My first rap concert

If you read my last column, you’ll remember that I promised to write about the Lil’ Wayne concert I went to this weekend. I’ll try, but it’s almost impossible to condense three hours of cacophonous rap music, the faint smell of marijuana smoke, and manic, possessed dancing into a TDB column. And now that I’ve said I can’t do such a thing, here goes.
A few weeks ago, a couple friends of mine asked if I wanted to join them to go see Lil’ Wayne — who is, of course, one of the world’s best-selling gangster rappers — in concert at the Greensboro Coliseum. Wayne was slated to appear with Soulja Boy (the kid with the number-one hit in the country that is so bad it makes me want to overdose on something every time I hear it) and Eve (she had a few hits when I was in middle school, and I didn’t know that she still existed), as well as Lil’ Boosie, Lil’ Scrappy, and probably about four or so additional rappers whose names also began with “Lil’.”
Always up for something new and/or weird, I of course accepted the invitation. I told some of my friends from back home that I was going, and they told me that I was, to put it mildly, completely out to lunch. Heck, even my own mother told me that I might get shot. Nevertheless, I persevered in my Lil’ Wayne-based pursuits.
My associates and I arrived at the Coliseum circa 9:00 pm, meaning we missed Lil’ Scrappy and possibly somebody called “J. Holliday,” both of whom sound kind of lame. We did, in fact, make it in time to see the incomparable Soulja Boy.
Hate to break it to you, but he stunk. He sang four songs, two of which were “Crank Dat (Soulja Boy),” his big hit. I honestly don’t remember what else he played, but generally he just danced his little Soulja Boy Dance, and lip-synced along to the backing track.
Wait, wait, wait. Did I just say that Soulja Boy lip-synced? I paid money to see somebody dance and lip-sync to their rap song? The durn point of a rap song is to rhythmically speak to a backing track which isn’t that hard in the first place, and to deprive your audience of that one sentimental piece of musical authenticity just folds the entire system into little tiny pieces and cuts it up like one of those snowflakes that you made in elementary school when your teacher felt like being lazy and didn’t want to do actual work. Lesson is, Soulja Boy makes me want to punch myself in the face repeatedly.
Next came Eve, who was aggressively boring. I didn’t know anything she sang, other than “Let Me Blow Ya Mind,” which was a minor hit when I was in seventh grade. I honestly can’t think of anything else to say about her, other than she had backup dancers who were supposed to detract from the fact that at this point in her life, she is less than skinny.
Finally, after agonizing minutes of anticipation, a fake news story flashed upon the Jumbotron explaining that Lil’ Wayne was incarcerated, but for fear of riots, he would be transported to Greensboro Coliseum for one night only. Then, Weezy F. Baby (as Wayne is sometimes known) was lowered down onto the stage in a cage. You heard me right — a cage. It was, needless to say, one of the most face-blowingly awesome events I have ever witnessed. From then on, he performed some of his greatest hits, such as “Hustler Musik,” “Ride 4 My (this word starts with an N and ends with a lawsuit),” “Stuntin’ Like My Daddy,” and “Leather So Soft,” on which he demonstrated his surprising proficiency on the guitar.
In case you were wondering, my friends and I were some of the only white people there. But you know what? It didn’t matter — everybody there treated us just like they would an old friend, and everybody had a great time.
Quick story regarding after the concert: That night was also the night of UNC’s homecoming concert, where the band Augustana played. Around 1:00 in the morning, my friends and I got back and went to a friend’s suite on the eighth floor of her dorm to hang out. We ended up sitting on the balcony, chatting, when up walked two dudes wearing really, really tight pants. Because I’m an insensitive jerk, I made fun of them. They heard me, and told me to do something that is anatomically impossible. Little did I know, those two guys were in Augustana. Not many people can say that they’ve met a world-famous rock band, but even fewer people can say that they’ve met a world-famous rock band... and made fun of them to their faces.
Jam of the Week: “Good Life” by Kanye West and T-Pain. I’m convinced that anything T-Pain touches turns to gold, and this song is no exception. Lyrically, the song is pretty simple. Basically, Kanye talks about how happy he is now that he has money, and T-Pain thoughtfully concurs. And yet the song is so, so good. Why? Pixie dust and drum machines, man.