How do you react when you know that the crowd doesn't want you on stage? If a heckler tells the support act, "You should be headlining this shit", what do you do? It's not an easy situation. The Pharcyde, American hip-hop legends of the 90's, are supporting Rae & Christian tonight, on a topsy-turvy bill that has scant regard for recognition or expectation, and little resonance with the crowd. One crowd member even asks, "Who are this Rae & Christian anyway?"
Rae & Christian are, of course, the Manchester based duo of Mark Rae and Steve Christian, who delivered, approximately eighteen months ago, a British hip-hop album that encouraged the genre to reconsider its boundaries. In a time of pseudo-gangsters, disappointing comebacks and polished video epics, 'Northern Sulphuric Soul' was purely about the sound. An acidic rebuttal to anyone who believed that hip-hop was dead, lacking in innovation and short of innovators.
Thing is though, taking elements of northern soul, reggae, jazz, and even drum and bass, it's often closer, in sound and in spirit, to Marlena Shaw than Public Enemy. Opening tonight in a mellow, largely instrumental style,there's nothing immediately apparent that refutes the allegation. It's certainly mood building though, easing us into a demonstration of stylistic wizardry with some apparently simple atmospherics.
There's an orchestral depth to the sound, a murky tapestry that weaves tighter and tighter as the set progresses, guided by the omnipresence of Mark Rae. Driving the show from every corner of the stage, he's a DJ, an MC, a rapper, and a conductor simultaneously. Amongst a multitude of musicians, his presence holds the collective together, encouraging his many musicians and introducing new members.
With two new vocalists on display tonight, it's a welcome demonstration of stability. New diva Siron has a challenging role, reinterpreting material from the Sulphuric Soul era as much as performing her own. No amount of turntable trickery from Peter Parker on the decks can hide the fact that she just doesn't know the words to 'All I Ask', omitting alternate lines and straining, literally, at all
the wrong moments. 'Distant Invitation', provides some redemption, the perfect forum for Siron's own brand of sultry soul.
Criminal, the second new voice, performs only his material, with a hypnotic rap on both 'Crazy Rhymin' and 'It Ain't Nothing Like Hip-Hop Music' that injects a little ghetto spirit, a rhythmic oration that appeases those fans still mourning the loss of the support act.
'Bacalau' closes the set, a jam session that provides the backing track for both a prolonged farewell, and an apparently impromptu session of freestyling. Anticipating the verbal sparring between himself, Criminal, and the Pharcyde's Supernatural, Mark Rae displays his credentials again, claiming he would have wanted The Pharcyde to headline too. The rap is a superb conclusion, a hip-hop exercise that is both deceptively simple and clinical in execution, provoking levels of excitement not seen since, well, since the opening act.
Rae & Christian fall between musical camps but look for the approval of fans who object to musical impurity. They're producing some of the most inspirational and innovative music in Britain today, but it's not really hip-hop. Hopefully, both they, and the fans, can come to terms with that.
