Suffice to say some aspects of this gig have fuzzed in my aging memory banks.
Suffice to say some aspects of this gig have fuzzed in my aging memory banks.
Ten years ago Mr Calvin Broadus of Long Beach California, already a felon from a previous drug bust, was facing two counts of murder and potentially life in the pound. Simultaneously his musical alter ego Snoop Dogg was the hottest ascending Hip Hop star on the planet. Initially his contribution to Dre’s classic 1992 The Chronic album and then his own record breaking 1993 debut, the epic Doggy Style, took the West Coast Hip Hop scene global. Snoop’s witty murderous rhyming, backed by the platinum funk of genius producer Dr. Dre and Tha’ Dogg Pound and various friends, coupled with his wonderful exploitation of his unashamed lifestyle and his world on video suddenly made the whole gangsta rap scene seem less serious, less dangerous and well… in general much more fun. I wanted to be that skinny, rich, gangster cruising down the strip in my ’78 Coupe De Ville, surrounded by near naked hos, toking on some Indo, sipping on gin and juice in the California sunshine! Laid back! Doggy Style was the first Hip Hop album I truly fell in love with. It’s original, it’s wicked, it’s challenging and it’s rebellious. Shit man, it’s Rock n’ Roll!
Indeed Doggy Style would have to go down as one of my favourite records of all time and a certain ‘Desert Island Disc.’ That verse in Lodi Dodi about crack addict Sally from The Valley" and her old crack addict mum ("bitch been around before my mother’s born") that culminates with "…and with your wrinkled pussy I can’t be your lover" is pure genius. The song employs incredible use of language, tells an entertaining, hilariously vulgar yarn and never fails to make me smile. Since those early days he went on to beat the murder case (ahem) ‘that they gave him’ and rise to legendary status as a musician, big screen actor, TV Show host and acclaimed Adult Film producer! Snoop is a man who has been there and done it. In his own way Snoop Doggy Dogg has succeeded in not only living the American Dream but also irrevocably altering the American Dream!
S-N-O-O-P D-O-double G is the top dog of them all.
Oh dear me. Flip, drat and goodness gracious.
I’m only a couple of paragraphs in and I’m approaching sychophantic dribble already.
I better explain this uncharacteristic lapse.
On this particular evening’s jape I was accompanied by a couple of G’s (all blinged up, as you do) from the hood and my best ho (all blinged up, as you do) and, as we all reckoned Calvin was the sort who ‘likes to party’ and ‘create a cosy condition,’ I decided to leave the ‘Coupe de Ville’ back at the crib and get down with ma’ homies on public transport. We obviously took precautions to ensure we would be well in the groove come show time. We managed to get the Indo in, forgot the Gin and juice however, having to soldier on with Heineken and although we eventually decided against smoking the crack we still somehow managed to get ourselves into such a heightened state of cosiness that, by Snoop’s opening number, my notebook was swiftly relegated to my ho’s handbag and I concentrated on the truly pressing matter at hand, waving my muthafucking hands about in the air like I just didn’t care. (From the smell in the bogs I assume the crack smoking fraternity were well represented in da’ house anyhow!)
Suffice to say some aspects of this gig have fuzzed in my aging memory banks. Like the setlist and any idea who was present on stage with him. (Warren G, Nate Dogg, The Lady of Rage, even Andre Young himself could have made surprise appearances and I would have been oblivious to it all!) So I better stop padding this piece out and get on with it.
As we entered, a support act were making a racket on stage. I absentmindedly had a quick look at their efforts. A butch of young Dutch rappers (baseball caps to a man) were capering around the stage. I had no idea who they were. Knowing they were not Brainpower (the advertised support) and frankly thinking they sounded……. how can I put this aptly and succinctly?…….pish!, I dispatched my best G to the bar and went to find a quiet spot, preferably out of earshot, for a needed chronic break.
Just as my break was being rudely interrupted by some camera packing ho from Orange (tonight’s corporate sponsor) wanting to take my picture I heard "Watskebeurt?!" being cranked up. That meant I was listening to De Jeugd Van Tegenwoordig, who happened to be the No.1 act in The Netherlands’ Hit Parade that week. Their vague mishmash of Hip Hop styles is so blatantly plagiarised, everything from Eric B, thru’ The Beastie Boys to Eminem and they duly sounded awkward and soulless, lacking identity. Deservedly, they got booed and whistled off stage. National Chart toppers or not they were, as I had first thought…..pish!
Brainpower was a different proposition entirely. The Belgian MC (now residing in Holland) had also topped the Dutch chart in the past (2002’s Dansplaat) but that small set back did not stop him not only becoming the top Dutch language hip hop star, but also making credible moves across Europe, to England and to North America and the Caribbean. Any minuscule traces of the amateurish D.J.V.T. were speedily blown away as Brainpower’s fresh modern Hip Hop beats took the stage. Brainpower’s 40 minute set had a buoyant infectious flow, whether he chose to be loose, funky and funny; sober, melodious and intense; or tight, hard and rebel rousing, he performed as an artist gleefully delighting in his own talents and in his own work. The mainly old school influences are there for all to see but the vibe is all Brainpower. In all honesty I was largely unfamiliar with Alphen a/d Rijn’s most famous adopted son and his music but tonight I bopped along, effortlessly enjoying the set throughout and even managed to get a couple of loud chant along "kom op’s" in when asked during Pomp ‘t Harder! It cannot be easy to rap and rhyme in Dutch. Whether you can understand this geezer’s patter or not he is evidently a very talented MC.
