Perhaps the most telling moment of The Roots concert this Saturday took place three-quarters of the way through their set. Having led the less-than-packed house through a number of their frenetic rap-rock numbers, they launched into an extended jam, which segued into the chords from Deep Purple's "Smoke On The Water." Suddenly people were cheering louder than they had all night, or at least more of them were. Audience members started head-banging, some were even moshing. Others stopped and, I am sure, blinked. The riff became a medley leading into "Smells Like Teen Spirit," moved through a couple other familiar rock staples and culminated in a rendition of "Welcome To The Jungle." By this time the audience was almost in a frenzy. Two or three people were crowd surfing, and one was dropped.
If the idea of the lead singer of The Roots wailing "kn-kn-kn-knees" in his best Axl Rose voice seems incongruous, well, it was. And yet people screamed, begging for more. Whatever else you might say about them, The Roots are born showmen.
That much was evident from the start. Taking to a darkened stage amid loud cheers, they instantly leaped into rapid-fire song, instruments amped like guns, and played in darkness for almost 10 minutes. Then, choreographed perfectly to a particularly violent crescendo of music, lights exploded around them, swirling color and smoke. As the band moved effortlessly from one number to another, the lights kept up with them. Sometimes there was the blue monochrome, and other times a moving rainbow. Each band member had his own particular hue, it seemed. Sometimes they were only backlit, performing in silhouette. Sometimes a spotlight was turned on to one person at a time, moving across the stage as the music shifted. At other times, the strobe lights were turned on the audience. Five times, actually.
Never mind that an indifferent audio system garbled much of the hard, biting lyrics. It was about performance more than the music, and The Roots seemed to revel in some of the most overblown antics to make that point. Take for example, their numerous entrances and exits. They would finish a song, then walk off. People yelled and cheered. Suddenly the bass line would start up, more cheers. A spotlight would focus on one member, then another as he walked onstage. Then another. A great, time-honored trick, to be sure. But then it happened again, and again, with only slight variation.
There is something to be said about a show in which the encore is the same length as the primary performance. Or perhaps it wasn't an encore, simply part of the show. Still, it begs the question of how The Roots presented themselves as rock stars, spotlit, highlighted, gradual swelling of music married to every movement and bombastic appearance. One almost expected a John Woo-style slow-motion visual accompaniment.
Which is not to deride the music. The Roots are possible one of the best mainstream hip-hop/rap acts out there today. And unlike most rap performers live, The Roots can carry all their energy and passion into a live performance - just check out The Roots Come Alive. Their edgy lyrics and experiments with fusion put most other "rap-rock" groups to shame. But more shameful is the lack of their characteristic album style in their show Saturday.
When they belted out their signature songs, as well as a couple of smaller tunes, and half the audience screamed the lyrics right back at them, it was glorious. When they led the crowd in concert-staple-but-pleasing repetition exercises, it was a whole lot of fun. When they covered De La, it was a winking tribute. But too often they lost themselves in languorous and self-indulgent solos. One by one, each band member got his moment on stage, completely alone, to noodle away until joined or replaced by another. As a friend remarked later, they're the Grateful Dead of rap.
And so it went. They sang, they went off, they came back, they went on, there were solos. Nobody seemed to mind too much, and why should they? There was a rock show, complete with two or more encores. The solos may have grated a bit, but not as much as listening to them pound out Guns 'N' Roses. The inclusion of familiar tunes into their riffs seemed less sly sampling and more designed, like the smoke and lights, to highlight a general stars-onstage image. At one point, I thought they were going to start on the theme from Beverly Hills Cop.
I know what some people will say, that they were completely aware of what they were doing. The Roots played a particular way and to achieve a particular effect because they knew their audience and knew what would please them. Certainly, at one point of time, as the lights flashed on and off while they re-arranged themselves in rock-star poses Creed would give their eyeteeth for, it seemed that way for sure. And then you could say that the real problem is the audience who didn't see through the irony, and cheered them on.
Well, maybe that's true. But hardly makes it more satisfying. I had the same doubts myself. Surely they're making fun of us, surely they don't really play Nirvana. But my friend, John, said it best when he asked me which was worse - a talented band that plays it "straight" in order to boost their popular image, or one that spends an entire show, one that people were excited about attending, giving a giant middle-finger up to their audience?
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