My First Hip Hop Show

I thought that I had gotten Jeremy the best Christmas gift. He likes activity gifts as opposed to stuff gifts and he likes the band Sublime. I got him concert tickets to see a Sublime tribute band at the House of Blues. (Sadly, the lead singer of Sublime is dead, so a tribute band is the only way to see them now.)

I was wrong.

Jeremy's mom outdid me. She got him tickets to see Del tha Funkee Homosapien at the Belly Up. Damn.

You've never heard of Del? Of course you haven't. Think back to that old Gorillaz song: "I'm happy, feelin' glad/I got sunshine in a bag/I'm useless but not for long/The future is comin' on." He doesn't sing that part. He's the rapper who sings the rest of the song.

I thought for sure Jeremy would invite one of his guy friends, who would appreciate a hip hop show. But somehow none of them were available and at the last minute, I was in.

We were there when the doors were set to open; the show was general admission and we wanted to get a decent spot, preferably a with a seat. Once inside we watched a couple of dudes prepping for the show.

The first was a young guy, in baggy pants and a bright red oversized shirt. He fiddled around with the equipment and the mics till he was satisfied. The other guy looked like a heavier, younger, blacker version of Mr. Rogers. Buttoned-up green cardigan over tight black jeans. He did his prep and hid again backstage.

Next thing we know, the younger guy comes out on a skateboard. And starts skating around the floor. In front of the stage, there's a big open area which is usually full of fans, but it was still empty. So he used it as his own personal skate park. He even set up a chair to olly over.

Should I have been impressed?

All I kept thinking was: If you're ready to go, why don't you start the show already? Instead of killing time on your skateboard?

FINALLY, the show began. Our young skateboarder was the opening act. He called himself Bukue One. (Pronounced "BooKoo" like a mispronunciation of beaucoup. Wha-huh?)

He did his set and mostly I remember it was really loud. He had his own "DJ" in the back. I put that in quotes because his "DJ" was a nicely dressed young woman, who looked like an employee of the club. But she stood on a raised platform behind him, wearing ginormous headphones, sort of bobbing along to the beat, in front of a table with a bunch of equipment on it.

Now here's the funny part. Despite his "DJ" in the back, Bukue controlled the show from what appeared to be an iPod in his pocket. He would turn the backing tracks on and off. Occasionally, to make her look like she had some purpose, he would tell her "Turn it up" and she would slightly nudge one of the control dials. It was ridiculous.

Ding! Round 2.

Out comes Mr. Rogers. No phony "DJ" for this guy. He's got his own separate equipment off to the side and he does it all himself.

First song: He raps, furiously fast, to Mozart's Rondo alla Turca (listen to a snippet here if you, like me, are not a classical music geek).

It. Was. Glorious.

I looked at Jeremy with my eyes bugging out of my head and yelled, "I think this is my new favorite guy!"

Oh, also? My new favorite guy's name? Busdriver. How rad is that?

So I'm salivating over the Busdriver, and he's the craziest rapper ever. He stands in one spot, and repeatedly bows, bending at the waist and popping back up again, while he's rapping. One hand holding the mic, the other wildly gesticulating to match his feverishly fast rapping.

But every song is the same. Furious, loud, unintelligible rapping. Accompanied by nonstop bowing and gesturing. And poof! The novelty was gone. And so was the incongruous classical music which had made it all so bizarre and fun. Oh well.

Busdriver's finally out. And we're waiting, waiting, waiting for Del.

He finally comes out to start his set at maybe 11:30pm? I was beyond tired at this point and not really able to care much about poor (rich) Del.

I'd heard his music before, of course, but hadn't seen him. I pictured him as tall, lanky, unusual looking, with offbeat clothes.

He looked like a straight-up gangsta. And he was Seacrest-size extra-small.

The thug look was more surprising than his height (or lack of it, badda bing!) because his music is decidedly non-gangsta. But what do I know?

He wore a dark track suit with big ol' tennis shoes. Covered with a hoodie AND a leather jacket. with the requisite baseball cap, pulled low. He had a matching little hype-man who followed him around. And guess who Del's DJ was? Why, none other than Bukue One! Hello again, Mr. Skateboarder.

Del's set was the shortest of the three, which was odd and maybe disappointing to the super fans, but not to me, I was ready for my beddie.

White girl OUT!
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