To call The Roots' recent appearance at the Lyric Opera House a "concert" would be a misnomer. The label of a "show," is perhaps a better approximation, but even that falls short. Part electric-performance, part dance party and part Showtime at the Apollo, the end result is one of the world's greatest live acts and a musical trip unlike any other.
Now, I'm not going to pretend to be any kind of expert on The Roots. In fact, were it not for the suggestion of a close friend, I may not have been there at all. But from the moment I walked in, I was sure I'd made the right decision. Long had I searched for the perfect balance between old-school funk and stylish hip-hop, and as the band's sound overtook the arena, I realized I had stumbled upon my Holy Grail.
The band took full advantage of the expansive Lyric Opera House stage. Frontman Black Thought, mic in hand, moved passionately around the center of it, flanked by bassist Hub, keyboardist Kamal Gray and guitarist Captain Kirk Douglas (not the actor). In the back sat the legendary drummer ?uestlove (pronounced `questlove') and percussionist F. Knuckles (who would prove to mostly be there for visual ornamentation). Over the head of F. Knuckles, the name of the band hung in enormous white letters. On the opposite side of the stage, on risers, was perhaps the best part of the group, the horn section. Led by trombonist Jeff Bradshaw, the quartet titled Brass Heaven also featured a trumpet, a baritone/tenor saxophone and the grooviest sousaphone player you'll ever see. The perfect addition to the already soulful feel of the music, each was also able to take control for a blistering solo when appropriate. Brass Heaven provided one of the night's highlights when all of The Roots except for ?uestlove left the stage to make way for a New Orleans-style funk exhibition. Each of the horn players got multiple chances to be the center of attention and the ensemble gave their own take on such standards as James Brown's "Funky Drummer."
This variety-show style also was responsible for the only two sections of the show that would have been better left on the tour bus. One episode found bassist Hub alone on the stage, with the spotlight on him, as he ripped through a variety of bass figures. While the speed and precision of his playing was bordering on incredible, the actual sound was more abrasive than amazing. Part of that was due to the sound system being too boomy on the low end, but it was mostly that the demonstration was more about showing off and not about melody or rhythm.
The second slow-down was provided by a side-project formation of ?uestlove, Kirk Douglas and sousaphonist Clarence Thomas. Starting of with a cover of Bob Dylan's famous "Master of War," the trio was temporarily engaging, but lost the Baltimore audience, as their music was more 1969's Woodstock than Dave Chappelle's Block Party. While technically very impressive and clearly emotional, the long, untamed guitar solos managed only to deflate the crowd and lead much of the audience to use their seats for the first time all night.
Luckily for all in attendance, such deviations were a small price to pay for the energetic, awe-inspiring attraction. Obliterating live hip-hop's reputation for being sloppy, the group produced a tight, virtually flawless set with a handful of intricate and perfectly executed medleys thrown in. There was no shortage of classic Roots material as well, as the crowd went wild for such selections as "The Next Movement," "Don't Say Nuthin'," and "Proceed." The Philadelphia natives also managed to incorporate brief snippets of well-known songs ranging from Kool and the Gang's "Jungle Boogie," to Lil Jon's "Snap Yo Fingers," to A Tribe Called Quest's "Award Tour."
The band proved themselves to be at the apex of musicianship as each of them wowed the crowd with their ability to both groove in the pocket and take a hot solo. ?uestlove lived up to his reputation as one of the planet's most creative and exciting drummers, as he was at the peak of his game from start to finish, his giant Afro bobbing from side to side all the while. Similarly, Black Thought captivated the crowd with his accomplished lyrical skills and fiery, confident demeanor.
In the end, The Roots were an experience. It was a precisely calculated yet explosive act that forced any viewer with the slightest bit of soul to be bouncing along the whole time. The production was at its weakest when it took on forms that were un-Roots-like, but aside from those interludes, everyone in attendance was, as Black Thought reminded us so many times, "rockin' with the best."
