is still a kid. It is easy to forget this when listening to the 19-year-old's recently released debut studio album, Doris, because of how he so sophisticatedly deconstructs himself and effortlessly articulates his vengeful, melancholic, and sentimental sides.

Though Sweatshirt was billed as the headliner of this tour, he was joined for the entirety of the Philadelphia show by rapper Vince Staples. Staples performed a few of his own tracks, but he mostly assisted Sweatshirt with songs from Doris. More accurate: Staples assisted Sweatshirt with parts of songs from Doris.

After the first verse of "Sunday," a sad but defiant tune about the burdens and glories of being a young artist in the spotlight, the song abruptly stopped. That made sense, perhaps, because Frank Ocean was not there to deliver its second verse. But the majority of the songs on Doris feature guest artists (Mac Miller, Tyler, the Creator, Domo Genesis) who were not at the show, so much of the new material was delivered in snippet form.

The emphasis also was on Sweatshirt's more aggressive songs. During "Kill," from his EARL mixtape, audience members yelled along with the chorus. On "Drop," Sweatshirt adeptly rapped, "Limbs swinging axes at you antonyms of savages, And praying that it damages your hobby's what my passion is."

Before the softer, sorrowful "Chum," a new song about how much he misses his estranged father (South African poet Keorapetse William Kgositsile), Sweatshirt announced: "This is that part of the show where we're all gonna cry together."

The crying did not last long. The concert was only one hour - often rushed and sloppy. When Staples and Sweatshirt would walk to the DJ booth to discuss with Taco the next song, it was only funny the first time.

But the audience had a blast. There was stage-diving. Hands were up, fists were pumping. It was fast, but furious. No one seemed to mind that the show was so short.