Music for a Monday on a Tuesday: The Roots Are Hip-Hop Professionals

This is completely speculative and unconfirmed, but I think I was among the first people to ever see the Roots perform a critical mass of songs from Game Theory. The album dropped on August 29, 2006, and a few weeks earlier, my mans 'an 'em and I had gone to see them at Webster Hall in New York. I only mention this because I distinctly remember thinking that Game Theory had sounded very good when performed live, and that incorporating the new tracks was a nice progression away from the standard "Web"-"Apache"-"Next Movement" set list that had come to characterize post-Tipping Point Roots shows. Game Theory, a standout record by its own merits, had reinvigorated the live Legendary experience, something important if you're now into your second dozen trips to rock with the Best.

I still love the energy of "Here I Come" performed in person, and it was this fond memory that led me to buy a ticket to the Roots show in New York a few weeks ago. They were touring as part of VH1's Hip-Hop Honors promotion, and I assumed that I'd see a set similar to what I'd witnessed last summer, only with a few more old-ass rappers dragged out for the sake of keeping it real. Ain't nothing wrong with that.

But oh, how I was mistaken.

First, though, let me just say that really, the confusion wasn't my fault. As I just wrote, the Roots had become a little stale in the wake of "Star" and "Don't Say Nuthin'." So many shows seemed to have the same set list; the nonce performers like Rahzel and Scratch were long gone; Captain Kirk and Martin Luther (when he was still around) were putting on impromptu rock sets. Even the Hip-Hop 101 had become formulaic. Game Theory helped to change that, but some reputation damage had been done. Plus, I'd seen them at Lollapalooza this past summer and they had put on an exceedingly vanilla set tailor made for white people at a festival. All of these factors had lulled me--I'd say justifiably--into an embarrassing malaise of fandom that straddled the line between skepticism and cynicism. As much as I was excited by the prospect of seeing Game Theory tracks interspersed among the regulars, I also assumed I'd be mildly underwhelmed.

But again, I was mistaken.

As close to on time as any rap show will ever be--we barely had time for the house DJ to spin "Mad Izm," although he did get it in (*wipes his brow and exhales*)--and without an opening act, the Roots hit the stage and promptly broke into Run-D.M.C.'s "Here We Go." Member-for-the-night and longtime collaborator Skillz traded verses with Black Thought as ?uestlove chopped up Billy Squire's "Big Beat." In possession of "a life," I hadn't read up on the Hip-Hop Honors, so I assumed that perhaps Run-D.M.C. was getting some kind of special recognition. But then, with the full band on stage, the Roots broke into NWA's "Fuck tha Police." Following that, it was EPMD; and then UTFO; and then Rakim Allah. Knuckles sang Luther Vandross. ?uestlove helped us all segue into the Jungle Brothers' "Because I Got It Like That." Thought and Skillz almost perfectly imitated Guru, then Greg Nice and Smooth B. Nas, Special Ed, Wu-Tang (Thought does a great Method Man), Main Source, Kool G Rap--it was all covered. Over the course of two hours, the Legendary escorted us along a heartfelt homage to their influences. Oh by the way, they were aided by Big Daddy Kane and MC Lyte, who both came out for mini-sets embedded within the Roots' show.

Just writing all of that out has forced me to catch my breath because it was an exhilarating evening. Including an encore, the Roots performed for two-and-a-half hours, but incredibly, they only played about five of their own songs. The supercilious reader might scoff at this, concluding that the Legendary had demeaned themselves as nothing more than an exceptional cover band, but that couldn't be further from the truth and the spirit of the evening. It was, instead, a sublime demonstration of both musicianship and hip-hop culture.

The old maxim that people like the Roots because "they play their own instruments" has been fodder for jokes on this interweb, but it also remains true. Though a growing number of artists are performing while accompanied by bands and the supposed spectacle of a rap group playing music instead of spinning records will always carry some sort of innate intrigue, the Roots are exceptional musicians. I believe that Bol's readers even anointed ?uestlove as the second-greatest drummer of all time, behind only John Bonham. Their dedication to the craft can be lost as we take their sound for granted, but watching them so enthusiastically perform cherished songs and so precisely execute a well-coordinated set was a rare treat for music fans. You couldn't help but marvel at their skill and their devotion. I found that it engendered an odd sort of optimism in me. From the steady percussion to the crisp guitar riffs, the Roots put their musical chops on full display. And they were beaming the whole time, obviously enthused by the songs and the meaning of their nightlong gesture.

Similarly, their faithful recreations of so many foundational hip-hop sounds was an obvious reminder that as voluminous as ?uestlove's record collection may be, it is perhaps exceeded by the group's living curation of hip-hop's past. ?uesto and Black Thought, in particular, exuded a nearly spiritual connection to the rap canon, simultaneously rocking the show and inviting the audience to attempt to fathom just how much time the Roots must spend on tour buses, in random cities, and at home discussing and celebrating rap music. Part of any given concert's appeal is the attendant possibility that the people in the audience will not only hear their favorite music but also will connect with their musical heroes and the other laypeople who love the music just as much. The Roots delivered on that promise at the Hip-Hop Honors show; it was evident as one surveyed the crowd and saw complete strangers dancing and rapping together as though they were schoolyard friends.

Amidst this special night--one that, as you can tell, made this die-hard hater temporarily abandon his sarcasm and acerbic predisposition--a personal highlight occurred when Tariq channeled Kool G Rap for a breathtaking rendition of "Men at Work." And I mean breathtaking. Standing at the edge of the stage, Black Thought rapped with a sustained ferocity that no other MC could possibly summon for five straight minutes in concert. It was an homage to the tight verses and cadences that have so clearly made Black Thought the rapper he is; it was an exercise is perfect breath control; and it was an ostentatious demonstration of Tariq's exceptional talent. He is often knocked for failing to create memorable verses or couplets--the sorts of easily invoked quotes and one-liners that we associate with Jay-Z, for example--but Black Thought cannot possibly be marginalized by any sane person who's not only heard Roots records but also seen such a singular performer. After years of hip-hop-concert attendance, I was shocked by how, well, shocking I found it. It was incredible.

When the show was finally over; after the Roots played a few Roots songs; after Kane wrecked his catalogue (as he always does) and even danced with Scoob; after Dice Raw toted the weed and got some money for rent, I walked out of the theater reminded of how much I appreciate the Roots and how much I appreciate rap music. That's something to really savor. The Roots do this well.

- Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, "Men at Work"

- The Roots, "Thought@Work"