[live review] Jay-Z and Kanye bring the cray, some lasers to the Garden
Maybe I've just been spending too much time in the Phoenix newsroom,
but it was hard to sit inside the Garden on Monday night and not let
my mind wander to those holed up around the corner in Dewey Square. And
no, not just because of JAY-Z's recent bout of exploitation in the name of the Roc. Or because of KANYE WEST's recent bout of solidarity (read: opportunity to flash his fronts) on Wall Street.
More than anything, it was the album they were occupying Boston in the name of. Watch the Throne, their first collaborative full length effort, an effort which I derided upon its release
for being excessively excessive -- criticism made all the more
pertinent during these times when kids are literally getting the shit
beat out of them in protest of the very same virtues these two espouse.
So
while those less than a mile away from the arena were presumably
heating up cans of soup with their Bic lighters, Kanye took to the stage
in a leather kilt that probably costs more than what this writer makes
in six months. And the crowd came out in their Sunday's best, only if
they went to church in the club.
And
there were lasers. And pyrotechnics. A football field-sized American
flag used only for a single song. Dueling two-story risers,
adorned with LED images that gave the perception they were rapping
on-top of shark tanks. In the immortal words of Dave Chappelle, "the most ballinest shit ever." Basically, the Death Star assault scene
from Episode IV meets a shiny-suit-era Puffy and Mase video.
A
spectacle by-and-by. And an integral one at that, because if you have
ever seen either Jay or Kanye's solo performance (Hov three times, Yeezy
twice, myself), the barebones performance aspect wasn't all that different. Both have hits for
days, with Jay's standard bearers popping the hardest on Monday per usual ("Big
Pimpin',""PSA,""Hard Knock Life").
Personally,
I was more floored by Kanye's solo offerings on the evening merely
because his catalog has seemingly surpassed Jay's in terms of stadium
bangers. Every time I thought they were on the verge of wrapping up
their eventual two-and-a-half hour extravaganza, Kanye would launch into
"Touch the Sky" or "All of the Lights" or "Good Life," and I would
proclaim rather audibly, "OOHHH YEAH, he got this one too."
When sharing the stage, the most refreshing material was their non-Throne
collaborations. Like hearing their bookended verses on "Monster," or
Jay's casual interruption on their "Diamonds" remix ("I got it from here ‘Ye, DAMN"), easily the night's
highlight for me.
Maybe it's just that the WTT
material still needs to set in, but most of it came across as cagey and
uninspired. Save "No Church in the Wild," for which Kanye's verse will
undoubtedly top my year end list of favorites to belt along with, windows down in
my car ("LAST NIGHT WAS MAD REAL"). Show-opening "H.A.M." worked as
well, allowing me a glimpse at the track in the environment for which it
was conceived: a stadium packed with 20K people collectively losing
their shit in anticipation.
Oh
yeah, then there was "Niggas In Paris." Maybe you've heard by now, but
they played it six times. In a row. Once presumably to close out the
set. Then asking the crowd to get live before Hov shouted "AGAIN," and
we all balled so hard motherfuckers wanted to fine us. Then they left
the stage, came back, and dropped it again. Alerted us that the record
for most times they've played it at a stop on this tour was five, set in
Atlantic City and Miami. And finally three more times, granting us
bragging rights, for now at least. Who knows? By the time they reach the
mid-December tour closer in Vancouver, they could just be playing "Niggas In
Paris" for three straight hours.
While
this may sound absurd on every level, it actually worked, mostly
because everyone in the building recognized the absurdity. By the time
they asked us all to stand on our seats in exchange for the sixth go
around, I was keeled over, nearly pissing my pants at the charades
happening on stage. Hard to imagine any other act pulling off this cray
shit. I saw M83 on Sunday night and wouldn't have minded if he dropped
"Midnight City" six times in a row. I'm going to see Bob Seger in
Worcester next Tuesday. Maybe he'll play "Night Moves" six times.
Also
worth mentioning was the duo's varying dispositions. As always, Jay lit
up the jumbotrons with his contagious grin, while Kanye looked very
much on edge, like he was constantly on the verge of either running
offstage in a crying fit or Ron Artest-ing someone in the audience. It
was of my belief that he exorcised his "inner demons" via Dark Twisted Fantasy, but you wouldn't think that watching him on stage. Here's to his next album being similarly batshit as his previous one.
And
lastly, and certainly least, where the fuck was Memphis Bleek? Jay's life-long hype man
was nowhere to be found Monday night, presumably subjected to roadie
duties thanks to the emergence of Hov's new BFFL. Someone put that bro
on suicide watch.