The Checks Must Have Cleared: The Roots at Radio City

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See that title above? Well, let's just say that for Talib Kweli, that's a really, really, really good thing...

I am not a religious person. I don't believe that there is such a thing as God, I don't pray on the regular, and I find the whole concept of spirituality very difficult to apply to my life. But much like the people on TV or the internets (replete with profanity) who get up and dance (or yell at callers on public-access television), I find that there are times when a supernatural force commandeers control of my body and takes me to a higher place. These instances commonly arise when I go to Michigan football games; watch Tracy McGrady do something spectacular; wear seersucker; lose myself in The New Yorker; and/or attend hip-hop concerts.

Last night, I went to see the Roots at Radio City Music Hall, and it was like going to church.

But hold up, first we gotta turn the beat off. I had to turn the beat off because...the show was also advertised as featuring Nas, Common, and Talib Kweli. Where was it advertised as such? On the interwebs and on the radio. Radio like Hot 97? Yes.

When you go to a concert having anything to do with Hot 97, you can usually expect a few things: strong representation from the gully wing of the hip-hop nation; lots of people who will hear a Cam'ron song and assume that keeping it real actually does entail beating up Muslims and those with foot problems; some MySpace-gangster house DJ who thinks that all anyone wants to hear are a bunch of Styles P freestyles and the newest generic R&B/rap collabo; synthetic drama, like R. Kelly running off stage and claiming that Jay-Z had planted people in the crowd who were going to kill the Pied Piper of R&B; and massive delays (you know what I mean).

But when you get involved with anything having to do with the Roots and Okayplayer, the landscape changes. Suddenly, at least half the crowd is white and of that half, a lot of the people are there because the Roots "play their own instruments, man" or because "the Roots are, like, totally cool and fun to smoke to, man"; the house music is mostly classics with a heavy focus on obscure Native Tongues tracks, celebrated hits from the Okayplayer family (Talib, we all see you), or East Flatbush Project; and the show is much more likely to start on time, although that's not a given.

So what happened when these two diametrically opposed forces met in the hallowed halls of Radio City Music, *gulp*, Hall? Well, for at least one day (and certainly not at the record store), Okayplayer won, beating back the force of ignorance we know as Hot 97. Novelty-loving white kids packed the venue; stuff that even Jay Dee had forgotten about got played before the show; and the concert, scheduled for 8, was off and running by 8:10.

Now, about going to church. The Roots are arguably the best live act in the history of hip-hop, and remain quite capable of offering one of the best concerts you'll find in any genre. Over the years, I have had the privilege of regularly seeing them perform, and around the time of Things Fall Apart, they were putting on some shows that engendered unadulterated euphoria. I mean, you couldn't help but jump up and move with the spirit. You know? Cast out sin, touch my forehead, testify--the Roots crew was in the house, and you were rocking with the best. It was exhilarating.

When they dropped Phrenology and started making a concerted effort to sound different, the shows changed. The jamming increased as the studio tracks incorporated more instrumentation that lent itself to improvisation; classic Roots shit from Illadelph and Do You Want More?!!!??! likely grew tedious having been played for years and years and dropped out of the touring catalogue; the lineup changed and expanded, with dudes like Martin Luther and Kirk Douglas and Ben Kenney and Frankie Knuckles coming aboard while Scratch and Rahzel left. All in all, change happened, and it was sometimes good, sometimes bad, consistently inconsistent. A turn toward the worse, creatively and from a performance standpoint, was cemented with The Tipping Point, a boring record with few, fleeting moments of salvation. I couldn't stand the set I saw the Roots put together last summer, and it was disillusioning. One of my groups, one of the exciting saviors and champions of hip-hop seemed lost. Suddenly, going to their shows wasn't like going to church; the spirit was gone.

Like any apostate, though, I can't turn my back on something that has meant so much to me and has provided the unique sensation of willing submission. So I soldier on with the Legendary: I remain calm, my lighter pushed up because they do what they do and I love the Crew. Any words of rebuke are conjured while immersed in a deep well of regret and frustration--I don't want to be let down by the Roots because if they can't do it for me (), who will? Trappin' out a dope house is boring and makes for underwhelming live shows.

Luckily, that wasn't the case last night; we had a little revival. Bienvenue to the Roots! The show started with the usual--"And it weighs a ton..."--but that was about as similar as the evening got to a(n inferior) Roots show of recent vintage. After a few originals, including "Dynamite!" the Roots segued into the Incredible Bongo Band portion of the evening. The Bongo Band classic "Apache" gave us drums that have been used by everyone, including the Roots for "Thought @ Work" and the Sugarhill Gang for their classic, "Apache." So those were the next two songs of the night, and those famous drums took the show right into its first twist, Nas's "Made You Look," another track indebted to the Bongo Band.

With "Made You Look," of course, came Nas. I hadn't ever seen Nas in concert before, and his planned appearance was one of the persuading factors that got me to shell out $36 for my ticket. I can't say that I got my money's worth, although I am oddly not upset about this. Mr. Illmatic did four songs--"Made You Look," "It Ain't Hard to Tell," "The World Is Yours," and "If I Ruled the World." That's bullshit, right? Wrong, and I have no idea why.

