Arriving at Fête on the tough side of Providence, RI, was easy enough, as we found parking on the street close to this live music venue. A quick stop to get searched at the door, and in we went remembering what Chris Rock said about what the guys outside the club know. Off in a side room with a bar showing the Celtics-Sixers game, a rockabilly band was playing to a sparse crowd. But we were here for Talib, and the main venue had band equipment set up on stage before a wide but shallow crowd space, ensuring that small club feel and raising hopes for an intimate, organic show.
Of the opening acts, Juan Deuce and Thr33 Piece Suit, Juan Deuce stood out (though we did miss other-other opener K.I.T. to watch the Sixers and drink Narragansetts). Deuce's strong, lucid flow, playful manner and content, and relatively unadorned beats kept the focus on his tight MCing. This seemed to portend a blessed night of artful hip-hop music.
Talib came out rocking what appeared to be a vintage Shure dynamic microphone and he immediately struck up his band in a rendition of The Beastie Boys’ “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” in tribute to the recently deceased M.C.A. The Brooklyn-born Kweli repeatedly wished M.C.A. to rest in peace, while also mentioning Boston’s late Donna Summers. But any hopes that this show might channel the emotions generated by these recent reminders of our shared mortality into one charged night were soon dissipated.
It was surely bittersweet when Talib introduced his set by saying that he woke up that morning not knowing how he could perform due to a cold. I suppose he meant to demonstrate his dedication; that in spite of his malaise, he found a way to get up on stage and spit for Providence. This revelation also would prove to excuse his yeomanlike, yet mechanical performance. Talib's live band featured a drummer, bassist, and keys, in addition to the DJ and Kweli. It’s always a good sign for a rap show to have a live band, and these cats added a certain dynamism to the show. However, the solos they performed at Talib’s request were rather pedantic.
Talib gave Fête an acapella version of “Distractions,” a song premiered at Occupy Wall Street, and which is due to be included on his upcoming LP Prisoner of Conscious. He then appeased the near-capacity crowd with several hits from his catalog. Songs like “Get By,” “Soon the New Day,” and “Never Been in Love,” were treats but definitely would have benefited from a background vocalist. Moreover, certain hot collaborations simply begged for Talib or someone, anyone, to fill in and rap the non-Talib verse. For instance, when “Get Em High” is performed, Kweli’s verse is, like it or not, merely an appetizer to the sizzling steak dished by Common. The crowd was left hungry The brilliant Blackstar joints, “Definition” and “K.O.S. (Knowledge of Self)” were welcome but felt incomplete without Mos Def’s parts. Perhaps only “Hot Thing” was an addition by subtraction: less will.i.am, more Blacksmith.
With apologies to Rick Ross, this show made me think of Talib Kweli as “The Numbers Man,” at least for a night. Not that he hustled us; despite its brevity (Talib was on stage for a short hour), it was enjoyable. And I’m not referring to the color-by-numbers activity books my son has strewn on the living room floor; this MC’s cerebral flow and dense lyricism was on display. No, for this night, he was The Numbers Man because the show seemed to be done “by the numbers.” It was a professional rap show, no more and no less. It was as if Talib knew he was ill and decided to do what needed to be done that night. No one but Kweli knows how sick he was and correspondingly how difficult it was for him to perform in that state. What the crowd did know is that we received a small taste of Talib’s genius. If justice is people getting what they deserve, then Talib Kweli gave us justice, but some of us wanted some grace.