It has just occurred to me I should use the opposite of the highly descriptive adjective ‘pish’ to describe Brainpower as a nice, well balanced contrast to the D.J.V.T. bit. So for balance sake (not to mention the extra padding value) I will, here and now, create a new pairing of opposite’s in Her Majesty’s English and somewhat clumsily sum my opinion of Brainpower’s musical prowess and tonight’s show as shit hot!
As the dimming of the house lights was greeted with a louder, more frantic than normal cheer it was small wonder the soft porn short film that flickered into life on the big screens was met with near unbridled joy! As a couple of frisky young bisexual women cavorted above the stage, Snoop was sneaking onstage amidst a cloud of dry ice and smoke. Suddenly he was there, illuminated in the spotlight as Doggy Dogg World sent the house into frenzied delirium.
It was 3 songs in before I managed to get a good look at Snoop through the forest of raised arms and sweaty bouncing heads. In fact at the outset the most prominent figures on stage (apart from Snoop) were the two gargantuan bodyguards who took up positions at either side of their protective. It occurred to me then that there was always the chance of some sort of violence at this gig, Rotterdam being a tough town, the clientele tonight having a fair smattering of G’s and considering the near riot there had been in Seattle only 2 weeks earlier! Time for a blunt! Shortly after he knocked out 50 Cents, "In Da Club" any further thoughts of getting beaten up evaporated. Furthermore that’s your lot as far as this evening’s running order goes. I can assure you however that all the more recent (post Doggy Style) hit singles (Xxplosive, Beautiful, Signs, Drop It Like Its Hot) followed and as we boogied along en masse my already broad smile went ear to ear as he interspersed this newer material with just about all of Doggy Style.
If reviewing live music is about describing how the music makes you feel at that time, how it messes with your consciousness, how it affects the people your are with and the space you’re in, then I’m sadly destined to fail here. Using body waste material slang as adjective won’t help me now!
Gin and Juice and Who Am I (What’s My Name)? were truly wonderful. Fantastic bombastic singalongs, but it was the groovy, gritty numbers like "Serial Killa", Murder Was The Case and of course Lodi Dodi with the fast, tongue twisting rhymes that really floated my boat. Snoop Dogg exudes charisma from every pore. He is not a big man, tall, skinny and long limbed, with a long face. He was backed by his weighty crew on the decks, instruments and mic’s and was often engulfed by numerous gyrating big booty dancers, yet he seemed to be 10 foot tall amid the onstage throng, smoke and lights. What stuck out was the voice. Most (gangsta) rappers prefer a very hard edged, in your face style to back up the hard edged, in your face, often violent and shocking lyrics. Snoop can bark when necessary but he has an almost croon like, textured quality in his voice that means his sound is less harsh, subtle even, but yet strangely menacing and mesmerising. He seemed in a wickedly mischievous mood. The atmosphere in the house remained loose, never threatening and you could indeed ‘smoke an ounce to this!’ His use of all the recorded intro’s from Doggy Style meant he keep his spoken word input to a minimum but also noticeably kept the flow laid back, steamy and ‘all the while, (inimitably) Doggy Style’. Seeing (on the big screen with excellent use of unnecessary but well placed T&A!) and hearing ‘DJ Salt-tee Nuts’ doing the "WBALLS, 187.4 on your FM dial……. if you’re lickin’ that’s WBALLS!" intro to Tha Shiznit blasting out on The Ahoy’s big sound rig had us all rolling in the isles even before he started ‘rocking the mic right.’ The biggest giggle of all was undoubtedly the bold and bawdy Ain’t No Fun (If the Homies Can’t Have None), again accompanied with ‘a slap across your fat ass with a fat dick’ courtesy of DJ Eazy-ee Dick! Hearing a couple of thousand men and women singing along at the tops of their voices to, "Guess who’s back in the muthafuckin’ house with a fat dick for your muthafuckin’ mouth" was a truly moving experience! 2005’s version of Tha’ Dogg Pound/The Snoopadelics kept us moving all the way through to Gz and Hustlas and Pump Pump their beats punchy, their riffs melodic and Snoop’s vocal brassy and intense.
You know what? I’m two and a half A4’s in, six weeks late with this and I reckon this is as much padding as any man can produce without reverting back to sychophantic dribble and totally losing self respect!
Fuck it, who needs self respect? He is the Dogg with the biggest nuts of all. We all know his name. He talks the talk and walks the walk. He would scratch you from his all encompassing big doggy balls with his big muthafucking paws in a heartbeat if you dared not to bow down to The Bow Bow. Emm……..BIATCH!
Words: Bill McMullan.