Xzibit - The Garage, Glasgow. 19/10/11

For the second time in a fortnight I traveled to Glasgow to experience the unbridled joy that is provided by G2 (Not the main venue, just round the back!) Fortunately, there were no fights outside this time. The entrance, though, was surrounded by a litany of unsavoury characters, someone helpfully shouting "RUFF RYDERS!" at me as I entered. Though it is always nice to see appreciation of DMX, The LOX and the work of Swizz Beatz, we were all here to see Xzibit (perhaps he was a Drag-On fan?). There was a VIP package offering 3 CD's, a t-shirt and 15 minutes backstage with X, but I respectfully declined, preferring to take my chances in the crowd.
After keeping us waiting just a tiny bit too long (after Snoop Dogg arrived an hour late I'm prepared to forgive more minor tardiness), X took to the stage, sparking the set off with new single 'Xzibit v. The State of Hip Hop'. Aided by hype man Young De, the West Coast veteran bounced across the stage, regularly flashing his cheesy grin as the more familiar fare took over the set list. 'Front 2 Back' and 'Get Your Walk On' were highlights of a Restless heavy focus, with 'Alkaholic' predictably sending the crowd into a frenzy. The rapper outlined his credentials, asserting that he could drink more than "any motherfucker in this room!" Any hopes of witnessing him down a pint of Tennent's were swiftly dispelled, but the song was played twice during the performance to a typically rowdy response.
A medley of standout verses from his association with Aftermath Records followed, hits such as 'Bitch Please', 'Bitch Please II' and 'What's the Difference' were merged to give a strong West Coast flavour to the evening. In a similar vein, 'California Vacation' was played to a rousing reception.
The gig took a sombre turn with a tribute to Nate Dogg, followed by a return to first album material with 'Paparazzi'. Though the song matched the tone of the tribute, it seemed strange that he rapper chose not to perform one of the many songs he has recorded with the late soul singer. The set list continued with the theme of 90's hits, 'What You See is What You Get' from 40 Dayz and 40 Nightz being performed with typical enthusiasm. More recent fare was thin on the ground, 'Muthafucker' from Weapons of Mass Destruction and 'Multiply' proving popular, the gig finishing with 'Thank You', a heartfelt tribute to the fans who have supported the rapper through thick and thin. The performance ended abruptly just over the hour mark, with the rapper finishing mid song and walking off the stage. His DJ carried on playing, raising hopes for an encore ('Hey Now' and 'Heart of Man' were sorely missed), but after 5 minutes it became apparent he was not to return. The crowd left puzzled, but generally satisfied by an evening with one of the West Coast's most enduring voices.

Styles P - Master Of Ceremonies

As a member of The LOX, Styles P had already enjoyed much success before the first of his solo albums, 2002's A Gangster and a Gentleman. Two more albums followed in 2006 and 2007 respectively, before the New York MC's output slowed dramatically. Five years after his last LP, Styles has released Master of Ceremonies, a short, guest laden 12 track album.

The project kicks off with 'How I Fly', the hook provided by forgotten singer Avery Storm. The track serves as a laid back introduction, but fails to fit with the rest of the album. Things move into more comfortable territory with the gritty 'We Don't Play', featuring both a chorus and verse from an invigorated Lloyd Banks. P and Banks feel liberated on the track, the burden of big label expectation being removed from their shoulders as they swap aggressive street tales.

'Ryde on the Regular' is one of only two solo offerings on the LP, the other being 'Feelings Gone'. Both tracks are moody, reflective narratives, providing the listener with a disquieting insight into street culture. The theme is continued on 'Keep the Faith', supported by a soulful hook from newcomer Aja.
The abundance of guest appearances suggest that Styles is at his best when he feels challenged. Fellow LOX alumni Sheek Louch and Jadakiss appear on separate tracks 'Street Shit' and 'It's OK' respectively. Sheek is ferocious over the piano driven beat, but the outstanding chemistry is reserved for the latter song. Jada and Styles trade bars in the now familiar fashion over a schizophrenic beat: "Styles: Tryna' renovate the West wing of the mansion/ Jada: I aint thinking recession, I'm thinking expansion/ S: I be in the malls, I aint be in the Hamptons/ J: And I'm playing the wall, but my chain is dancing..."

The highlight of the LP is the Busta Rhymes and Rick Ross assisted 'Harsh'. The star billing lives up to expectation as Busta provides snarling, violent bars, the rapper seemingly enjoying being freed from the shackles of a label.  

