In the spirit of fairness and frankness, I’m going to turn the tables a bit and shine a light on the forgotten heroes of the live music event: the opening act. In the same manner, I’m going to shine a light on the other forgotten heroes of the live music event: the under-21 crowd.
Along with the ability to recover from binge drinking, spirit and energy are often the first to go when you exit adolescence. You cross the bridge into your twenties and with frightening speed begin to chisel and chip away at your precious trophy of youth. But you don’t realize it right away. You see it as a much anticipated progression into a fresh world of adult maturity and sophistication, and scoff at the impulsive behavior of those self-absorbed teenage losers. That is, until you deposit yourself into an auditorium packed to the gills with every giggling, texting, iPhoning, seat-stealing, name-calling, argument-instigating teenager in town. You feel now, that at a mere 27 years old, you are old as shit and suddenly all that maturity and sophistication feels utterly irrelevant.
In the same way I blow off annoying teenagers, I blow off opening bands. I show up two hours after the opening act so not to add any unnecessary wrinkles to my forehead by cringing and twitching at the amateurish sounds annihilating my senses. But this night was different.
Waiting in the will-call line, I overhear bits of conversations like, “Dude, this is going to be the best concert ever, dude!” And, “Like, oh my God, what’s that homeless guy doing in here?” Doll-faced youth, in their total lack of social graces, surround me like cattle. But I am smitten nonetheless, partly because their vibrant chatter was strangely delightful, and partly because they are here to see musical acts that I, like, totally approve of.
Zion I, a smiling, dancing, bouncing underground hip-hop duo from Oakland, start the show promptly at 8pm when the room is still half-empty. They open with “Juicy Juice,” a sleepy, down-tempo track from their new album, The Take Over, into whose title track they immediately segue. The message of the album is pretty clear : “Doesn’t matter what you think, feel free, you can hate on me, I’m in deep . . . and the music’s coming over me. It’s the take over . . . I open up my heart and let the soul provide, so open up your heart and let the soul revive.”
Moving right along to the epitome of why studies have shown that this band may significantly reduce your risk of cancer: a song called “Temperature” from their 2005 album True and Livin’. A song that’s much too short for how good it is and perpetuating hip-hop’s reputation for sending positive messages, vocalist Talib Kweli chants, “Gotta keep my head up, even though I’m fed up. It’s getting hard to eat, with all the drama in the street,” while Zumbi interjects with “It’s getting hotter every day . . . It’s getting hot in every way.” But spliced between a glut of substantial subject matter, positive messages and socially conscious lyrics, Zion I also kick back and wax poetic in songs about “rockin’ da party” and how to “jump, jump!”
Zion I sell out shows in the bay area and inspire entire crowds (though it doesn’t take much to rouse a bunch of excitable 18 year olds) who for the most part has never heard of them to jump and dance and wave their hands around with an energy usually saved for the headliners.
So by this point, the crowd of sitters is standing, the standers are dancing, and the dancers are singing. It seems Zion I are not so unknown after all, and certainly after this show, they will be eagerly welcomed back.
Next up: SOJA, a reggae act from Washington, D.C. who preach about peace, love, and humanity with lyrics like, “One world, one life, one chance, and I don’t wanna wait.” SOJA exemplify a temper that could crush the forces of evil with more heartfelt gusto than the Powerpuff Girls and Sailor Moon combined. Members Ken, Bobby, Jacob, and Ryan are childhood friends and their strong connection is apparent onstage. Clearly inspired by the likes of Bob Marley and the reggae roots movement, SOJA rock the dreadlocks, horns, ska rhythms, and upbeat harmonies as deftly and passionately as their influences. These guys are the perfect band to see live, ideally on a sunny day, outside, in a park. Bring the kids along too.
The headliners, Rebelution, are quite appropriately the spawn of Santa Barbara. Their music conjures images of sunshine and warm beaches as strongly as The Smiths’ conjure images of sad, grey, rain-soaked nights in London. Rebelution rekindle the grassroots California reggae sound and characterize it with loose, “hakuna-matata” vibes, catchy melodies, and a sunny, appealing message that makes the world feel like a better place.
So there you have it, screw Botox and Prozac. Reggae + teenagers = recipe for renewed youth!
