Not since Mac Miller performed back in December of 2010 have I seen the Blind Pig so full of life. It helped that it was a sold out show – when you get Talib Kweli at a venue the size of the Pig, holding capacity becomes moot. I thought the place was gonna buckle over its hoofs and plop onto the 8Ball Saloon underneath.
Yeah, last Saturday night may have been the hip-hop highlight of the summer for Ann Arbor. Kweli’s following is both loyal and massive, a rare combo in a crowded genre where those at the very top are liked by many and loved by few, while those with a densely loyal fan base usually take some digging to get to. The crowd proved this: a group as diverse as you’ll see at about any show was holding up their hands and nodding their heads on command, with many nailing the lyrics along with Kweli – I noticed a few people even had entire songs memorized. And the sound system made certain they weren’t heard over Kweli, or this would have been more annoying than impressive.
Getting closer to the front meant risking injury, and this was before Kweli even took the stage. Opener Slum Village’s classic song “Selfish” produced a craze that carried over to Kweli’s set. Bottles were dropped, people were lifted upon shoulders and hands and heads, and small smoke clouds occasionally rose to the ceiling, but this was not an out-of-control scene (unlike, say, an Odd Future show). This could have something to do with the nature of Kweli’s music: often categorized as “socially conscious,” his lyrics bypass common topics in hip-hop for something more poignant and philosophical, yet never lacking in energy and urgency.
Hip-hop is saturated with odes to drugs, sex and violence. Kweli takes these for what they are: elements that play a part in life, but are by no means the whole show. No wonder so many find that his brand of hip-hop hits closer to home.
I couldn’t help thinking, as Kweli hunched over as if trying to get level with the crowd, lightly gripping the tip of his hat and moving his mic-less hand with power and precision, that he had the demeanor of Jay-Z. But both rappers represent Brooklyn in their own distinct way, and, interestingly, Hova has put his respect for Kweli on record (check out “Moment of Clarity” from The Black Album).
Whether you’re a fan of Kweli’s or just a fan of smart hip-hop, you won’t be disappointed by one of his shows. It’s unlikely that he’ll be back in Michigan this summer, but if you’re one of the lucky few with Bonnaroo passes then you’ll be seeing him soon. Look out for his new album, entitled “Prisoner of Consciousness,” due out later this summer.