Not all tracks are this successful, however.The pairing of Styles and Pharrell seems unnatural on 'Don't Turn Away', while the second Sheek Louch appearance closing out the album on 'Uh-Ohh' seems an unnecessary rehash of the earlier collaboration.


Track by Track:


1. How I Fly (Feat. Avery Storm) 6/10
2. We Don’t Play (Feat. Lloyd Banks) 8/10
3. I’m A Gee (Feat. Rell) 5/10
4. Ryde On Da Regular 7/10
5. Keep The Faith (Feat. Aja) 8/10
6. Children (Feat. Pharoahe Monch) 7/10
7. Street Sh*t (Feat. Sheek Louch) 7/10
8. Feelings Gone 6/10
9. Harsh (Feat. Rick Ross & Busta Rhymes) 8/10
10. It’s OK (Feat. Jadakiss) 8/10
11. Don’t Turn Away (Feat. Pharrell) 5/10
12. Uh-Ohh (Feat. Sheek Louch) 6/10


The Verdict:


Styles P does not stray very far out of his comfort zone on his fourth solo album, but for the most part this does not matter. The vast array of guests often enhances the quality of the work rather than detracting from it, and the chemistry with members of the LOX will surely whet appetites for their rumoured third outing. The Ghost is still on form.


7/10

Skepta - The Garage, Glasgow. 7/10/11

After dodging the burly man fighting a weedy chav (this was Glasgow, after all), we made our way round the back of the Garage to G2, the smaller venue playing host to Skepta on his second U.K tour of the year. Attempts to purchase a Fosters proved unsuccessful, apparently we were meant to ask for a wristband while being charmingly frisked by the door staff.
These minor issues overcome, it was time to watch support act Krept and Konan, buoyed by their recent youtube remix of 'Otis' (5 million hits and counting). Their brief set was enlivened by a competition between two members of the crowd, the principle object being to recite Skepta lyrics in order to win £10. Both contestants were, somewhat predictably, atrocious, and the lesser of the two evils won the day. Krept and Konan, for their part, delivered a nervous, inexperienced performance that betrayed their novice status on the U.K Grime scene.

The preliminary acts over, it was time for the main event. Skepta kept us waiting an impressively short 15 minutes, strutting onto the stage with his ubiquitous mantra of "Fuck Skepta". His band was strikingly attired in crisp white dinner jackets, the Grime legend donning a similar outfit. Bunches of red roses adorned the stage, contributing to the strange dinner party theme. Introductions over, he launched into 'Rescue Me', the anthemic chorus serving as an appropriate opening number. For the next hour the enthusiastic crowd was treated to a myriad of hits spanning his 5 years at the forefront of the British rap scene, including 'Bad Boy', 'All Over the House' (thankfully promising there would be no stage show) and, of course, 'Too Many Man'. Memories were refreshed with a medley of older material, Skepta bouncing irrepressibly across the stage as his energy fed into the crowd. New single 'Hold On' also proved a hit. At the conclusion, the London MC sincerely thanked his audience for their support, before engaging in what can only be described as the least convincing stage walk off I have ever seen. Within 30 seconds he was back for the encore, not being heartless enough to deprive his fans of hit single 'Amnesia'. He did however, neglect to perform 'Rolex Sweep', something the group was all looking forward to having practiced the dance all week.
In summary the gig was short, sweet, and well worth the entry fee. On this evidence there is plenty more life in the Grime stalwart yet, and I'm sure Glasgow will be welcoming back in the near future.

Dropping the N-Bomb

In May 2011, Gwyneth Paltrow appeared on the Graham Norton show. In the midst of the interview, Norton touched on the fact that the actress was a fan of 90's hip hop, which was confirmed by Paltrow herself. Asked to prove it by demonstrating the lyrics, Gwyneth replied: 'There's one word I can't say' to which Graham replied, 'No, don't say that word'. Paltrow then preceded to rap the opening bars to 'Gangsta Gangsta' (not 'Straight Outta Compton' as listed on the video):


'Here's a little somethin' bout a nigga like me
never shoulda been let out the penititary
Ice Cube would like ta say
That I'm a crazy mutha fucka from around the way
Since I was a youth, I smoked weed out...'