Forever, I had heard from people that Nas was horrible in concert--"He just kind of gets boring," I was informed. I guess I can see that. The guy doesn't write songs with fantastic hooks; much of his appeal stems from his lyricism, a quality best appreciated at home or in your whip; and soloists, in general, need to be pretty fucking captivating to prance around for an hour, let alone anything more than that. So maybe I went in with a diminished level of expectation. But honestly, I woke up yesterday most excited about seeing Nas, and I should have been upset and ready to slap his kufi off after he basically waited for the check to clear before getting his ass off stage. But still, there was something cathartic, satisfying, thirst quenching, even, about yelling out "Nas is like the Afro-centric Asian/Half man, half amazin'" amidst several thousand other people who were losing their shit as he tore through his verses and the Roots put together a fantastic version of Michael Jackson's "Human Nature" in the background. Similarly, I can't tell you how much fun I had screaming "...Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit'/The thief's theme, play me at night they won't act right...." It was like a sprint down memory lane: finished too soon but a great trip nonetheless.

After Nas got his money and tore off to twist out Kelis back at home, the Roots--who played "back up" all night for their guests--got back into their shit with the few highlights from Tipping Point, "Star" and "Boom!" The latter, an intended tribute to Kool G Rap and Big Daddy Kane, was an appropriate bridge over which we all traveled as the show transitioned into the night's next guest: Kane. As you are perhaps aware, the man still brings the heat. Last night was no different, although his stay on stage was brief, hitting us with just "Raw" and "Warm It Up Kane" before going back to wherever they keep him in between guest spots at concerts.

There was a little more Roots music and then the artist who was probably the second-leading star of the night, Common, hit the stage. I've seen dude a bunch in the past few years, and this was one of his better performances. (Side note #1: I really think that more solo MCs should check up on the concert guest-spot phenomenon. It helps to concentrate their strengths and prevents them from doing anything stupid, like bringing too many weed carriers up on stage.) Com laced his verse from "The Bizness" before giving us a lot of joints from Be, most notably "Food," my favorite track from the album. (Side note #2: Dave Chappelle walked out from behind the stage at the end of the night but did nothing, said nothing, and was basically just there to show off how cool he thinks he is, hanging out with rappers and all that. Had he appeared as Silky Johnson, that would have been appreciated.) As is his custom, Common trotted out "The Light" and ended with a satisfying albeit predictable medley of "Used to Love H.E.R." and "Act Too."

As Common left to the beat from Kanye's "Get 'Em High," the evening entered the tragedy portion of the night: Talib Kweli came out and confirmed what many had long suspected--he is no longer a commercially viable artist. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WAS THIS A DISASTER. Talib busted a garbled freestyle over "Get 'Em High" (Side note #3: If you're gonna freestyle at a rap show, pick a beat that won't force you to swallow so many syllables. We already have no idea what you're going to say; please do us a favor and make your words audible. Thanks, Management) and then performed one half of three respective songs. Effectively announcing that his career has been totally irrelevant for almost five years, Kweli performed "Definition" from the Black Star album (released in 1999); "The Blast" from the Reflection Eternal album (released in 2000); and "Get By" from Quality (released in 2002). It was sort of pathetic watching a gifted MC whose music I have loved in the past trying to find some way to get the crowd to care about him. Even "Definition," a standby, was received only tepidly by the most sympathetic crowd Kweli's ever gonna find. It was really sad, and I hope that Talib's bookstore or whatever else he does has made him rich, because he's never selling anything more than double aluminum again. He couldn't have fallen off worse had he stopped taking the cream and the clear. What a shame.

Following an unusually sedate rendition of half of "Get By" the Roots took over for the rest of the night, blending tracks from Phrenology and Things Fall Apart with the regular array of solos. Notable, though, were: 1) DJ Jazzy Jeff was the man spinning with the Roots on this night, and he was fantastic (Side note #4: There needs to be more cutting and DJing in hip-hop right now, both live and on record. "Don't Fool with the Dips" was my second-favorite song from 2005 mostly because of A-Trak cutting so effectively. Please take note, rappers.) 2) Kamal didn't get to lead the Legendary in a Hip-Hop 101 lesson. Why not? Because he didn't have a solo. Why not? Because there was only so much time allotted for the show. So? So, 20 minutes were taken up by the Godfather of Noyze, Rahzel. Read. That. Again.

Rahzel hasn't been touring with the Roots since 1999 or so, when he dropped his lame-ass solo album, beefed with the Roots, and then functionally fell off the face of the earth. Since his departure from the group, the Roots have been missing a certain performance flair that was unique to a man who can basically imitate any noise with his mouth and convincingly recreate entire songs--bass, melody, and lyrics simultaneously-- using just his vocals. I thought his beatboxing skills, the Homosapiens to the Cro-Magnon stylings of the Fat Boys--were a lost relic of hip-hop, something perhaps fondly remembered but unlikely to be heard again. And thankfully I was wrong. Rahzel was amazing, running through everything from the Wu-Tang Clan to all those generic reggae songs you hear on the radio on Sunday nights to "Jesus Walks" to the club joint that brought the house down, Busta's "Touch It." Honestly, I think most people would have been happy had Rahzel just put on the functional equivalent of a two-hour dance party, conjuring songs left and right.

(Side note #5: Rahzel's stage time as a soloist tripled Talib Kweli's. If that isn't an indictment, I don't know what is. Next thing you know, Talib will be opening up for Freaky Zeeky or some shit. You couldn't even get equal shine to that of a novelty act? Damn, homey! In backpack circles you was the man, homey! The fuck happened to you?)

The Roots ended the evening with "The Seed," a song that Carl of Aqua Teen Hunger Force likely had in mind when imploring Meatwad to "incorporate more keyboards and tambourines--you know, the stuff that white people like" on the DangerDoom album.

All in all, it was a fairly satisfying night: I got to see Nas; he got paid; Talib Kweli had a retirement party; Common didn't embarrass himself; Rahzel came back; Kane continued to long live; and the Roots looked to be getting back on the right track, playing their shit in recognizable ways without sacrificing some of the cherished live elements (like covers). Not the holiest of nights, but at least I was worshipping again.