It’s been a long week.  And I hear it’s only Tuesday.
Anyway, been long because yesterday was one of those days that started at 7 and was full of driving from here to there and calling people for a piece running Wednesday and all that fun stuff.  Just exhausting stuff, the sort of exhaustion where your phone falls out your pocket in your car and you’re too crazy tired to be able to reach around the car to find it until like 2 in the morning, when you get done working and realize that you’ve got a flashlight that’ll come in awfully handy in the phone hunt.
And today ain’t start out much better.
But, I did get to see Lupe Fiasco at Carolina last night.  I admit that I’ve not gotten around to giving either of his albums a real thorough listen, but it was a $10 show.  My girlfriend was wonderful enough to run to the box office for me and my boy, so it was a go.  Anyway, the show was expected to be a “get acquainted” session for me.   figured it was buddy’s first tour, so he wouldn’t really have much presence to him.  Uneven show I expected.
Well, that proves why nobody asks me to pick their lottery numbers.  That li’l dude–and I mean fit-in-your-coin-pocket little–absolutely ripped it.  I had no clue that his stage presence would be so serious, that his energy would be so high to start…shit, just any of it.  The dude put on a show.  Once he learns to spit from his diaphragm instead of his throat–he said he’s gotta have throat surgery, and it was easy to understand why–he’ll be nothing short of incredible.
Dude can rhyme like nobody’s business.  The songs all hit hard, and whoever did his mix for him deserves a medal.  Easily some of the best sound I’ve ever heard at a rap show.  Seriously, he’s got that elusive it.
But here was the rookie mistake–instead of going straight from song to song, he felt the need to talk to us every five minutes.  Not cool, dude.  I’d bee up since 7am and hadn’t eaten but a lil bit, that lil bit only having come around noon, and this was an 8pm show.  Man, I ain’t wanna hear none of that jibber jabber.  Play a banger, rip it, let the DJ scratch, then go right into the bass drop of another song.  Gotta keep the momentum rolling.
Perhaps he needed to give his voice a breather, but there’s gotta be a better way.
But lemme tell you the killer part…dude may not have sold no records, but everyone that bought his record must have been in the house last night.  Man, you would have thought he was KRS-ONE the way people were reciting every word he spit.  In the palm of his hand they were, and that was before he even said a word.
So yeah, props to Lupe.  If he’s in your town, get a ticket.   Dead serious.
(Thanks again, boss.)