Bostonist Concert Review: Breed Love Odyssey Tour

There was something a little bit incongruous about a heavily hyped, corporate-sponsored show featuring the current heroes of non-bling hip hop: There was a picture of a Playstation Portable with Talib Kweli and Mos Def's faces on its screen projected above the stage, and Bostonist kept wanting to look for the Real World cast and camera crew. In keeping with this vibe, the show was emceed by Amir Sulaiman, a super-intense, slightly-too-earnestly-political-but-still-appealing veteran of HBO's Def Poetry Jam, with a voice that sounding disconcertingly like KRS-One. He said some poems that were interesting, especially because he seemed almost on the verge of tears by the time he finished each one. That made Bostonist get a little choked up (we're like that), which was OK. We might not buy his album, but it didn't feel like wasted time.

The first act, unbilled, was K'Naan ("kay-non"), a rapper-singer backed by two big-ass African drums, a folky-sounding guitar, and a guy with a laptop. Bostonist isn't sure quite how to feel about K'Naan. To begin with, rappers with apostrophes in their names make us wary. Also, K'Naan's shtick, aside from having a weird accent when speaking but sounding exactly like Q Tip when rapping, was that he was from Somalia, and life there is way way worse than anything you can imagine ("If I was to rhyme about home and get descriptive/ I would make 50 Cent sound like Limp Bizkit"). Bostonist has no problem with that, but somehow the whole thing felt a little too made-for-TV (front man with compelling personal story, multiethnic band, relentlessly upbeat message, guitar and hand drums to appeal to the Burlington drum circle crowd). On the other hand, the pared down, drumming + rapping thing was cool (although the addition of the guitar couldn't help but remind us of Rusted Root). Not an album we'll buy, but one you might like.

Next came Jean Grae, one of Bostonist's favorite MCs. She came out and harangued the audience good-naturedly to get more live, chatted with some South Africans in the crowd (she was born there), and then got into some rhyming. Why does Bostonist like Jean Grae (aside from the fact that she reminds us of the kind of girls we used to go for when we were in college)? Her lyricism is ferocious, funny, and well-delivered, she makes and/or chooses interesting beats, and she doesn't do the silly, tired, sex-sells thing that so many female MCs feel obliged to rely on. Also, as is frequently the case with hip hop acts on the undercard at a show, she made sure to keep the levels so you could actually hear her rhymes, instead of just cranking the bass up to the point of making songs barely recognizable and relying on the audience to know the lyrics (see Talib Kweli, below). That's fine for rappers who specialize in well-produced party anthems that rhyme the same word over and over, but annoying when the words are the selling point.

In keeping with this lyrics-first tradition was Pharoahe Monch, who is possibly one of the livest MCs out there right now. Bostonist likes Pharoahe because he's jolly on stage, ever smiling and joking and looking utterly unpretentious (he rocked a Snoopy t-shirt), but has the craziest flow ever. His rhymes are complex, his similes are funny and surprising, and his voice is nervous and ominous in just the right way. Also, his songs tend to have just the right measure of get-the-party-started bump (think "Simon Says"). We need to cut ourselves off before we wax too poetic about Pharoahe. You should buy everything he has ever recorded right away and make plans to go to his next show near you.

Next came Talib Kweli, and if it wasn't clear to Bostonist when an 18-year-old girl asked us who Pharoahe Monch was that Kweli was a bigger draw, it became clear when he took the stage. The dance floor (or head-nod floor, in this case) in front of the stage at the Roxy became impossibly crowded, many hoots and screams filled the air, and the general level of crowd excitement increased markedly. Kweli did not disappoint, giving the people what they want with "Beautiful Struggle," "Just To Get By," and "Guerilla Monsoon Rap" (with Pharoahe, of course). Much happy lyp-synching took place in the crowd, but Bostonist was, as indicated earlier, underwhelmed. The first time we saw Kweli, he was rapping over sparse beats in his trademark style, usually measured but periodically Bone-Thugs-fast in order to fit more words into stanza, challenging the crowd to name a topic he couldn't freestyle on. This time around, there was a lot more "get 'em in the air" chanting, exaggerated over-the-head hand clapping, and hoarse screaming into the mic (he really did sound like DMX at one point). We like Kweli, and we think what Bostonist Alexandra told us today is true: TK will "come back around . . .; the guys with talent always do." Also, in fairness, he gave his DJ, Chaps, a healthy bit of time to show off his scratching and beat-juggling skills, and a show is always better with some flashy beat-juggling. Nevertheless, his segment wasn't the highlight of the show for us.

. . . except when Mos Def came on the stage for some happy Blackstar flashback moments. Because really, Mos Def is great, and Talib Kweli is great, but Mos Def + Talib Kweli is way more than twice as awesome as either one. These two MCs have tremendous on-stage chemistry, they are (as Mos interrupted a song to explain in some detail) actually good friends, and it's delightful to watch them get into classic cuts from their album together, like "Astronomy (8th Light)" and "Definition." They also traded wild, wordy, a capella freestyles for a while, which was hot. After that, Mos's set had basically three elements: Improvised singing with lots of reverb over good beats; performing well known tracks from "Black on Both Sides" to great crowd applause; and talking to the audience in a weird, guru-like way, chuckling unexpectedly and grinning bashfully. All of this was good. Mos got playful with his hits, letting the songs he'd sampled to make the hooks play for a few minutes before bringing in the beat at the right moment (sort of like the beginning of "Woo Hah!! Got You All in Check" from Busta Rhymes's "The Coming"), and stopping a song at the point where the lyrics refer to another song, and singing the other song (as in "Ms. Fat Booty," where he briefly quotes "If I Don't Have You" by Gregory Isaacs), which didn't get the crowd jumpin' but did amuse Bostonist. He also sang fairly well, including a surprisingly good song about the flooding in New Orleans (which echoed Kanye West's sentiments on George Bush's feelings about black people, but more eloquently). His chatter between songs also proved that he is slowly changing from a rapper/actor to a charismatic political guru: At one point, he said he wanted to take time out to look at the crowd and just talk to them, because otherwise it would be like "sex with no kissing and no eye contact." He then started talking to audience like a careful, tentative lover: "Is that alright? Am I on your hair? Sorry." Yeah, it was weird, but somehow charming. He also led a lusty "Fuck Bush" chant and periodically declared "Breeeeeeed love!" with a great exhale, as though saying the name of the tour were very cathartic indeed. The show started to peter out around 12:30, as Mos did more and more wild, spaced out reverb singing while assorted DJs, MCs, and others attached to the tour danced and ambled across the stage. Being old a '70s baby, Bostonist took our leave then, just in time to see a crazy-looking bouncer beat up a very drunk patron.