KRS-One sonically transported Rescue Rooms to the true Golden Age of hip-hop...
To say that this was a gig flavoured by nostalgic sentiment is an understatement. Not only did I return to my old stomping grounds, Rescue Rooms, but I was sonically transported to the true Golden Age of hip-hop in the presence of one of the genre’s most important pioneers.
The young of all ages must be initiated into the work of KRS-One if they wish to be educated in the ways of rap. To listen to his music is to read from the first chapter of the genre’s history book. We were lucky enough to stand in the shadow of his immense presence.
With thunderous fury, the man whose name stands for Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone stormed the stage against a backdrop of booming kicks and whip-lashing snares. His objective: to prove that he won’t be relegated to the history books just yet.
The advantage of a four-decade-long career is that he’s able to perform a solid set of rapid-fire hits in quick succession; a careering tour de force through Teacha's vast body of work. Although a few new, crisp-sounding tracks were included, KRS made it clear that he felt most at home with the rough, muddy, and heavy sounds of the 80s and 90s.
An era when the genre was still considered ‘underground’, much of the beats reflected a dark and sombre yet somehow playful and rhythmically upbeat atmosphere of the streets of New York. The perfect accompaniment to empowering indignation and vehemence of the disenfranchised youth.
He wouldn’t be staying true to his name’s acronym if he didn’t include some mad flurries of cognitive brilliance and cutting socio-political insights. His blend of esotericism, spirituality, social justice activism and borderline conspiracy theories certainly won him some fans in the Nottingham audience.
At the core of his message: unity, brotherhood, awareness of the media’s corruption of our minds and scepticism towards those who have plans for us. Just when the audience was beginning to feel satiated by the hits, KRS served up several spells of philosophical wisdom with the skill and expertise of a master craftsman.
I found myself laughing out loud, scratching my head, and bouncing my hands up and down almost simultaneously to the beats, the sharpness of thought and the sheer surreal humour of the whole thing.
Just when we thought we couldn’t ask for any more from the performer, a hundred signed tennis balls were launched into the audience. “If you catch one of these, you’re a divine being” was the premise. A gig that had it all.
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