It’s been an action-packed adventure so far out here in these New York streets, where during my first week I’ve hung out in Queensbridge, drunk Henny White at a BBQ in Prospect Park, live tweeted the Hot 97 Summer Jam where Papoose stole the show, crashed an open bar book launch, attended the taping of the Joey Bada$$ interview for the Combat Jack TV Show and broke bread with the legendary 45 King in East Orange. Most importantly, I finally got to see the one and only Rakim perform at Red Hook park in Brooklyn on a fine summer evening, which was nothing short of face-meltingly incredible.
After meeting-up with Internets Celebrity Dallas Penn, who has also become a certified In Real Life (IRL) celebrity since my last visit (based on the fact that we couldn’t walk more than five feet without somebody recognising him), we hopped a bus to the park and grabbed some wings and fried fish. Being that this was a free Rakim show in Brooklyn, the place was quickly packed-out with an assortment of characters ranging from original Lo-Life members to white Jansport kids to grandmother’s in jean suits, and everything in between. When the DJ shouted out, “Put up your hands if you’re over 30!” I knew we were at an official Old Mouf event.
BK stalwart Pumpkinhead set things off, joined onstage by Poison Pen and C-Rayz Walz, and put in a spirited performance despite losing his voice halfway through. The host of the show then started asking the crowd to let him know which MC would have won in a variety of theoretical face-offs, which was amusing but basically anyone from Brooklyn automatically got the loudest crowd response. Since this was a booze-free event, I took a can of Welch’s grape soda to the dome and caught a contact high off the numerous blunts being smoked around me, which had me amped for the God MC stepping on stage.
To say that Rakim Allah had the crowd in the palm of his hand would be doing him a disservice. Taking to the microphone with the authority of a true master of the game, the R tore through his catalog of classics while his DJ, an excitable dude from the Bronx with a Fatman Scoop-style delivery, kept thing’s rocking. In stark contrast to the shitty rap karaoke of the Summer Jam concert on Sunday, Ra rocked over proper instrumentals and delivered every line with crystal-clear clarity, allowing the amped-up crowd to finish his bars when required. For the first time in years, I actually got goosebumps when beats like Let The Rhythm Hit ‘Em dropped. The energy in the crowd was “turnt-up”, as the young folks say.
As the light faded, the MC who’s “not down with Eric B. no more” suddenly added a little sugar to the Kool-Aid by throwing a series of special guests onto the stage. First up was the Dot Father, Sadat X, who tore through Slow Down and Punks Jump Up To Get Down and had me jumping up and down like a little kid on Christmas. Next up was Styles P, who did We Gonna Make It and then said, “I just did the in and out with the God MC!” to which I screamed out, “Pause!” at the top of my lungs, before Rockness Monster took to the stage to rep the BCC and Young Dirty jumped up to do that weird “impersonation of his dad” thing, which means he can’t cut his hair for the next fifteen years. Rakim wrapped things up shortly afterwards, and there was no doubt that I had just witnessed a Master of Ceremony’s doing what he does best. Rap won in Red Hook that night.
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