The actress skipped over the 'nigga' in the first line, replacing it with a silence and a hand gesture. The point of this blog is to explore whether this was in fact the correct action, the motivations and influences behind her decision, and whether it will ever be acceptable for a white person to use the word 'nigga'.
Since Ice T first used the word nigga in 1991, the word has become prevalent in hip hop. There is a distinction between the older, racist epithet 'nigger', and the rap term 'nigga'. The meaning of the word varies  depending on context, used among other things to denote a friend, an enemy, a brother, a poor man, a black man, someone with undesirable qualities, someone who is 'real' etc. Despite the word being used on a vast number of hip hop songs, a white rapper has never acceptably been able to use the word, and the word has not broken through into acceptable everyday use in society, except selected black communities.
It is not just white MC's who feel they cannot use the word. In 2008, Nas planned to name his new album Nigger. This predictably caused uproar, and the label was eventually forced to censure his project. The album was finally released with no title. It is important to note that the planned title was 'Nigger' and not 'Nigga'. Albums such as 2Pac's Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z have been released without too much controversy, suggesting that the distinction between the racist and hip hop terms is still important. Nas suggested that his title was an attempt to reclaim the word: 


“We’re taking power from the word. You see how white boys ain’t mad at ‘cracker’ cause it don’t have the same sting as ‘nigger?’ I want ‘nigger’ to have less meaning than ‘cracker.”


This begs the question: If there is a clear distinction between 'Nigger' and 'Nigga', why can't a white person feel comfortable using the hip hop term in the appropriate context. Gwyneth Paltrow chose to not risk offending people by leaving out the word, but there is no reason why she should have done so. The word is clearly in the lyrics, and she was asked to recite them. Would Ice Cube have left out the word if he was asked to perform 'Gangsta Gangsta'? Why would it be acceptable for him to say it and not Paltrow?
As mentioned in an earlier post, Kreayshawn and her White Girl Mob have used the word in their songs, to uproar in  the hip hop world. Mistah F.A.B has come out in support, railing against the hypocritical double standards of some in the hip hop community: 


"We grew up in the same communities, same neighborhoods. It's not the same as how people once looked at it. You want to stand up for a cause like that? You'll let somebody from your own race disrespect you all day, then soon as someone from outside your race...you want to turn into Malcolm X or Martin Luther King?"


I agree with him in this respect. You cannot use the word 'nigga' in everyday conversation, then react in horror when someone of a different race chooses to use the same word. There is no such thing as ownership of a word. Unfortunately, F.A.B then ruins his argument:


"Believe it or not, V-Nasty is mobbing harder than you niggas that's mad at her saying the word 'nigga.' V-Nasty is really mobbing. That's like little sis. She just got out of jail for a robbery, dog. That's public information, dog. She's not playing, dog. That's really what she do." 

The implication is that V Nasty, a white rapper, is allowed to use the word because she has 'street credibility'. This is wrong, and is further propagating the idea that the word is owned by some and denied to others. Does this mean that only those who have done a drive by in Compton are allowed to use 'nigga'?
What F.A.B is missing is the importance of context. Within the confines of a hip hop song the word is perfectly acceptable, similarly the recital of said song gives people of any race license to use the word. Everyday use is different. Either everybody is 'allowed' to use it, or no one is. This does not mean I am advocating that white people the world over decide to start screaming 'WHAT UP NIGGA?' in greeting to their friends, rather quite the opposite. If certain members of the black community think that it is fine for them to use the word but entirely unacceptable for a white person, then this is a backward double standard. If the sensitive status of the word is to be protected, it should only be used in clear and appropriate context i.e. when discussing/reciting/rapping along to hip hop music. If a white rapper is bold enough to use the word in their songs, with clear justification behind it, I also think this should be celebrated rather than provoking horror.

Yelawolf disagrees, suggesting that white people do not use 'nigga' in respect of black and hip hop culture. Though I agree that 'white boys' should not be using the term lightly, it is not entirely clear that the culture of hip hop has full respect for white culture. The word 'cracker' is abound in many rap songs, as well as many other derogatory terms for white people. Though the word are nowhere near as offensive or as culturally sensitive as 'nigger', respect works both ways. In addition, melanin challenged rappers such as Pitbull and Fat Joe are allowed to use 'nigga' freely without censure, as are all Latino rappers. 


In conclusion, then, I feel that Gwyneth Paltrow should have felt no compunction in using the word 'nigga' in the clear and appropriate context she found herself in. Furthermore, black/hip hop communities that find it permissible to sprinkle the word in everyday conversation, then claim 'ownership' when outsiders try to use it are being incredibly hypocritical. Either we all have access to the word or, as I would suggest, it should only be used within the boundaries of hip hop music.