Filed under: Features,Is It Live Or Is It Memorex?,Not Your Average,Old Moufs,Reviews,Shots Fired,Sizzle-chest,The Unkut Opinion,Ya Moms,You Mad
Written by: Robbie Ettelson
So there was a free show the other night featuring Jean Grae and Pharoahe Monch, which isn’t really a big deal since I never really pay to get in anyways and I don’t really know a song that either of ’em have done for the last five years, but eff it. First thing I noticed that were a lot of broads around, which is pretty unusual for a scumbag spot like this one but always a positive. Did all this gals roll up to hear ‘Simon Says’? On closer inspection, I noticed that 85% of these chicks appeared to be on some of that old rug munch status, and then the penny dropped. ‘Oh shit, Jean got this girl-on-girl rap audience in a headlock!’. There also seemed to be your usual fudge pudge of type-Emo rap fans and J. Bieber wannabes, which seems to be par for the course in this fruit basket we call hip-hop now.
Regardless, I was interested to see how the show might progress. When Jean hit the stage, she had long abandoned the old head librarian steez she was rocking in that My Mic Sounds Nice documentary for a tight leather jacket and M.I.A hairdo, accompanied by a bootleg Caron Wheeler and Mr. Len was on the deck. Since a whole lot of sangin’ was going on, so I kinda tuned-out for a while at this point until Ms. Grae took her jacket off and exposed what can best be described as a fair rack. I’m not sure if this and her tatts got me open or if the quality of the last couple of songs suddenly improved dramatically, but I found myself suddenly inching closer to the stage and nodding my head…
A few beers later and Prince Po‘s old buddy turned up wearing a flack jacket with a weed carrier in tow. This weed holder dude turned out to be a kid named Showtime, who is pretty much the most energetic hypeman of all time. At various points in the set of Monch songs which I hardly knew, this little character danced, performed back-ups and sang – usually all at the same time – and at one point was spinning around while hollering at the top of his lungs on what can only be described as James-Brown-on-some-Exorcist shit. This was all fairly amusing, especially the brief trick routine from X-Men Total Eclipse and Boogie Blind, but then things took a turn for the worse. Monch suddenly announces that he’s going to share the ‘future of hip-hop’ with us – which usually means that his weed stasher has his blunt rolled – but in this case, he wheeled out some 12 year-old cracker dressed like…you guessed it…Justin Bieber.
I’m not gonna rag on the kid for dressing like a douche hammer, since that’s what kids do, but the little midget then proceeded to drop a freestyle that even Markey Mark would have grimaced at. So I started screaming abuse from the audience about how he should fuck off and get ready for his paper route the next day, assuming that other more discerning members of the crowd might support my heckling with some booing of their own. Turns out that the crowd thought this junior rapper dude was cute as a button and started cheering him as if he’d just spat the first verse of ‘Prisoners of War’…. to add insult to injury, Monch dropped the beat for ‘Stress’ and then decided to cut it after only four member of the audience sang along to the hook! Simon says go kill yourself. As with the Grae set, things ended strongly for the Pharoahe as he kicked a sick rhyme over what sounded like the beat for Godfather Don’s ‘Seeds of Hate’ (aka some David Axelrod), but once again I was left feeling shot-changed by the whole experience. Live rap stays losing.
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