An Impromptu Date Night With Honeycomb
Honeycomb at Bigs Bar, Sioux Falls, SD - November 21st, 2025
By the time I rushed home from a grueling day at work, I already felt like I was racing the clock. The chaos of rounding up two young children, packing them in the car, and driving across town to their grandmother’s had me stressed. Maybe it was more excitement than stress. I knew my wife and I were in for a treat, having only discovered that morning that Honeycomb was playing in Sioux Falls of all places.
Doors at Bigs Bar opened at eight. Once home, I quickly made myself presentable, patiently waited for Ali (my wife) to finish her prep, and told myself not to forget to grab my press credentials before we booked it. Unsurprisingly, I forgot it anyway. So, instead of rolling in at 9:15 p.m., we walked through the door at 9:30 after doubling back. Still fashionably late.
With my credentials around my neck, Ali in her classy new coat standing beside me, and a drink in each of our hands, we could finally begin our date night — and I could begin my search for the Omegle-famous looper known as Honeycomb.
Strange Language: An Unexpected Encounter with Honeycomb
We finished our shots of Jack Fire, then turned around to see the name Strange Language lighting up the stage. An unfamiliar name, but I didn’t think much of it. We then found a table after running into some friends we hadn’t seen in a while, and did some catching up.
As I sat at the table sipping my perfectly mixed Captain and Coke while half-listening to the conversation Ali was having, the reverb-heavy bass of Strange Language’s music caught my attention. It was a nice balance of drums, bass, and wubs, combined into what you’d expect from your typical dubstep artist. It almost had a familiar ring to it.
Once I was finally close enough to the stage to see who was behind the mixer, I realized that Strange Language was a local Sioux Falls artist formerly known as Deadbeatz. The first pleasant surprise of the night — one of many.
After grabbing some quick photos, I turned around to the second — and arguably the best — surprise of the night. Standing a mere five feet away was Honeycomb getting chatted up by someone completely decked out in wook attire.
I spent all day reaching out to the organizers trying to secure an interview with Honeycomb, knowing full well this was a long shot due to the short notice. I laughed at myself a little bit for forgetting that I’m at Bigs in Sioux Falls — a highly intimate venue where it’s totally normal for artists to mingle while the openers prime the crowd for their set.
Already a little warmed up with drinks, I walked up and awkwardly initiated a conversation by telling him, “You look really familiar.” Thankfully, he broke the ice rather quickly when I asked where he was from and he responded, “Windsor Locks, Connecticut,” which just so happens to be my home state — a fellow New Englander somehow finding himself in the Midwest.
Currently living in Las Vegas, he said the only reason he was in Sioux Falls is Mr. Wobbles. They’ve been best friends for years. Mr. Wobbles actually inspired him to pursue this passion and convinced him to get into video content to make a name for himself — even though he didn’t want to do videos. That push ultimately led to the viral Omegle presence he’s best known for. He noted that he mainly gained his skills from YouTube, an all-too-common story in an age of readily available how-tos.
Mr. Wobbles
The hype from locking in a quick conversation with Honeycomb brought back the nerves I already fought off with rum. Thankfully, I still had half my drink left at the table Ali and our friends were at. She decided to grab another once she spotted a friend at the bar. I stepped outside to get some air, and got my nicotine fix. It was fairly cold that night, so staying outside on the smoking patio for too long wasn’t the move.
Back inside, I sank into my seat and took a deep breath. The room felt different now: the crack of an 8-ball on the table, the low hum of friends talking trash over drinks, and the DJ hyping the crowd for Mr. Wobbles, feeding into everyone’s need to blow off a long week. It all blended into a kind of white noise, filling the space between sets.
That white noise snapped into focus the second Mr. Wobbles took over.
There’s something immediately different about his presence behind the decks. You can tell he isn’t just some guy filling a time slot — there’s an understanding there, a feel for how a room like Bigs breathes. As an event organizer and close friend of Honeycomb, he knew exactly what his job was: prime the crowd and set the tone for whatever chaos Honeycomb was about to unleash.
