In the wake of last weekend's Rock the Bells hip-hop festival, enough cyber-ink has been spilled on the Internet Super Highway to cause a rather nasty pileup... or so you would think. Thankfully, the Internet is infinite, and as Fat Joe says when desert rolls around, "There's always room for more."
What I'm
trying to say is, I've got some thoughts on the biggest hip-hop concert of the millennium and I think people are gonna want to hear them! The New York Times already offered its take on the show, focusing on Rage Against the Machine's now irrelevant political statement and barely mentioning the rest of the acts. The race-baiters over at XXL made sure to make a big song and dance of the fact that there were a lot of "cracka-ass-crackas" on Randall's Island, even going so far as to congratulate whites for attending live hip-hop with such enthusiasm. (Were they really surprised? Dudes need to get out more...) Finally, Paul Rosenberg (of "Throw Some Cheese" fame) offered this pretty humorous video diary of the day, while Palms Out came through big with some great pics.
So, with all that done and dusted, I won't bore with more recaps and set lists and tales of extreme heat. Here are just a few thoughts from my Saturday at Rock the Bells:
Pharoahe's Official Like Starter: When you are planning to be watching music outside for over 10 hours straight, you have to hedge your bets in terms of showing up an agreeable time. I decided to skip out on the first few openers, but this turned out to be a mistake as I was ushered onto the gigantic field by a rousing rendition of Pharoahe's "Right Here." Rocking with a live band, he looked like he was wrapping up a truly stellar set, and luckily I got into the thick of things just in time for "Simon Says," which featured Pharoahe's hype man yelling "Titaaaaayyyyys" in the most insane way ever. The best part about the few songs I caught was Pharoahe's mic control. The sound system was definitely impressive (peep Palms Out to see the imposing tower of speakers), but I haven't heard a rapper spit that clearly since Bow Wow. (No that is not a joke -- say what you want about the young man, but he was reared to be a performer and he learned a lot of things that a lot of rappers never do. In case you're wondering, I caught his performance at Hot 93.7 show when I was living in Hartford, CT. This was a terrible show and at one point I nearly nodded off. Suddenly, I was brought to my senses by a huge surge of hooting and hollering. Naturally, I robotically began to clap as well, assuming there was something worth applauding going on. It turned out Jaheim had just ripped his shirt off, and all the women in the Civic Center -- and Gritz -- were going wild. I have been clowned for this ever since.)
The Future of Hip Hop: The NYT got one thing right -- if a show featuring Wu-Tang, Public Enemy, and EPMD is the "future" of the genre, then things are not looking good. Even on the Paid Dues indie stage, everyone had been in the game for at least a decade plus. Hopefully the organizers meant the future of hip-hop in terms of large-scale festivals to rival the likes of Coachella, Lalapalooza, etc. I can get with that.
Best and Worst: The lineup was so incredible that this is a tough call, but unfortunately I have to say that EPMD didn't do it for me. I have been a fan for a while now, but maybe I'm showing my ignorance of the back catalog when I wonder why they didn't drop any hits from Back in Business, like "Da Joint" and "Richter Scale?" I feel these might have got the crowd jumping. My only criticism of a lot of legendary crews I've seen perform recently (including Wu, to be honest) is that accusing the crowd of "not knowing their history" can only get you so far. At the end of the day, if you are getting it cracking, people will respond. Everyone should act like they are openers trying to get a response even if people don't know their joints. Of course, outdoor hip-hop is a always a tough gig, and it's much easier for a rock band to pump up the energy levels just because of the level of noise and nature of the music, but it's telling that (barring one requisite political diatribe) Zack De La Rocha did not say anything to during the entire Rage set. They just played their music and the audience responded.
As for best, Cypress Hill really impressed. They were not even close to my favorite act in the lineup, but their set was energetic, professional, and at times hilarious (like when drummer Bobo took an enormous bong hit while everyone chanted his name). Another highlight was Supernatural's endless freestyling. The man is simply amazing. I think he had an actual set at like 11:30 a.m., but he came on between every other act and just freestyled about anything that came up. At one point he rapped exclusively about water for over 10 minutes. Later, Razel joined him onstage and he kicked verses in the style of Biggie, Busta Rhymes, and some of the Wu members. Simply incredible. I'm convinced he's still going now, wherever he is...
Happy Slug? I didn't spend that much time at the Paid Dues stage, mostly because I've been lucky enough to see a lot of the acts (like Sage Francis and Brother Ali) in smaller venues. But I was glad I took a break from the mainstage to peep Felt, the Slug and MURS supergroup. MURS organized the excellent Paid Dues lineup and was rocking a ridiculous one-piece Nascar suit with a hairstyle that made him look like a black Sideshow Bob. He and Slug have good chemistry, and Slug himself might have been the underdog highlight of the whole day. Cycling through hits like "God Loves Ugly" and "Tryin' to Find a Balance," he was not only killing it per usual, but he was happy! Last time I saw him at the Middle East in Boston, he got insanely wasted and spent over 20 minutes reading an unfriendly review from a local rag and then yelling about it. This time he was enjoying the weather, cracking jokes, and showcasing a new mustache. He even previewed a new track called "Sunshine."
The Paid Dues stage was also located on the field where I spent a bizarre month of the spring teaching Upper East Side middle schoolers how to play lacrosse, a game which I do not actually know how to play. Very fitting.
Pandemic! Pandemic! The worst concert I have ever been to was a Dipset show in Worcester, Mass. How could a Dipset show be bad? Let me count the ways. 1) We had to risk our lives driving through a blizzard to get to "War-Town." 2) The show was not actually in the arena, but rather a dull conference hall that didn't even have a real stage. 3) The average age was about 16, which when combined with #2 gave the whole thing the feel of a high school dance gone bad. 4) There was no alcohol. 5) The local warmup act was literally forced offstage after fighting with the crowd instead of performing. 6) Juelz and Jimmy performed for a total of 25 minutes, while a recently shot Camron did not utter a single word.
I could go on, that's all irrelevant information. The point is that at that show, there was an insane epidemic of young kids projectile vomiting on themselves and collapsing to the ground in death-like fetal positions. I'm not sure who was selling the ecstasy, but I'm pretty sure it was Freekey Zeekey. And I have a feeling he had his wares up in Rock the Bells as well, because even in such high heat, I've never seen so many people randomly pass out.
If a Bomb Went Off On Randall's Island... the whole of hip-hop would grind to a halt... for a bit... in the Tri-State area. I'm joking of course, that would have been awful. But after Rage finished its encore with the "Killing In the Name," Randall's Island truly looked like the scene of guerilla warfare. As I waded through the piles of debris, past corpse-like revelers and discarded burritos, I thought to myself, "I would be surprised if everyone makes it out of here in one piece."
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