Through the rain and the cold and the waves of marijuana smoke, I went to four hip-hop shows last night at 35 Denton. Here they are in chronological order. You’ll see this is also the order of the show’s greatness, or lack thereof.
Devin the Dude– I like Devin, but just not yesterday. I’ll give credit to the rain, but also my long-held belief that most rap shows should not held outside of clubs. The first rap show I ever went to was when I was 16, when Nas visited the Mid-Hudson Civic Center in Poughkeepsie, New York. Expecting a crowd, I skipped school to buy tickets, then walked right up to ticket window. That should’ve been my first sign. The arena was half-full with poor acoustics, much like Nas’ performance. Had it been in a club, it might’ve been the greatest show of my life.
The same goes for Devin (and Bun B, as you’ll see soon). His style (soft, personal, narcotic) doesn’t mesh with a festival setting, mostly because he’s a niche artist without much broad success. Had he been at Hailey’s later in the night, we would’ve killed. Instead what we got was a lackluster performance and a lackluster crowd. Festival organizers would be wise to save the main stages for artists who actually draw, and perform well outside of clubs. Devin is not either of those.
Bun B– I’ve been a UGK fan since I was a tot, when an older friend introduced me to OutKast’s Aquemini album. I started sniffing around other southern rappers, and found Bun B and Pimp C. I still count “International Players Anthem” as one of the great rap songs of all-time.
I’ll give Bun credit for this: he tried to bring it. When he walked out on stage one of the first things out of his mouth was “I don’t give a f*ck about no water.” The man knew our pain, and as my knees knocked and teeth chattered, I appreciated that. What I would’ve also appreciated is if he performed entire tracks instead of just verses of songs. Mosley and I talked about rap shows a bit after the performance, and he nailed it. “They sometimes become just like long medleys,” he said. I couldn’t agree more. Bun would rip one verse, then switch to another track. He probably burned through 30 songs in less than an hour on stage. It’s efficient, but for people who appreciate how a track is produced, it seems kinda like a clipshow.
That said, he fought for the crowd whenever it waned. He wanted us to enjoy ourselves, and from the amount of weed around me, it seemed like people did.
Main Attrakionz- After getting something to eat, then standing in line for 90 minutes to not get into the Sundress/Oberhofer show (seriously, festival organizers, 90 minutes and we didn’t get in), we split and headed to Hailey’s. As a friend late said, “Best decision of the night.” Walked around the corner to get into the room, and the stage was full of gyrating women, Squadda B swinging a towel, and a shirtless Mondre MAN. I felt like I’d been dropped into a Petey Pablo video. By the end it felt like the “Fu*ck Free World, 313” scene in 8 Mile. The duo tore the roof down, then looked for other things to rip apart.
The “cloud rap” tag they’ve received is warranted, but also pigeonholes them into something they’re not. “Thundercloud rap” may be apropos after Saturday’s show.
Danny Brown- After Main Attrakionz whipped Hailey’s to the point of combustion, the crowd pushed and churned, waiting for the headliner. Before he came on stage, some dude in the bathroom tweeted that he just saw Brown, and that he was ready to pop off. Never mind that this dude was tweeting from the bathroom, focus on the fact he thought it was important enough to mention.
Brown came out — sans entourage, a rarity in Saturday’s shows — in a ruffled camo jacket, but he did anything but blend in. Every verse ended with a plea — “Make some f*cking noise Denton.” — that the crowd was more than happy to oblige. By the end of the set, Hailey’s must’ve been a hundred people over fire code, and there was a girl hanging by the rafter on stage right, swinging and taking video of Brown.
His flat-ironed fro bouncing with each track, Brown burned through The Hybrid and XXX, forcing The Whitest Crowd in Hip-Hop (seriously, check out photos) to gasp for breath at the end of each track.
At the end of his set, with the crowd chanting his name, the most enigmatic man in hip-hop walked back on stage, off the front, and through the crowd. No encore. He had done enough.