The first stretch of his set hit hard. Heavy, repetitive bass shook the room, the kind of low-end you feel more in your chest than in your ears. He layered in chopped vocals, call-and-response moments, and little pockets of crowd play between sections, keeping people locked in and bouncing even when the patterns repeated. It wasn’t the most intricate thing in the world, but the flow was there — and it was genuinely solid.
If anything, it almost felt too big for the room at first. The bass was cranked to the point where some of the details got swallowed. The mix leaned muffled, like the subs were hogging all the oxygen. You could still tell he had a good voice on the mic, but it sometimes fought to cut through the wall of bass.
Then he started dialing it in.
The moment he eased off the bass and let the highs breathe, everything opened up. His transitions felt cleaner, the melodic elements glowed a little brighter, and you could finally hear the full contour of what he was trying to do. When he brought the top end up and let the mix sharpen, he crushed it — those same ideas suddenly felt intentional instead of overwhelming.
Visually, he threw in a little nod for the locals — a signature Joe Pruitt moment the Sioux Falls regulars clearly recognized. His color-saturated head spinning, multiplying, and shooting lasers from its eyes has become a signature visual experience in the Sioux Falls EDM scene.
The wubz themselves were a mixed bag. Some of the sound design landed a bit flat, like ideas still in progress. But when they hit, they really hit. And then there was his beatboxing, which felt like his secret weapon. Any time he leaned into that, it cut straight through the muddiness and showed off a different side of his skill set: precise and percussive.
Honeycomb
Right out of the gate, Honeycomb hit us with those phat bass drops and the weird, interesting loops people recognize from his Omegle clips. The signature sounds were all there — the little vocal chops and textures he’s practically branded himself with online — but this time they were wrapped in something I honestly wasn’t expecting: actual structure. Where his Omegle reels feel like chaotic, bite-sized showcases of what he can do, this set felt more cohesive, more intentional. The phrases had room to breathe, the buildups landed, and the drops felt like payoff instead of just flexes.
That opening stretch was easily the strongest part of his set. He laid down big, satisfying drops, clever looping, and just enough crowd play to keep people yelling and grinning at each other between hits. But as he started branching out stylistically, the energy got a little scattered. Enough that the middle section lost some of its punch — a few sentiments shared with me by audience members. You could feel pockets of the crowd disconnect.
The potential was there in a big way, but the direction got muddy right at a core moment when the set needed to double down instead of drift.
To his credit, he recovered pretty well. By this point, Honeycomb and Mr. Wobbles were performing B2B, and a more upbeat loop brought people back. You could feel the energy being revived as the crowd started moving again. Still, it felt like Honeycomb’s strongest moments were early on when he was operating solo, fully in his own lane, rather than during the B2B stretches with Mr. Wobbles. The chemistry was there, but it also occasionally blurred the focus, like two really good ideas fighting for the same space.
There was one B2B moment that absolutely slapped, though. They broke out a funky little keyboard solo that cut through the low-end and lifted the whole vibe. Over a jazz-funk-leaning beat, they sprinkled in some tastefully jarring dissonance and quick fills that gave the section a live, improvisational feel. It was clear that under the memes and viral clips, there’s a serious musician at work.
Afterglow
Before we left, I managed to sneak in a game of chess with a local who carries around his handcrafted, magnetic chessboard. Ali, more-or-less, signed me up for it. But I was more than happy to get humbled by the guy who clearly takes it more seriously than me. I misjudged the diagonal my knight landed on and sacrificed it to his queen only five or six moves in. I never even got to castle.
Earlier in the night, Ali mentioned that staying for Wylin’s set would likely make it difficult to beat last call at the Top Hat. Remembering that tonight started as an impromptu date night — not a journalism gig — I agreed to leave early so we could finish out our evening together where I knew she’d be most comfortable.
There was no reluctance in doing so, as the night shaped up to be a lot of fun before Wylin’s set. It was full of surprises, bass, Joe’s face, and some honest conversation between friends — really couldn’t ask for more. On the way out, I caught wind that Bigs is rolling out an upgraded sound system for Bass-giving next Saturday — supposedly tuned to keep things crisp. So, if you’re not busy after Thanksgiving, it may be worth checking out.
