Farewell Forever Fresh – Canibus Recap

Its been quite a journey for The Greatest Rapper That Never Made it.

The journey continues for Jah C, the mind behind the increasingly popular Forever Fresh concert series.

Canibus came into the game with Nas-like buzz, blitzkrieg-ing mixtapes and battle cyphers in the mid to late nineties like a German offensive — terrorizing would be lyrical foes metaphor after metaphor.  Had his fortunes been different, had he never brazenly blasted LL Cool J on the infamous diss track “Second Round KO” or teamed up with Wyclef to drop one of the most disappointing debut albums in Hip Hop history (Can-I-Bus), perhaps his legacy would be more substantial.  Perhaps we would remember him less for his untapped promise, and more for those 7 other — rather obscure — albums he dropped over the course of the last decade.

Frontman for Underground jam band The Antidote, Jah C has financed, organized, and promoted Forever Fresh, a steadily growing, consistently reliable Brooklyn based Hip Hop concert series.  Since 2008 he’s hosted legends like KRS-ONE, Nice & Smooth, Talib Kweli, Styles P, to popular under the radar rappers like R.A. The Rugged Man, AG & OC, to rising stars such as Homeboy Sandman, Wordspit, YC The Cynic.  Had his fortunes been different, had Forever Fresh been less successful and not opened additional doors to more conflicting responsibilities brand managing events for Red Bull, perhaps he would be able to continue crafting and adding to the Forever Fresh legacy.

This past Monday, Canibus headlined the Forever Fresh Finale, the concert series’ final throw down.

Bronx native YC The Cynic opened the festivities displaying the slick wordplay and I-can’t-believe-he’s-only-nineteen delivery thats now generating a buzz throughout the 5Boroughs.  With only one mixtape to his name, YC dazzled the crowd with quotables like “I’d rather stick six foot daggers in my lips than be average / or un-adequate, / back from the forefront, / or un-accurate more young dumb rap advocates” and “these wack rap cats double my age. / YC’s in the building like government planes.” Its rare to see opening acts with little notoriety earn immediate respect from fickle rap Hip Hop audiences.  YC raised the bar straight out the gate.

Brooklyn Bodega December Show & Prove victors St. Joe Louis followed with ample energy, ripping through their set with dreadlocks swinging, closing out with their raucous anthem “Black Magic.”

Che Grand rocked suitably through his array of mixtape jams.  The undeniable highlight occurred when Brooklynati homies, Von Pea and Don Will of Tanya Morgan joined him for a surprise guest appearance.  During set closer “Live N***** Only”, Che spit his final verse crowd level stating “I don’t even know the rest of this shit. Too much Jameson…” A rather suspect ending to a fairly decent set.

Two-thirds of rap trio Dominion touched down in a major way.  Pack FM and Mr. Mecca picked up the slack for third member, Substantial (who was snowed in in Baltimore), bringing hard beats and menacing rhymes straight to the face, charisma oozing through every lyric.  Each emcee took time out to kick solo tracks, culminating with Pack FM’s jollily edutaining “Happy Days.”

As always, Homeboy Sandman delivered with his performance, running through “Not Pop”, “Fuel”, “Lightning Bolt. Lightning Rod”, “Airwave Air Raid”, and the sublime “Parallel Perpendicular”, catching much love all along the way, garnering the night’s second largest crowd response.

I’ll say this first, Canibus rocked a solid set, hitting the audience with what they paid to hear — “Second Round KO” and “Buckingham Palace” — a hand full of new joints from his recently released LP “Melatonin Magic”, a worthy Big Daddy Kane tribute, and several other tracks that a couple cats seemed to remember.  He looked energized on stage, smiling often, as if he genuinely enjoyed himself.  Occasionally he stumbled through lyrics.  Occasionally he seemed surprised more people didn’t remember more of his other songs from his other albums.  Overall he did what any professional Emcee is supposed to do: rock the mic right.

The real story is the fact that Canibus still brings heads to the venue.  Cats came out to see The Greatest Rapper That Never Made It on a cold Monday night in Brooklyn — some actually wearing Canibus Tees!  The initial impact that this Emcee had over a decade ago is still enough to interest enough people to pay to see him perform today.  That part is refreshingly surprising.

Whats not surprising is the overall quality of Forever Fresh’s final lineup.  From YC to “Can-I”, every performer exhibited a solid range of lyrical skill, showmanship and passion for The Culture.  Thats what will be missed most about this concert series: the diversity and reliability of every bill.

Thats where Jah C deserves credit.

Whether its KRS or Canibus, Styles P or Hezekiah, Nice & Smooth or Eternia — as an Emcee, you had to be dope to grace this stage.

As a fan, it was dope to witness each event.

Farewell Forever Fresh.

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.