The daily digest of Twin Cities culture | Secrets of the City

Concert reviews are problematic. It's like, ‘let me talk about these awesome (or not awesome) bands that were in town last night, which played a kickass (or not kickass) set, and now they're gone.' A concert is an ethereal experience - something that happened once, but is now finished. I might as well review yesterday's weather...for people that spent the whole day in their basements. And unlike a book, an album, or a restaurant critique, there's nothing tangible for a reader to...buy. After a group's left town, it's left town. Not to mention it's so subjective. A music expert might be able to analyze the theoretical and dramatic components of an album, but concerts aren't about the music itself, but rather how it's performed - which is really an impossible thing to judge, for the most part.

That said, the Hip Hop Live tour is awesome and everyone will love it.

Vaguely political ("I'm not going to tell you who to vote for...[cough] Obama [cough cough]"), mostly celebratory, what it boiled down to was three hours of some pretty awesome music. And it was actually music: The Rhythm Roots All Stars - a seven-piece hip-hop band featuring cowbells and steel drums - set up on stage, and backed all the ensuing performers...But not before warming up the crowd with an instrumental rendition of The Incredible Bongo Band's "Apache" (which was originally performed by The Shadows, but is probably most famous for its stint with The Sugarhill Gang).

As DJ'ing becomes more and more computer-based, a live band really helps maintain rap's semblance of musical legitimacy (whatever it's worth), providing a warm, fallible, human aspect. The Roots (separate from the Rhythm Roots) have long been considered the best performers in hip-hop, and there's a reason for it.

To kick off the lyrical side of things, Brother Ali made a surprise appearance. [Cough] "Uncle Sam Goddamn" "Room With a View" [cough cough]. He played. He amped up the crowd. He proved, as usual, that the Minnesota underground is as valid as any state's. Then he made way for the next act, which, physically speaking, were like watching two Brother Alis at once.

Little Brother likes it with chocolate. They also like it with strawberry, they said. And whip cream, and cherry, and butterscotch. I mean this in the best way, but given their somewhat Tweedledee and Tweedledum builds, their dietary preferences were apparent before they rapped about them. For the uninitiated, Little Brother is a duo from North Carolina, but their style is more reminiscent of Chicago MCs - Diverse and Common come to mind - with intricate lyrics layered over minimal, un-intrusive beats.

On stage they hype-man for each other with Lil' Jon-like exclamations - "Yeah!" (made into two syllables: Yee-yuh) "Okay!" (Ok-ay-uh) - except sung as if by the Isley Brothers. In addition to ice cream and ice cream toppings, they also like it take it slow (slow-oh). This was surprising, because their set was anything but slow. Early on they let us know that, "The first rule of a Little Brother show is that it's a party," and commenced to stick their tongues out à la Michael Jordan and teach the crowd how to do the two-step. The most stubborn among us stood still, but for the most part, they got the crowd moving.

In an Adrian Peterson jersey, David Banner rushed onto stage, yelling happily about something, probably women. Pretty quickly, the jersey was off, and a t-shirt with boxing gloves painted graffiti-style was on display. But that only lasted a couple minutes, at which point he stripped down to an undershirt, which he ripped for some passionate reason. He spent an inordinate amount of time praising The Lord between pieces, especially for someone whose hit song goes like:

"Cum girl, I'm tryna get your pussy wet
Work that, lemme see you drip sweat
Gon' play with it
Gon' play with it"

...and then there was the skank dancing on stage whose buttocks hung below her skirt. I think I contracted a venereal disease just from watching her. It was awesome.

Nevertheless, Banner's act was easily the most exciting part of the night, as he made the whole venue into a stage, scaling the speakers and climbing into the balcony and letting everyone come close enough to smell him, if they wanted. His album may not appeal to everyone, but I'm pretty sure even John McCain would've thrown his hands in the air for this guy, and then commenced to wave them as though he just didn't care.

Speaking of McCain...in the middle of his set, Banner dedicated a song to his white fans (sincerely, I'm pretty sure), because, he said, they're the ones who buy the most records. The Rhythm Roots played "Smells Like Teen Spirit," and Banner crowd surfed for a few minutes, all the while yelling "White People!" into his microphone. (See top photo.)

When he got back to the stage, he tore off his undershirt, and eventually got on his knees. "Will you guys let me pray here for a minute?" he asked. The crowd said ‘sure,' in one way or another. The band quieted down, playing the first few bars of his last song. Genuflecting, Banner began his sermonic rap: "Cadillacs on twenty-twos..."

After which it was time for the tour's headliner to come on out. His hat angled low over his face, making it annoyingly hard to get a good picture of him, Talib Kweli proved himself proficient at playing with a live band. In many ways, his set was reminiscent of a show by The Roots - with whom he has a long history - Kweli taking the role of Black Thought. He rapped without emphasizing his rhymes, which is sort of like a driver speeding past stop signs. Instead, entire stanzas - entire songs - came rapidly out from his mouth, and you had to strain if you wanted to appreciate the intricacies that define his style. But this method has its allure, it shows a mastery of his own canon, and also made it possible for him to squeeze a bunch of hits into his set, including "Get By," "Eardrums," "Beautiful Struggle," "The Blast," "This Means You," and Blackstar's "Definition" - which Mos Def also rapped when he was in town for Labor Day. (B.N. - The girl whose ass was falling out of her skirt was asked to leave the stage by one of Kweli's dudes.)

The venue lights went up and then they went down again. Mercifully, we didn't have to wait too long for the encore, which was a freestyle session in the form of old school raps. The Rhythm Roots played through "Rapper's Delight," "Engine Engine Number Nine," and "I Got Five On It." And all the rappers came out to, um, drop hot flows. It was almost an ugly freestyle, nearly devoid of dazzle. It seemed each MC couldn't wait to pass off the microphone. But that's what made it great, too. All night, the rappers set aside the egoism that's come to define their genre. They took chances. Sometimes they messed up. But they made themselves accessible. After their shows, they went to the merch table and hawked their own gear. The ‘live' in Hip Hop Live was suitably emphasized.