Review of Tanya Morgan/Torae & Marco Polo Show at Southpaw

Last Wednesday night, Southpaw, Park Slope’s most eminent underground venue, hosted a plethora of up-and-comers—Che Grand, Brown Bag All Stars, Torae and Marco Polo, and Tanya Morgan. It was a lineup that seemed to satisfy most demographics, from the blog fiends to the Bodega fam. The atmosphere in the spot was one of humility and appreciation—everyone seemed happy just to rock, enthusiastic and grateful for the exposure, despite the small crowd consisting mostly of a few dedicated heads. Che Grand, a NMC endorsed mixtape-rapper and Tanya Morgan affiliate, opened the show with a banger. His highly conventional “swagger” and style, strictly and unimaginatively in line with every current trend, elicited a few raised eyebrows as he took the stage. Although I was skeptical at the outset, I was soon won over by Grand’s capable lyricism and proficient flow—I caught a reference to Masta Ace’s “Sittin on Chrome,” which sealed it. But after nodding my head to the first few tracks, I became conscious not only of the similarity of each song, but of their declining quality as well. The absence of any memorable, unique hooks didn’t help. After his swag ran out of steam, it became clear that Grand didn’t have much past that to hold interest. Although his MC skills were completely competent, the generic sense of banality was kind of overwhelming. The next openers, The Bodega-approved Brown Bag All Stars, were a nice contrast to Che. Despite their questionable rap monikers, I could tell that they would rip it. Fresh off their opening spot at the BHF ‘09, they were hype and on the come-up. Their stellar 90s-style production banged, complete dusty drums, jazz-infused bass lines, and a profusion of soulful samples. Their vicious flow and deft lyricism was rapid fire—their lyrics were not always completely audible but their energy was tangible. They had that large-crew steelo which is so noticeably absent in today’s rap culture, the type that reminds you of an impromptu freestyle cypher on a Brooklyn street corner. Although this dynamic occasionally verged on chaotic and uncontrolled, their energy and authenticity was refreshing in our swag-saturated era. Next came Torae and Marco Polo, the indie dream team taking the stage to promote their critically acclaimed new album “Double Barrel.” Their comically disparate appearances struck an unlikely contrast, but Marco’s hard-hitting boom-bap suits Torae’s thunderous delivery and powerfully articulated flow perfectly. The Brooklyn bulldog definitely held it down, despite rocking the stage completely for dolo. Although he could have worked more on commanding the stage through bodily movement rather than simply physical size and presence alone, his authoritative charisma definitely took focus. The highlight of the set came as the legendary Craig G took the stage to trade freestyle bars with Torae. Surprisingly, Torae held his own with hip-hop royalty, grateful to be onstage with a legend, but not too humble as to give up the stage completely. Finally, Marco murdered the MPCs on that freestyle tip, dazzling the crowd with a stunning display of musical improvisation. Despite the shortcomings of both the crowd and the performers, the set was definitely enjoyable. Finally we come to Tanya Morgan, the indie darlings on their quest for mainstream recognition at their first major headline show in New York. But let me be real…A Tanya Morgan show is kind of like having to spend the day with your pops: never particularly enticing, maybe not your first choice, but by the end of the day you end up appreciating the person you’re chilling (or rocking) with. Yeah, maybe it lacks some of the excitement of a wild house party with your friends. Maybe some of his jokes (or songs) start to sound alike, replete with somewhat obvious puns that cause you to chuckle out of politeness as he laughs gleefully. But then you realize, as you see the oversized grin on his face, that you can’t help but have fun too. That is truly Tanya Morgan’s saving grace. Despite the shortcomings of their live show, you can always tell that they enjoy rocking it. But after seeing them for the fourth time, performing the same set with very little spontaneity or stage etiquette, I realized something. These dudes are talented—lyrically they bring it hard and have a lot of respect for the classics. Their ethereal, synth-infused boom-bap is laden with soul and jazz samples, hard drums, and 90 bpm bangers. But whenever I see them perform, I have the same nagging feeling that something is missing. I could blame it on the similarity of most of their songs, their lack of compelling hooks, their inability to properly hype their album, or their need for a clear leader and frontman. But I think their problem is bigger than that. They have a fundamental inability to cross over, in several ways. They struggle with that jump from virtual reality to physical reality, from the studio to the stage, from openers to headliners. Until they figure out this dilemma, a dilemma that combines marketing, image, and ability, they run the risk of being stuck in this state of limbo. The Internet can trick you into thinking you are a lot bigger than you actually are. But when you come home to Brooklyn, fresh off of a new album, and all you get is a half-filled room with some half-hearted fans, the reality sets in.