A small splash was made in the media when Mos Def--one-third of Black Star along with fellow front man Talib Kweli and DJ Hi-Tek--announced that he was changing his name to Yasiin Bey. Over the years he has been known by many names and titles--Dante, Flacco, Mos and more--but the purpose of his name change, inspired by the Qur'an, was to erase the separation between performance and personal identity. As Yasiin told MTV, "[I don't want] to deal [any more] with having any moniker or separation between the self that I see and know myself as." So with that settled, I walked into the show at Fete Music in Providence prepared to see what this newly monikered and spiritually liberated MC would do.
In fairness, I was a bit skeptical; I had been burned in the past. A little history: I first saw Mos Def live in the '90s, on tour with De La Soul and first heard his music as an early Rawkus artist a few years earlier. I was impressed; this dude had undeniable swagger and a classic style. His classified ad might have read: 'Brooklyn born MC with clear Jamaican influences, political, lyrical and fun seeks socially conscious fans of hip-hop to party with.' That was the Mos Def I became comfortable with. I saw the launching of Black Star as a step in the right direction, not just for the group but for hip-hop as a whole. Dope production and a balanced attack from two very different but equally competent MCs, it was like the rebirth of A Tribe Called Quest. Mos was heralding a restoration of balance to the force at a time when hip-hop had gone gloriously mainstream, alarmingly tipped to the side of violence and drugs and all things gangster/playerism.
And then it happened. First came the backlash against being called a conscious rapper. I understood; no one likes to be put in a box, but at the time I should have seen the signs of something deeper developing. The most obvious sign of an artist searching for an identity was the experiment known as "Black Jack Johnson," a foray into rock that left many faithful fans feeling less than impressed. I have to admit I entered a season of skepticism where I was beginning to prefer Mos as an actor.
The opening act, Dirty Durdie, did a more than passable job of representing an up and coming hip-hop act. They repped their DJs, engaged the crowd with a steady stream of call-and-response, and kept the energy up throughout their presentation. It was clear they appreciated the opportunity to play a packed room. At the end of their set came the announcement, "We are experiencing a 15 minunte delay, please stand by."
In the intervening hour that we waited for Mos to appear, one of the DJs from Dirty Durdie set about spinning an old school hip-hop set. He did well. He got us hyped. He spun the right tunes. Hearing "Faking the Funk" by Main Source, I yelled out, "If he plays 'Looking at the Front Door' next he is official; I would even accept 'Your Mom's in My Business' by Special K, but anything else and he is WHACK!!" A few moments later he blended in "Looking at the Front Door" perfectly and dropped it in right on time. I instantly became a fan and considered it a good omen.
Mos rolled out on staged backed up by two DJs, one on wax and the other on beats. Dressed in '80s throwback style with a few twists, he plugged in his custom microphone and started soundcheck #2. Technical difficulties got ironed out fairly quickly, and we were off and running, sort of. He announced himself by name, understandable for someone who is already famous to do so when they have just changed their Noms de guerre. He then ran through a few minutes of warm up before launching into some tunes from The Ecstatic. We were then treated to a back and forth of DJs spinning non-Mos Def tunes interspersed with Mos rhyming over the breaks.
Now let me be clear, I like conceptual art, I like it a whole lot. And I also get what Mos was going for with the show. I just disagree with the execution.
Throughout the show, we were treated to snippets of nostalgia bathed in red, red lighting. A roll call of birth years, playing of original tunes that were then sampled as Mos Def tunes, all somewhat understandable--it was his birthday after all, and who doesn't wax poetic on a birthday? This part of the show clearly seemed a throwback to the basement parties that characterized early hip-hop. The DJ was the main feature in those days, and the MC assisted in keeping the crowd hype during the set. But as fond as my memories are from that time, I am pretty sure, judging from the response, that the crowd was much more interested in hearing tunes from Mos Def's extensive and impressive catalog.
There were definitely some moments where the show seemed to go off the rails only to gloriously settle down into a thick groove with the crowd going wild. A perfect example was the delivery of "Sunshine/Screwface" which went like this:
1. Long verbal intro of what is about to happen including who produced the song (Dilla), a bit of why Mos thinks the song is dope, and that they will play the instrumental and then he will spit it a cappella and THEN he will perform the song.
2. Play the full instrumental (sick BTW, it is Dilla after all) while dancing for the crowd.
3. Spit the a cappella.
4. finally play the song accompanied by great crowd appreciation
In this sequence, as in the show overall, the best part came at the end. After the long journey through the mind of Yasiin Bey, we were finally treated to some classic Mos Def tunes at the end including "Traveling Man," which had been loudly requested by the five guys directly behind me throughout the show.
All in all, it was a fairly good show, but I can't help feeling that if it had been played in the reverse order, it would have been a GREAT show. If he had come out to a classic tune that everyone knew, we would all have instantly forgotten that he made us wait an hour. Instead he made us wait another 90 minutes for what we really came for.
